Chapter 10 Weston
WESTON
I hadn’t cared when I checked in and was told they’d only service the rooms once a week.
I wasn’t high-maintenance. I didn’t need new sheets every night or brand-new towels every shower.
At the time, I’d been glad because it meant I wasn’t going to need to worry about privacy the way I did at a typical hotel where housekeeping came when it was convenient to them.
But now, as I hugged the pillow close, inhaling deeply despite knowing that it would hurt, I wished that I had asked to upgrade the service.
This was hard. I didn’t understand how people could do one-night stands.
How did they not get attached? It was like my heart was being broken over and over again each time I thought about him.
“Argh.” I went to throw the pillow, but my hands wouldn’t let go.
I didn’t know what cologne he wore, but it was dangerous because it had me once again reliving last night in my head, unwilling to leave its presence.
My phone rang. Of course, my first thought was, Oh, maybe he found a way to call me.
Maybe it’s him, because I wanted it to be him.
Not because there was any hope that it actually was.
It wasn’t even the work phone that was ringing.
It was my personal phone, the one I quickly discovered had no reception outside of town.
Pillow clenched in one hand, I grabbed my phone. It was Stevenson, and honestly, he was the exact person I needed to be speaking to. I hit accept, not considering for a second my current state.
“Are you naked? Please tell me you’re not naked.”
“I have underwear on and a pillow.”
“When did a pillow qualify as clothing?”
“Fine. Hold on.” I put the phone down long enough to grab and put on a t-shirt. “Is this better?”
“Yeah, much. Although, don’t take this the wrong way, but you kinda look like shit.”
“What exactly is the right way to take that?” Not that he was wrong. I’d bawled my eyes out until the shower ran cold. There was no way coming out of that on the other side would be winning modeling contracts.
“Fair.” I still had the pillow clenched in my one hand,
“But seriously, is this town that awful? Are they mean to you because you’re an outsider or something?”
“No, your bestie’s just stupid and caused their own misery.”
“I call bullshit. You are literally the smartest person I have ever met. You have the degrees and the awards to show it.”
I could always count on Stevenson to be my hype man when I needed one.
“Yeah, maybe for science, but I did something really stupid last night… like if you look up the definition for stupid in the dictionary, I wouldn’t be surprised if my face appeared.”
“Deep breaths. I’m sure it’s not that bad. Tell me everything.”
“Fine.” He was the only person I’d feel safe enough telling. Gods, I wished he were here. Doing this over the phone felt extra pathetic. “So, you know, in small towns, there’s one place everybody gathers—”
“When I said tell me everything, I meant skip to the good stuff. Don’t lay the groundwork. Just get right to it. We can always go back.”
He loved gossip and juicy details. He also knew full well that when I got this worked up over something, I often didn’t get the entire story out.
“I took a guy home and banged him, and he wasn’t there this morning.”
“Okay, talk about right to it.” He shook his head. “How about slow down and give me some details? Who was this guy?”
I told him everything, from the time I first saw Asher to the time I woke up and he was gone.
And by everything, I meant the big stuff, I didn’t share the intimate details.
He knew I’d never been with anyone before and respected that boundary I set.
I couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d think if I told him I bit the guy. Who does that?
“Well, at least it was fun,” he said. He didn’t sound like he fully believed that was enough himself, but he was right.
It could’ve been a whole lot worse. The guy could’ve been rough or a thief or into choking or something. All things considered, leaving with a broken heart was by far one of the best possible results.
“Your room looks cute.” And like the awesome friend he was, he changed the subject, which was exactly what I needed.
“Yeah, it’s not too bad. Speaking of rooms, where are you?” I’d been so focused on myself, I hadn’t realized he was in what looked like maybe a coffee shop. Please let him be wearing earbuds, and not have the whole place know what I’m saying.
“Oh, I originally called because I was bored. I’m staying with my uncle for a few days and there’s not much fun to do around here.”
“Are you on vacation?”
“Family obligation. You know how it is.”
I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to push him, because really, it was none of my business what he was up to. And now that I was funded because of his uncle, it felt extra invasive.
“What is there to do where you are?” he asked. “Is it as boring as here when you aren’t working?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But I did go snowshoeing today, so that was fun-ish.” If you left out the part where I was terrified of the one creature I was here for.
“I should’ve come with you.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Why? You don’t like science, you don’t like the cold, and you don’t like being away from the city.”
“While all those things are true, I do like to be nosy, and it sounds like there’s a lot of tea in this town. At least when it comes to you, bestie.”
“Tea?” someone asked. I recognized the voice, and my stomach dropped.
He turned quickly, and with him went the phone. His uncle was in the background. Great.
“Not that kind of tea, Uncle Frank. I’m on the phone with Weston.”
“Oh, well, I needed you to go fix the trash.”
“Fix the trash now?” There were some times when Stevenson sounded like a spoiled teenager. This was one of them.
“Yeah, the bag snagged. It’s everywhere, and the housekeeper isn’t in today. You know how my back is.”
“I’ll call you back, Wes.”
“Okay, I’ll—”
“No, no need for that,” his uncle’s voice boomed. “It’s only going to take you a few minutes. Give me the phone. I’ll keep him company.”
I did not know what was happening right now, but it was weird. Why couldn’t he just call me back?
But Stevenson just said, “Fine,” and handed the phone over to his uncle, and I was stuck making small talk with my benefactor… investor? I didn’t know what he was, because none of this had gone down any of the normal channels.
“You look tired,” Uncle Frank said. “You working too hard already?”
“What? No. I’m fine.” The man did not need to know about my love life, or was it lust life since it was a bang-and-go?
Argh, past-me was the worst decision-maker ever.
“No, I mean, yeah. I was up late last night.”
“Ah, you found your mate.”
“What?” Great. Now my face was burning red. My ears were on fire. How did he look at me and know that I’d had sex? Please don’t let him ask any more questions. And why was he calling sex mating as if it were just some animalistic thing and not a connection between two people.
Only it had been exactly that. Gods, I wanted to hide in a hole. Stevenson needed to be done with his trash duties already.
“I see,” he said. “So, is he the one?”
I hadn’t verbally confirmed a thing and needed to remind myself of that.
Was this the way he got information out of Stevenson?
Asking him questions as if he knew things in order to get a denial or an affirmation?
If so, that was fine for them. I wasn’t playing along.
He might hold the purse strings, but he had no right to information about my sex life.
How eww that he was even bringing it up.
“Can we maybe not have this conversation? I promise you I’m not wasting your money by hooking up with people.”
“We can talk about the funding later.” That didn't sound ominous or anything.
Stevenson came back in, saying the garbage was taken care of.
While I wanted to ask Uncle Frank what he meant about the funding, I was glad to have some more time to think about possible scenarios, so I could be prepared.
My gut said he was thinking of cutting them, and I refused to let that happen without a fight.
“Well, I’ll give you back to your friend,” Uncle Frank said.
“Sorry about that,” Stevenson said once he had the phone back. “He gets weird about weird things, and three papers on the floor and a small tear in a plastic bag is today's."
I wish that was the weirdest thing I’d experienced with the man today.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
“Wait, did he say anything rude to you?”
“No, I’m just… I mean, he was trying to relate to me like ‘the youth.’ You know how that can be.” That was my best guess as to why he’d brought it up, but I wasn’t ever going to ask him. That’d be a big old nope for me.
Whatever the case was, I was glad for it to be over.
By the time I was done talking to Stevenson, I felt better, but not great. I still missed Asher. I still wished I knew what I did wrong or where he went so I could try to fix it, as pathetic as that was.
In a way, I wished I’d never met him, because now that I had, I didn’t see a way of erasing him from my mind. At one point Stevenson had said that I should enjoy the night for what it was, and while that was probably true, I couldn’t help the longing for it to be more.