Chapter 15
Taylor
We were nestled into the cozy twin bed, surrounded by warm blankets and the soft glow of the TV screen. Michael Keaton had made himself comfortable at our feet, mostly asleep but opening an eye when the action scenes ramped up.
“Batman or Catwoman?” I fixed Wyatt with a cocky grin.
She chuckled softly, her eyes never leaving the screen. “Well, considering my choice of dog names, I’m sure you could guess my answer. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think Catwoman does more than hold her own in this one.”
“Hold her own?” I repeated incredulously. “Are we watching the same movie? Selina Kyle and that whip…”
This got Wyatt’s attention, and she turned her head to look me dead in the eye. “Selina Kyle is a crazy person who needs psychiatric help. Catwoman has the whip.”
“Sorry, my mistake.” I held up my hands in surrender. “But you know what I mean. I think that whip alone is enough to give her an edge over the masked crusader.”
“Caped.” She turned the volume up another notch, and I stifled a laugh. “He’s the Caped Crusader, not masked.”
I knew that I was pissing her off with my talking, but we’d both seen this movie before—Wyatt, probably a hundred times—so I wasn’t too bothered about catching every second of it.
“Cape, mask. What’s the difference if he has them both?” I shrugged, giving a bored sigh as I turned back to the TV.
I felt Wyatt’s insulted gaze burning into the side of my face, but did a great job of acting like I was totally unaware of it.
She gaped at me that way for a few seconds, likely wrestling with whether she should waste more movie time by getting into this new debate or not.
Finally, Wyatt chose to overlook it, and carried on watching.
Or so I thought.
Because just when I was getting pulled into another scene with the Penguin, she said, her tone as flat as anything, “It’s the cape because that’s what makes him a hero. The mask is… something else.”
I didn’t miss the way she trailed off at the end, or that her voice did a funny thing that wasn’t exactly a sign of everything being fine in Wyattland. But on the whole it was dismissive, so I let it be.
For a little while, anyway.
Bruce and Selina were on another rooftop, and I playfully nudged Wyatt with my elbow. “I think I can see a little Catwoman in you.”
“You think I’m unhinged?” The side-eye she gave me was cool as steel. It showed me a glimpse of what those pools of green could do if I ever got on her bad side.
For whatever reason, this little nugget utterly exhilarated me.
“No.” I shook my head slowly, my eyes flickering down to the adorable pout on her lips. “I think you’re mysterious and fascinating.”
The pout unraveled into a soft smile. “Fascinating, huh?”
The slight tease sent my heart racing, and I simply nodded before turning back to the movie. The chemistry between us was steadily building, and being close enough to feel her chest rise and fall with every breath wasn’t helping.
I stopped being the annoying movie partner. My mind was otherwise occupied with keeping my shit together, i.e., not allowing my mind to wander into fantasies of what she’d feel like on top of me.
Occasionally, Wyatt would share a snippet of a theory and other thoughts. I’d pretend I was taking it all in, totally interested and invested, when it was just a ruse to keep me staring into her eyes for longer.
At one point, she said something about the Penguin’s backstory, and we reached for popcorn at the same time.
Our hands brushed against each other, sending a shiver of excitement coursing through me.
Wyatt pulled back a little too quickly to be chill about it, but by the time I turned to look at her she was shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
I didn’t say anything, and continued watching as though that simplest of touches hadn’t just set my entire body on fire. Any other day, any other woman, and I would’ve simply rolled over and kissed her. But for some reason, I held back.
For some reason, I didn’t want it to be that way with her.
“If you could choose,” Wyatt murmured as the movie was coming to an end, “what would your superpower be?”
“Flying. Easy.” I might not have been into those types of movies, but that was a question I’d given some thought over the years. “What about you?”
She didn’t look away when she replied, “Healing. I like the idea of being able to fix the broken,” so I got a front-row seat to the display of raw emotion in her eyes.
The rare moment of vulnerability came without warning, rendering me defenseless. My heart swelled with burning affection for her.
“That’s beautiful,” I said, offering a light smile.
The credits rolled, and we let the comfortable silence envelop us.
It was a moment that said more than words ever could.
Everything unspoken crackled in the air between us, instead.
It felt unlike any other tension I’d had with a woman before.
This time, it felt like potential. Like a promise of more.
“I want to know…”
She was in the middle of belly scratches with Michael Keaton and didn’t stop what she was doing when she looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“About the mask thing,” I clarified. “You said before that it’s the cape that makes him a hero, not the mask.”
Wyatt let out a slow breath and dropped her gaze to her beautiful Lab lying across her legs. My question seemed to catapult her somewhere deep inside her head, because she didn’t say anything for what felt like several minutes. I was about to apologize for bringing it up again when she spoke.
“It’s not hiding, like people think,” she murmured, her playful scratches turning to gentle strokes along Michael Keaton’s back. “Bruce doesn’t use the mask to hide, but to become who he actually is. I get that. More than you know.”
I wanted so badly to hold her. To put my arm over her shoulders and pull her close. Or maybe just my hand on top of hers, interlacing our fingers. Anything. Seeing her that way, hearing Wyatt share of herself with such tenderness made me want to eliminate all distance keeping me from her.
But I didn’t do any of those things.
To distract my brain from the sheer lack of Wyatt in my arms, I reached out and scratched Michael Keaton behind the ears. With two of us lavishing him with affection, the Lab closed his eyes, tail wagging in contentment.
“Is this your mask now?” I asked and kept my eyes on the dog. I didn’t want it to seem like I was coming at her and tried my best to make it feel like a throwaway question.
Wyatt considered me closely, the power of her gaze drawing my eyes to meet hers. Vast oceans swam behind those richest of green windows, making me feel like I’d sink and drown if I weren’t careful.
“What if I said yes?” she asked, her voice faltering a bit. “Would it change what you think of me?”
I didn’t need time to think of an answer. I shook my head slowly. “Yes, but only in that it’ll make me understand you better. So, it’ll change, but not in a bad way, if that’s what you mean.”
“Okay.” She smiled in relief. “Because the answer is yes. Without the mask I’m just-”
“A stinking rich billionaire?” I sat up straight, my gaze darting around the cabin in earnest. “Are you hiding an Alfred around here somewhere?”
The sound of her laughter was like sinking into a warm bath after a long day at work, and I wanted to soak in it for hours.
“Speaking of billionaires…” Wyatt deserved kudos for that skillful turn of the tables. “I have a question for you, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
I was rapt, and she knew it. “Bring it on.”
She stared at me, her eyes carefully searching mine. “What made you go out on that trail?”
“What?” The smile I was wearing quivered a little. “I told you, I’m scouting this location for-”
“I know what you told me,” she cut in. “But you’re smart, successful, and seem to have your wits about you.
You could easily have postponed it to a day that didn’t carry the threat of imminent death.
Something drove you onto that hiking trail during one of the worst storms we’ve seen in a while. What was it?”
Jesus.
Now it made sense why she’d want to have healing powers. It would balance out her inherent ability to strike straight for the jugular with surgical precision. That way, she’d be able to clean the messes she made.
Code blue. We were going to need a crash cart in here, stat.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Wyatt said, after I just sat there and looked at her. “Sorry if I’m being nosy. I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“I was at my best friend’s wedding, and she was the last of us to…
find her person. Well, besides me.” I was talking and feeling things, even though I hadn’t given myself any kind of permission to do that.
Again, Wyatt and her enchanting ways. “They were all there, and happy, and nauseatingly in love, I just… And it’s not that I haven’t been trying.
Give love a chance, that’s my credo. Sometimes I wish… ”
I sighed. It was a sigh to clear the lump in my throat.
Because of all the times to have hot, humiliating tears spring into my eyes, my body had chosen this moment.
I didn’t want to cry about it like a baby.
I had nothing to complain about; my life was amazing.
It was the kind of life people dreamed of living.
“What do you wish?” Wyatt’s hand settled on mine, taking it from Michael Keaton’s head and cradling it in her lap.
I blinked through the mist blurring my vision, and a soft laugh choked out of me.
“I just wish that love would give me a chance for once. I’d looked everywhere, tried everything, and kept coming up short.
I’m at the point where I feel like I’d be better off if I stop looking and hoping and trying.
Maybe love isn’t for me, and I need to accept that. Move on.”
My words lingered in the air like a secret long kept, finally shared between two people who’d stumbled upon an unexpected connection.
Wyatt looked at me, her eyes brimming with empathy. “You took the hike to get away from that feeling. One extreme to replace another.”
I nodded, a weight lifting from my chest. “I wanted to be somewhere that wasn’t constantly reminding me of what I don’t have. Everyone has someone, so I figured… no people, no risk of having to see them be in love with each other.”
“Makes sense,” she said. “What about now?”
“What do you mean?” I knew what she meant, but I was afraid to answer. Especially when I was close enough to count the light dusting of freckles on her nose.
“Hoping and trying for love,” she replied simply. “Are you still done with it? Do you still believe love isn’t for you?”
I hesitated for a moment, our faces drawing nearer as if pulled by an invisible force. A force that was growing stronger with each passing second.
“I’m not so sure anymore,” I whispered.
Closer still, and Wyatt made no move to look away and pretend this wasn’t happening. My heart felt ready to hammer right out of my chest. There would be no interruption from static noise, or a beeping watch, or an untimely phone call. No, she was ready and so was I. This was happening.
And when her lips met mine, I gave a small gasp.
I don’t know whether it was out of surprise that it actually happened, or relief that it finally did.
Either way, our mouths were touching, and it didn’t matter that my heart had stopped and my lungs had forgotten how to breathe. Nothing mattered, because Wyatt…
She slid her hands to my neck, inching them up slowly until they cradled my face, holding me in place.
Then the tip of her tongue was nudging me, urging me to open up for her.
My lips parted, and I breathed her in like a rush of blood to the head.
God, the way she kissed me… it was like we had all the time in the world.
Time she used to slowly, painstakingly drive me insane.