Chapter 23 Wes
Wes
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” Isla asks on the walk to my truck.
We’re leaving the arena for the date I never believed she’d give me.
I toss her bag onto the truck bed and open the passenger door for her.
She’s breathtaking in a turquoise sleeveless flowy dress with an overlay of lace and a brown belt.
Her brown sandals, which expose more of her feet than cover them, bring her a few inches closer to my height, so obviously I love them.
She waits outside the door, staring me down in an attempt to convince me to spill our plans.
“We’re going to my favorite place and that’s all I’m going to say. Let me surprise you, Red.”
“Fine,” she groans, hopping into the truck. She holds up a finger before I close the door. “But for the record, I hate surprises.”
I shut her door, leaning into the window and resting my elbows. “I know. It’s our thing to annoy each other.”
She shakes her head, a smile spreading across her face. I give her control of the aux as I head toward the highway that leads out of Palmer City toward my hometown. It’s an hour drive, but in her presence, I don’t mind it one bit.
We keep the windows down, letting the summer air rush into the car. Isla’s hair whips around her face, while she stares out the window, eyes closed. The opening to one of my favorite songs begins to play.
“Interesting choice of date music,” I shout to her over the wind.
She says something, but I can’t pick up on the words over the music. I hit the off button on the radio, and she grumbles.
“Sorry, couldn’t hear you. I have hearing loss and ringing in my right ear,” I explain. “Sometimes I don’t pick up on every word if it’s noisy.”
“Well, now I feel like an ass.”
I grin at her. “That’s nothing new.”
She rolls her eyes, but surprisingly doesn’t sass me back. “The ringing must be frustrating.”
“It’s been this way for a decade, so I’ve gotten used to it. I’ve mostly learned to tune it out. It’s tougher in the quiet.” I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. “So, what did you say?”
“Oh. Right.” She laughs to herself. “I said that being angsty is our thing.”
“So, let’s angst.” I turn the radio back on.
The song kicks up, a blast of percussion, before the singer’s haunting, raw vocals come through the speakers. Isla sings along every angry word at the top of her lungs.
We continue like this until our first destination comes into view. Isla bolts up in her seat to turn the music down.
“You’re kidding.” Her wide-eyed stare remains fixated on the roller-skating rink on our right. “This is your favorite place from when you were a kid?”
I park the car in the mostly empty parking lot, happy for us to have the rink to ourselves tonight like we did the first time we skated together. “This is our first stop.”
“Feeling nostalgic, Davidson?”
“Maybe I wanted a rematch.”
Isla throws her head back and laughs, and it brings me immediately to the night we first met.
I still see her in that hallway, an oversized sweatshirt swallowing her body.
She quieted herself as she heard me approach, not lifting her head from where it rested on her forearm, hoping I’d keep walking.
But she’s impossible to ignore.
I made it my mission to make her laugh, to forget about whatever had made her sad. When she beat me in a race across the roller rink that night and showboated through boisterous, bragging laughter, I felt like I won.
We retrace the steps from the first night we met—buying our tickets, getting fitted for skates, lacing up side by side, and venturing out onto the rink, hands joined.
“I tried to find you,” Isla says as we make our first lap. It’s us and a mother and her kids beneath rainbow disco lights.
“When?”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “After we met, and the stupid airport ‘lost’ my phone. I searched for every combination of your name and each of the skaters’ last names. For weeks.”
My heart stops beating for a second.
“I’m not on social media.”
“I still won’t fly into the Newark airport.”
I bark out a laugh, stunned at the admission.
“I don’t think you missed much,” I tell her, shifting behind her and gripping her hips as we continue to skate. The cinnamon scent of her hair wafts my way each time it sways with our movements. It’s my new favorite way to skate.
“Smooth move.” Isla briefly glances over her shoulder at me before refocusing on the rink. “Obviously, not with the airport, but….”
On me. My hands grip her tighter, overcome by a need to be closer to her.
“I was convinced that our connection was in my head and that you were humoring me when you took my number. But I still thought about you anyway. You made me want something for myself for the first time since my mother left.”
Isla’s hands land on mine, pushing them off her hips. She speeds up, putting more paces between us, before she spins around to face me. She skates backward until I reach her, tugging me close with that damn invisible string that tethers me to her.
“Want to know what I think?”
I swallow hard, nodding for her to continue.
“I think we would’ve met up at another competition, and figured out we didn’t grow up too far from each other.
We would’ve had more firsts together. We’d break each other’s hearts, and heal them again and again until we finally got it right.
I don’t think we can escape each other, Wes.
Two months ago, I would’ve hated that, but now… ”
I move closer to her, one leg landing between hers as our bodies align flush against each other. “Now?” I prompt.
“I hope I’m not wrong,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I tug on the ends of her hair. “Covington, the romantic.”
“Shut up.” She slaps my bicep as that blush I love fills her cheeks.
I lower my face to hers, and she kisses me. This one feels different, not stemming from jealousy, or attraction, or lust. It’s a confession of her feelings for me.
And I’ll be damned if I screw this up.
“I’m starting to see the appeal of this monstrosity.
” Isla lies on her back with her eyes closed across the blanket I’ve spread on my truck bed.
Specks of sunlight dance across her face, shining through the trees overhead.
We have another hour or two before the sun sets and we’re drenched in darkness, before we can slip into the lake for a night swim.
“Monstrosity,” I repeat with a hint of amusement.
She cracks one eye open, throwing her arm up to shield the sun. “This truck and I have a complicated history.”
“Not for me,” I say, settling against the side of the truck.
“Well, obviously not. I was the aggrieved party thanks to…” She slaps a hand to the wall of the truck, sending a flock of birds scattering from a nearby tree.
“Oh, I took the most damage that day.”
Her eyebrow raises. “I wasn’t that mean. More loud—”
“I’m not talking about anything you said.
Your existence was all it took.” I think about stopping there, not wanting to confess too much too early.
But then, I look at Isla, who’s staring at me through her lashes, quietly waiting for me to continue.
I can’t deny her. “I was wrecked because even though I’d seen you on TV countless times through the years, it didn’t hold a candle to seeing you in person, and—”
Isla shifts into a sitting position, smoothing her dress over her legs as she sits criss-cross. “Wait—you watched me compete on TV?”
“Not the point, Red.”
“What is the point, Wes?” She grins at me.
“Getting yelled at over the car was annoying, but it was eclipsed pretty fucking quickly by how unnervingly stunning you looked when your face turned the shade of a tomato.”
“That’s why you call me Red? I thought it was because of my hair.”
Isla crawls toward me, maneuvering around our food. She lifts her dress, draping one leg over me to land to the right of my hip, and I catch a flash of her thigh. Her left follows the same pattern until she’s in my lap, cradled against me.
My hands land on her hips. “I love how you look when you’re giving me shit. Even though you’re a pain in my ass,” I breathe against her neck, pulling her tighter to me.
“You’ll forget all about that in a minute,” she whispers, pressing her lips beneath my ear.
I sigh, my eyes closing from that simple touch and the anticipation of the next one. “Isla?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re working me up to the point of no return.”
“Yeah?” Her hips rotate forward as she continues, planting soft, teasing kisses down my neck. “That’s the goal.”
I’m rigid in seconds.
“We shouldn’t do this out here.” My hands slip beneath her dress, skimming along the soft skin of her thighs. She’s fucking heavenly beneath my fingers.
She pulls back and meets my gaze. “You want to stop?”
“No.” My response is immediate, my wants rebelling against logic.
“Wes, I want you now. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” She guides my hands higher, shoving aside her panties. “Feel how ready I am for you.”
“Shit, Isla,” I hiss. My fingers apply pressure to her clit, desperate to hear her moan. “Take your dress off.”
“I thought we shouldn’t do this,” she teases, slowly dragging her dress up her body.
My impatience gets the better of me, and my hands land on hers, pulling it over her head. I lean forward, seizing her breast with my mouth, my tongue running along her hardened nipple.
“What did I say about being a brat, Red?”
I sloppily drag my mouth across her chest to her other breast, nipping at her skin, then smoothing it with my tongue. I want to mark every inch of her, to make it crystal fucking clear that she’s taken.
Her head falls back as she sighs. “Wes,” she moans. Her hands tug at my hair, and I lose all train of thought. Fuck, it feels good knowing she’s at the end of her tether.
Nothing turns me on more than seeing her like this.
“I’m done waiting.” She lifts herself off my lap and shimmies out of the lace barrier between us.