Chapter Eighteen #2

eyes.

“That’s good. He sounds like an amazing

partner. I wish you all the best on your new collaboration.” Ethan

smiled knowingly as Wes’s face continued to burn. Ethan’s phone

vibrated suddenly. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Wes sat there pondering their conversation

while Ethan checked his phone and typed away.

“This was really nice, Wes, but I gotta get

back to work. My agent is after me about another public appearance

opportunity, and I’ve got a forty-eight hour deadline for my next

draft.”

Ethan made to pull out his wallet, but Wes

intervened. “Nope, I’ve got it. My pleasure.”

“Thanks, Wes. Hey, here are my contact

details.” Ethan handed over a plain black business card. “Stay in

touch, okay? Who knows, maybe we can work together on a book in the

future.”

Wes shook Ethan’s hand. “I’d like that. Take

care.”

Wes ordered another drink and sat quietly

looking out over the harbor, taking in the sunset and enjoying the

happy, frenetic atmosphere of the bar. He wondered what Ryker would

think of this place, this view. He’d probably grumble about too

many tourists. Then they’d sit closely together, and talk about

anything and everything, and sip wine and stare at each other like

no one else existed. Jesus, I guess I’m ready to write those

love scenes now. Maybe Ethan was right. Wes’s previous

experience at a relationship soured him for years, but it was based

on lies. Was he ready to try again? Maybe there was something to

the idea of having a partner, someone to hold hands with while

watching the sunset.

Half an hour later, Wes was walking back to

his hotel when his phone rang. The call display said Unknown

Number.

Wes answered. “Hello?”

“Hello, Wesley,” a smooth voice murmured.

“It’s been a long time.”

Kieran. Fuck my life.

“Did you get my e-mail, Wesley? I’ve been

trying to reach you for ages, but your annoying little assistant

keeps blocking my attempts,” Kieran complained.

“If you’re referring to Luca, he is anything

but annoying or little. And why the fuck are you calling me now

after three years? What do you want?” Wes demanded.

Kieran sighed. “I just want to see how

you’re doing, my love. I’ve missed you terribly. And I see from the

news that you’ve been busy fucking everything that moves, but

there’s no evidence of any relationships. I guess you’ve never

gotten over me, have you?”

Kieran’s smugness ratcheted Wes’s temper up

ten notches. “There was nothing to get over. We had fun, you lied

and betrayed me, I kicked you out on your sorry ass, end of story,”

Wes barked. “And there’s no fucking sequel or part two. But let me

guess, you’re flat broke again and need money, right?” Wes heard

Kieran’s faint gasp on the other end of the line. “Well, tough

shit. Now, I don’t know how you got hold of this number, but you’d

better erase it from your phone and never, ever contact me again.

Got it?”

“This isn’t over, Wesley. See you around,”

Kieran replied with a monotone voice, then hung up.

Wes dialed Luca but got his voicemail. “Hey,

it’s me. Kieran just called my cell. I don’t know how the fuck he

got my number, and his showed up as unknown, so I can’t block it.

Let me know if he’s contacted you or Grey. Oh, and I need to make a

change in my itinerary, so call me back ASAP. Thanks.”

Then he texted Ryker.

Wes: How are you? Long time no

text.

Ryker: Busy. Sent you back your chapter

with notes. I’ve also added another chapter for you to review. It’s

very good. I think we have something here. Being on the road must

be good for your writing. Your block is ebbing away.

Wes: Not how’s work. How are you?

Ryker: I’m okay. Still tired. Work and

fur babies keeping me busy. Oh, and I have to call my sister in

Australia. I need to set aside at least two hours for that.

Wes: She likes to talk?

Ryker: She’s a linguistics professor so

the answer is yes.

Wes: Interesting. Speaking of talking, I

chatted with a former FBI investigator today. Very cool

guy.

Ryker: Ethan Blackwell? Saw him on the

list for your event, lucky you.

Wes: He’s awesome but sadly into women.

Besides, he isn’t a grumpy New Yorker.

Ryker: Are you saying you like

me?

Wes paused, his earlier promise to himself

to focus on their writing partnership slowly dissolving. Instead,

he blurted out exactly how he felt.

Wes: Yes. I admit it. I can’t stop

thinking about you.

Ryker: I know the feeling. Is it okay to

say I miss you?

Wes was lightheaded. Was this really

happening? Was he going to reach for something more?

Wes: I miss you too.

Ryker: We’re sappy. Jesus, don’t show

anyone these texts!

Wes: No way. Sappy is our secret.

Ryker: I gotta go. Spock and Isaac are

hissing and growling at each other and WW3 is about to erupt in my

living room.

Wes: Give them all a scratch for me. Oh,

and BTW, my writing is better now because I have a stimulating

partner to work with

Ryker: So that means I can take all the

credit when our book is a success? Cool.

Wes: Haha.

Ryker: Talk soon, safe travels.

Wes: C u soon.

Luca called back and Wes had him rearrange

his travel. Fuck it. He had two days before he was due to arrive in

Portland, and in the meantime, there was only one place he wanted

to be.

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