Chapter 22
22
CARLEE
I didn’t predict him dropping down on one knee. When his hand took mine, a bolt of electricity surged between us. When our gazes met, I knew he meant every damn word.
My heart still hasn’t stopped thumping hard in my chest as if trying to escape the overwhelming emotions threatening to take over. The gentle touch of his fingers along my arm makes my breath hitch. Warmth spreads through me. As I hold my hand out to meet his friends, the diamond shines in the warm glow of the lights, casting tiny sparkles that dance across our faces. It feels like I’m living in a dream.
The happiness he wears is genuine, radiating from him like sunshine. I see the promise burning behind his unwavering gaze—he will save our friendship if it’s in danger.
“Carlee’s my best friend,” Weston admits, his voice smooth as he kisses my knuckles.
The wink he gives me nearly does me in.
He commands the room effortlessly as his friends and acquaintances greet and congratulate us as if we were royalty. The experience is different, and right now, I don’t feel like an onlooker in Weston’s life. The shift in the room is immediate. We exchange stolen glances and shy smiles—a language that no one else can decode.
I’m introduced to so many people that my mind spins, names and faces melting into a blur of laughter and cheer. Weston shines under the spotlight, and I’m grateful he can so effortlessly keep conversations going. His words are full of charm and charisma, and I could watch him under this light all night.
I’ll help however I can, knowing he’d do the same for me.
He leans in closer, whispering in my ear, “Fake fiancée looks good on you.” His warm breath sends a shiver down my spine.
“You had this planned the whole time?” I ask when he pulls me back onto the dance floor.
“I didn’t,” he replies with a casual shrug. “But the timing felt perfect.”
“You just carry an engagement ring in your pocket for funsies?” I ask as he spins me around.
I try to wrap my mind around the sudden shift in our relationship.
He whispers, “Can never be too prepared. It was just in case I resorted to the fuck it plan.” He smirks, his gaze flicking down to the ring.
“It’s very similar to Lexi’s. I shouldn’t have this,” I whisper. Her ring is a pink emerald-shaped diamond. The only difference is the color. Mine is crystal blue.
A sense of disbelief coats me. I’m not exactly sure how we got here.
“Agree to disagree. My grandmother would’ve wanted you to have this. When she thought she lost her original ring, my grandfather replaced it with this one. She adored and cherished it for decades,” he states with conviction, twisting it around my finger. “It was meant for you. I didn’t even have it resized. Perfect fit.” His words float in the air.
After many more conversations filled with laughter, several glasses of wine, and dancing, we unexpectedly find Lexi and Easton in the crowd. I didn’t even realize they were still here. Their voices ring with laughter as they joke with Asher and his brother, Nicolas.
“There’s the happy couple! Congratulations again!” Asher calls out, waving us forward with a drunken smile. “I was just telling Easton that I couldn’t believe you two have been seeing one another for a year and kept it hidden for so long. Super impressive.”
“It’s very impressive. A year. Weston’s great at keeping secrets,” Easton adds, his tone laced with sarcasm as he glares at his brother before turning his gaze toward me.
Emotions fill his darkening eyes, and I’ve seen that same expression on Weston’s face before. He’s pissed , and I can feel the tension boiling beneath his casual demeanor.
I guess Weston didn’t tell him about our weekly meetings after all. I always suspected he had or that maybe Easton had pieced it together in his own way.
Weston keeps his grin intact, effortlessly finishing his wine. The mood around him is light. “Anyway, I think we’re going home. Are you staying?”
“We’ll join you,” Easton replies, shaking Asher’s hand firmly, though I can sense the underlying edge of frustration. “We’ll chat soon.”
The four of us leave together, and the room’s energy follows us as we make our way to the door.
“Interesting,” Easton states, tucking his hands into his pockets as we walk through the cozy living room on the first floor.
Weston glances at me, his brows raised. The boyish grin I adore so much stretches across his face. When he looks at me like that, I can almost convince myself that this is possible.
“That timeline can’t be right.” Lexi shakes her head as she interlocks her fingers with Easton’s.
“It’s correct,” Weston insists firmly as we climb into the spacious interior of the sleek limo. We sink into the soft leather seats.
“You knew each other in February?” Lexi’s voice comes out as a whisper, her eyes darting between us, as if she’s trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. “I didn’t meet Easton until the summer.”
There are too many hidden truths that I’m not sure where to start. I never expected Weston and I would be discussing this with them tonight.
Weston hesitates as the weight of our reality hangs between us. “We met a year ago at Sluggers and became friends. We watched a lot of baseball and drank shitty booze together,” he recounts, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips as he recalls the nights filled with laughter.
Easton watches us intently, his gaze piercing yet playful before his face cracks into a smirk. “You hooked us up.”
Weston wraps his arm around me, proudly giving me every ounce of his attention. “We just made sure you were in one another’s orbit so you could collide. You did this. It’s impossible to force two stubborn people into falling in love.”
He turns to Lexi and Easton.
“You wanted us to be together?” Lexi asks, her voice full of disbelief.
“Yes, after a few conversations, we knew you would be perfect together,” I chime in. My heart swells when I think about them.
“We met weekly to discuss it because neither of you would’ve responded to a planned date,” Weston admits. “You’re welcome. But also, congrats. And thanks for proving us right.”
“I can’t believe this. You’ve known each other for a year,” Lexi says.
“She needs to be rebooted,” I say to Easton. “I think she’s stuck in a loop. And, yes, when the clock strikes midnight, it will officially be a year since I spoke to Weston and bought him a beer,” I answer .
The time flew by so quickly.
“You planned everything ?” Lexi asks.
“Not everything, but a lot of things,” I explain.
“The yellow roses were actually for Carlee. When you stole Easton’s car and pretended to be him,” Lexi interjects, realization dawning on her. “Wow, okay, you two are pros.”
Weston chuckles at her compliment. His laughter is like home. “It worked out the way it should’ve. That’s all that matters.”
“Now I feel dumb. I thought I’d introduced you at your birthday party,” Lexi says.
I smile. “Sorry about that. But it was adorable.”
“This makes so much sense,” Easton says, shaking his head. “Of course.”
“That’s the first night I saw the look. You’ve felt this way since then. I knew it,” Lexi says directly to Weston.
“What is she referring to?” I turn to him, and he chuckles nervously.
“Enough, Lex,” Weston urges as the limo rolls to a stop.
We get out of the car, and he grabs my hand. A teasing smile plays on his lips as he leads me into the lobby of Park Towers. Lexi and Easton trail behind us, but we’re too locked in with one another to care.
“What is she talking about?” I tease. My heart throbs as we step onto the elevator. He presses the button to shut the door, so we’re alone.
In an instant, his mouth is on my neck.
“You already know,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin.
“Fuck,” I gasp.
Exhilaration and need wash over me as he devours my lips with a desperate urgency. The doors slide open, and in one swift motion, he lifts me over his shoulder, carrying me inside his penthouse .
“You can’t just pick me up like a caveman.” I laugh, my voice bubbling with joy as my body rests over his shoulder.
He holds my thighs tight, smacking my ass. I yelp, but I love the way it feels.
“Says who?”
“Me!” I retort as he pushes open his bedroom door.
The anticipation of what lies ahead has me in a choke hold.
Carefully, Weston lays me down on the mattress, and I lean up on my elbows, watching my Prince Charming loosen his tie, his fingers slipping the fabric from around his neck, revealing the muscles beneath his shirt.
“Stay right here,” he mutters, his voice low.
I tilt my head, drinking in every chiseled muscle. “Okay.”
The night has been a blur, and I’m living in a constant state of shock, wondering how this happened.
Earlier, everything was in disarray, and life felt chaotic and uncertain. Why does it now seem like the stars are aligning?
Weston steps out of his room, and I can hear him skipping down the stairs, the faint sounds of his footsteps echoing through the stillness. I lie back on the bed, glancing at the ring around my finger, seeing it sparkle in the glow of the lamp beside the bed. I tell myself this is fake.
Weston returns, and he’s holding a cupcake with a flickering candle on top. The flame dances and casts a glow across his face. He’s protectively cupping the flame with his hand as he walks toward me.
I sit upright, my heart racing.
Weston drops to his knees so we’re face-to-face. The moment’s full of unspoken words. “Happy one year.”
I glance up at the clock on the wall, and I notice it’s just past midnight. “But we weren’t dating.”
“Weren’t we?” Carefully, he brushes my hair out of my face, his fingers grazing against my skin. “We’ve seen each other weekly, except for that month I was away on business.” He searches my face for understanding. “And you would’ve fucked me at least five times.”
I scoff, offering a teasing smile. “Oh, it was more than five.”
“You’re all I ever think about,” he whispers, his breath ghosting across my lips. “Make a wish.”
Weston holds the cupcake in front of me. I meet his gaze, appreciating his thoughtfulness and how he makes the smallest thing feel special.
“Any wish you want,” he mutters.
I think about my life. Uncertainty weaves through the air. I want the impossible to be possible. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, and then quickly blow out the candle.
“Tell me when it comes true,” he says with a wink, almost as if he can read my mind. “You have to taste this icing.”
Carefully, he runs his finger along the frosting, and I open my mouth, allowing him to feed it to me.
“Mmm. Damn,” I say, resting my arms on his shoulders as he leans in close, our faces mere inches apart. “I want you so bad, Wes.”
He leans forward, tracing his lips across mine, tasting my words.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, desperate for him.
He sets the cupcake down on the table next to the bed, then unbuckles the heels from my feet, his lips trailing kisses up my leg. With precision, his strong hands slide effortlessly up to the zipper on the side of my dress. Weston hooks his fingers in the thin straps, peeling away the velvety material that clings to my body.
He tosses the dress into a pile on the floor, then stands before me, memorizing and admiring every inch of me. His gaze is intense and full of hunger.
“I like it when you look at me like that,” I admit.
His need for me is undeniable. He’s straining against the fabric of his suit pants.
He slides his suit jacket off his shoulders, the fabric slipping down his toned arms before falling to the floor in a puddle of dark red, and then he carefully undoes his vest and tie. I can’t help but watch each deliberate move he makes as he removes his clothes. Exhilaration soars through me as he undresses for me. I sit up, my hands gliding across the contours of the muscles on his stomach. There are no more barriers between us, no more holdbacks. Our want is raw and unfiltered.
It’s just me and Weston, together and alone. It’s too intimate and overwhelming as passion streams between us. An intense soul connection, the same one I felt the first time our gazes met at Sluggers. That’s when I knew that maybe the two of us had a chance. It was a shot in the dark, two people so opposite from one another that there was no way this could potentially work.
Or maybe it could, and I’ve been living in denial.
My fingers trail across his warm skin, and I lean forward, pressing kisses around his abs.
Weston places his hands on my shoulders, gently guiding me down to the mattress. I sink into it, feeling the cool comforter beneath me. My heart races when he grabs a condom from the bedside table, the sound of the wrapper crinkling a simple reminder of how far we’ve come. I watch him as he sheathes himself, mesmerized by his confidence as he settles between my legs. He pauses outside my entrance.
“What are you waiting for?” I gently ask, aware of the hesitation in his movements.
“We can’t uncross this line,” he reminds me, his voice low. “We can stop.”
“Go slow,” I whisper, pleading with everything I am for him to give himself to me. “Please don’t make me beg anymore. I’ve waited a year for this.”
He grips my waist and does exactly what I asked. Each thrust is deliberate, allowing me time to adjust to every long inch of him. His breath is ragged and erratic in my ear, and it nearly causes me to crumble beneath him .
The magnetic energy between us is intoxicating, and I’m being pulled under, lost in the overwhelming sensation of him. A low growl escapes me; I’m unable to contain the flood of feelings as they overtake every cell in my body.
“Are you okay?” he asks, affection mingling in his tone as he rubs his nose against my neck.
He smiles against my skin.
“It feels right,” I reply breathlessly.
I am so full that I can barely handle it, but he’s so gentle. I thread my fingers through his messy hair, savoring every second with him. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I’m willing to explore it further as long as he’s trekking the dark woods of uncertainty alongside me.
Whimpers escape me. He’s pure ecstasy.
My muscles tense underneath him.
“I want more.” I can barely speak.
His movements are intentional, pushing as far as he can go, and I can’t help but let out a sigh, holding his cheeks with my hands as I meet his gaze, staring into his blue depths.
“Being with you is easy,” I whisper, studying him, hoping he understands what I mean.
It’s not just in this moment; it’s always. I never have to try when I’m with Weston; I just have to be.
Moans tumble from my lips, and I whisper his name in a breathless exhale.
His mouth captures mine, our tongues dancing in a rhythm that feels entirely natural as he slides out of me, only to plunge back in again. Emotions stream between us, and this is more than just having sex. It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s a connection that transcends the ordinary—something I never anticipated. I shouldn’t be lost in this in-between space with him right now, yet here I am, tangled in his web. I lose all control when I’m with him. I always have, and right now is no different .
“You were made for me,” I confess. The thought takes over and nearly consumes me as my back arches off the bed.
“Carlee,” he breathes, each syllable of my name falling from his lips like a prayer, “you feel so good.”
“Yes, yes,” I say, knowing I’m on the brink of demolishment. “Keep doing that,” I whisper as he picks up his pace, slamming into my G-spot.
Warmth floods through me, and I’m lost in the haze of him, wandering in a dream state.
“Oh. Oh. Oh, Wes.” It’s all I can manage as every muscle tightens and releases with euphoric intensity.
I growl out my orgasm, each thrust from Weston sending shock waves through my body until I see glittery stars bursting in the darkness. The room drifts away, dissolving into a blur, and I’m lost with him, consumed by the sensation. The only thing that brings me back to reality is Weston murmuring that he’s close. Seconds later, he’s buckling above me, groaning out his release as he sucks and kisses my neck, leaving tingles in his wake.
Our heads rest together, our breathing stabilizing, and his eyelashes tickle my cheeks as he rubs his nose gently against mine.
“It’s never felt li?—”
“I know,” I say, my voice a murmur.
“My Firefly,” he whispers.
I can’t help but wonder how we found each other in the darkness. I’ve embraced it.
Weston pulls out, and the euphoric moment morphs into something else entirely when he stands, his posture tense.
“What?” I ask, recognizing the alarm in his expression.
“The condom broke,” he whispers, and my gaze instinctively drops to the shredded rubber around his cock.
Panic rises within me. I sit up abruptly.
“Are you on birth control?” he asks, searching my face for reassurance amid the growing worry .
“Yes, but I’ve missed the past few days.” I shake my head. “I haven’t needed them. Since we met, I haven’t been with anyone.”
His face softens as if he’s fighting a war within. He removes the broken band from him and sits next to me, anguish shadowing his features. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I’m not freaking out,” I say, waving my hands in hopes of creating some airflow to cool the sudden heat rising in my chest. “What are the odds?”
“Not zero,” he replies, his expression shifting with concern.
“Do you even want kids?”
The question hangs between us. It’s not something we’ve discussed in detail.
“The timing has to be right,” he confesses in a hushed tone.
“Yes,” I whisper, allowing myself to drift into a daydream.
It’s easy to imagine playing with our children. It streams in my mind like a home movie as unspoken words and emotions float between us. Weston would be pure happiness. I can envision our kids, little versions of us, running around, playing baseball, delicately plucking piano keys, and splattering paint onto a canvas with him. A laugh escapes me as I picture them being cheeky smart alecks with our attitudes.
“It’s a nice thought,” he says, almost as if he saw exactly what I did.
I move to my room and pull my birth control out of my bag. I take the two pills I missed, swallowing them down. When I return to him, I wrap my arms around him and fall back onto the mattress with him. With my head resting on his chest, I hear the rapid thud of his heart as he draws shapes on my arm.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell him, knowing I’ve had a scare like this once before.
“Of course it will.”
A smile touches his lips as he holds me, and the weight of the world melts away. With my arm draped around his waist, I mold against him, feeling like he might disappear if I’m not touching him. Weston gently scratches my back, and I release a relaxed sigh, knowing I lost my full self with him.
I snuggle into him, our faces inches apart as he lifts the blankets over our bodies, covering us.
“I just remembered you said your divorce will be finalized tomorrow.”
“That’s right,” he admits.
“So, I guess the thirty-day timer starts for when you can get remarried?” I ask curiously as he holds me.
His brows leap upward in surprise. “There’s no waiting period in New York. I can get married the next day if I want.”
“Why did she stop fighting you? I don’t understand.”
“After hanging out with my sister, I filed a statement with the court, detailing why I’d asked for a divorce, accompanied by the evidence I’d recently gathered that could put her in prison. She likes her freedom more than my money, so she decided to settle for the original amount I offered her.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek.
His gaze lingers on me, a silent conversation unfolding.
I exhale as emotions swirl between us. “Will you tell me what happened between you two? It’ll stay between us, I promise.”
He’s never told me any details about his divorce, and I want to know so I can support him.
Weston’s eyes close tight, and I interlock my fingers with his, offering my support silently. He can take as much time as he needs.
“I caught her sleeping with her bodyguard, and then I found out she’d hired a hit man to murder me while I was with Easton.”
“No,” I whisper, my heart sinking as I realize the extent of her betrayal. It’s much worse than I ever imagined. My nostrils flare, and nausea rolls in my stomach.
“Brody saved my life,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “If he hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t be here right now. ”
Weston doesn’t say anything for at least ten minutes. “I cherish every day because I was given a second chance. Nothing like a wake-up call after facing the Grim Reaper,” he continues, and I hold him a little tighter as if I can protect him from his past. “I’ve got the best people watching out for us.”
“I can’t imagine a world where you don’t exist,” I breathe out, the realization settling heavily in my heart.
“When we first met and I said you made me feel alive, I meant it. I was a walking corpse, haunted by knowing the woman I’d loved wanted me dead and almost succeeded. I looked past the cheating, but the death wish is unforgivable. She wanted to make sure if she couldn’t have me, no one could.” His voice is full of pain, and I hate that he lived this hell.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.” A few tears spill down my cheeks.
Had Lena succeeded, we would have never met. The thought chills me to the bone.
“Please don’t. I’m still here,” he says, wiping my tears away with his thumb before pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“After all that, you were still kind to her.”
“You never have to meet someone at their lowest,” Weston exhales. “It’s almost over, and eventually, it will be in the past. My publicist did warn me that things might get worse before they get better. We should prepare for online attacks.”
I watch him closely, absorbing the gravity of his words, but I also understand how this works. “I’ll be ready. So will Lux.”
He studies me. “You don’t need to fight my battles.”
“I always have,” I whisper. I always will.
“Your words are your weapon, Carlee. Choose them wisely,” he mutters, wrapping his strong arms around me.
I listen to his heart thump in his chest as his fingers thread through my hair.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks .
“Us. What are we doing?” I place my hands flat on his chest, meeting his blue eyes.
“Right now, we’re cuddling,” he mutters, smiling, completely relaxed. “What is it? Speak freely.”
“I don’t think I can be friends with benefits with you,” I confess.
Weston sits up and searches my face. “Are you ending this?”