Chapter 20 Wesley
Wesley
“Nooo,” I groaned, and both Ru and Brooke headed over to me immediately.
“What’s wrong?” Ru asked.
“What happened?” Brooke added
“Date. Suit.” I managed
“Sentence?” Brooke prompted and exchanged a glance with Ru.
They’d been introduced the morning after he’d arrived when Brooke had popped in for something quick, and then the two of them had bonded over crime thrillers, and she’d never left.
It had been three days, and Ru was still quiet, reserved, not wanting to talk yet.
But I knew when he was ready, I’d be there to listen, and for now, hearing him discuss grisly murders in books was something I’d happily listen to all day.
Hunter had been squirrely since Ru arrived, but not in a bad way.
He’d been over every night, gone around the market with Ru, played games at my small table in the kitchen, even when he was quiet and introspective.
I guessed he hadn’t planned on his affair with the small-town bookstore owner including said bookstore owner’s brother.
“Hunter wants to go on a date…”
“And…”
“And I need to wear a suit, and I don’t even have a suit.”
Brooke burst out laughing, nearly choking, and Ru was bemused. With our parents it had been nothing but suits and ties and formal shit, and he probably thought that was real life. The last thing I would have taken with me when I ran was a freaking suit.
“You look so serious,” Brooke wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes while I glared.
“Hunter’s asked me out on an official date, not just cuddling and reading and sex,” I clapped a hand over my mouth when her lips twitched again, and Ru’s eyes widened. “And I need to wear a suit; there’s nothing funny about that.”
“Of course,” she said, and then snorted another laugh, and half hugged me. ”I’ll text Bailey—he’s about your size.”
As soon as the store shut, I had Bailey standing in my bedroom, arms crossed, grinning as if he’d just been cast in a makeover show, tossing jackets and shirts at me as Brooke and Ru watched. The three of them had a grand time while I sweated bullets in the corner.
“Where is Hunter taking you?” Bailey asked.
“Is it special?” Ru asked.
“I bet it is,” Bailey added.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, flapping my hands. “But a suit. I mean, it’s not BB’s, is it? I’m so nervous it’s ridiculous. And excited. Both.”
Bailey laughed, clapping me on the back. “Relax, you look great. Now walk for us.”
“Work it girl!” Brooke demanded, and I wiggled my hips.
They made me strut up and down the room as if I were on a catwalk, Brooke whistling, Ru grinning, and Bailey applauding, all of them way too entertained by my misery.
By the time Bailey had adjusted the cuffs, and Brooke had insisted on fixing my dark blue tie twice, I was buttoned up, stiff as cardboard, staring at myself in the mirror.
“You okay, Wes?” Ru asked from next to me.
“Yeah. Are you going to be okay here tonight…” unspoken was on your own?
“Of course, I am. I’m twenty-two, not five.”
He had a point. Nervous didn’t begin to cover it. My fingers wouldn’t stay still, tugging at the fabric, smoothing the lapels. I was waiting for Hunter, dressed up like some version of myself I hardly recognized, and hoping he’d think it was worth all the panic.
Right on time, the knock came at the back door, and the three of them hid at the top of the stairs when I went down.
My stomach fluttered. I opened it, and Hunter was standing there in his own suit, impossibly handsome, a coat over his arm, his hair neat, a nervous smile tugging at his mouth.
For a long moment, we just stared at each other.
“Wow,” he blurted at last after stumbling over half-started words and glancing away nervously before his gaze snapped back to me, eyes sweeping down and back up. “You look incredible.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I laughed awkwardly. “Back at you.” Gone was the grumpy barista, and in his place was a man who reminded me more of the time before I’d stopped being a Fairfax-Fitzalan.
I stepped outside, locked the door behind me, and, without thinking, wrapped my arms around him in a hug. “You look so damn sexy,” I murmured against his ear. “Are you sure we even have to go out?”
“Absolutely. I want to show you off.”
“You do?” He did?
“Yes.”
“And you’re not telling me where you’re taking me, are you?”
“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a surprise,” then he sobered and cradled my face. “A good one, I hope.”
We drove out of Wishing Tree, the tires crunching over packed snow, our breath fogging faintly in the chill of the car.
The quiet between us was thick with anticipation, every brush of his hand on mine on the console making me want to press closer.
Snow curled across the windshield, the road lit by strings of Christmas lights on the houses we passed.
Hunter was quiet beside me, his hand brushing mine on the console, his jaw set in nervous anticipation.
I wanted to ask him a dozen times where we were going, but his smile stopped me.
I saw signs for the college he’d interviewed at, but that could’ve been a coincidence.
Only when he turned onto the campus drive did it become obvious where we were stopping.
My pulse spiked. He pulled into a space and let the engine idle, headlights throwing golden light across the snow, like he was working up to something.
The campus rose out of the snow like a fairytale castle—brick buildings dusted with white, wreaths strung on every lamppost, tall windows glowing amber in the night.
My heart tripped over itself. “Hunter,” I whispered, awe spilling out of me.
“It’s beautiful.” I couldn’t help whispering, “It looks magical, like something out of a storybook.”
Hunter gave a quiet, nervous laugh. “Like one of your castles, right?”
“More beautiful than any castle.”
“That’s exactly what I hoped you’d think.”
“Is there some kind of restaurant here?” It certainly looked old and stately enough to contain a million different things.
“No.” He dipped his head and mumbled something, then met my gaze head-on. “I want people to meet my boyfriend,” he said, and reached over to take my hand.
The word boyfriend slammed into me, my stomach dropping even as my chest fluttered. I stared at him, half thrilled, half terrified, and managed a shaky laugh. “‘Boyfriend’? Did you just use the B-word?”
He smiled, leaning over to kiss me quickly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“That’s what you are, I mean, I don’t know what else to call someone I’ve fallen in love with.”
Double whammy. “What?”
“I love you, Wesley Darkwood.”
I was doing my best goldfish impression, and then it hit me all at once. He was waiting for me to process, and he was freaking nervous.
My throat went tight, my heart thudding painfully, but the words broke free anyway. “I love you too, Hunter,” I whispered, voice rough, because holding it in any longer felt impossible. “Wherever you go, whatever you decide… I won’t stop loving you.”
“That’s why I want you to meet the faculty here.”
Heat surged through me but so did panic.
“Shit,” I muttered, pulling back just enough to search his face.
“Is this part of the interview? Oh my god, are you testing them? To see if they’ll accept that you’re queer or something?
” The thought made my gut twist—because if that was what he was doing, then fuck this college.
I rushed on, panic rising. “Hunter, this could go badly. People get passed over for jobs, harassed, even forced out just for being themselves—you know that, right? They can’t do this to you.
I won’t let them.” My words tumbled too fast, my chest tight, my heart pounding with fear for him, and I tried to tug my hand free—what if someone saw us?
Before I could spiral further, Hunter broke in the only way he knew how—by yanking me close, then kissing me, firm and certain, stealing the rest of my protest right off my lips.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested to mine, his voice steady.
“I’m not testing anyone, Wes. I just want my new colleagues to meet the man I love. ”
I was still indignant at the thought of discrimination, railing silently about every unfair story I’d ever heard—and then it hit me. His new colleagues?
“What?”
“Wait here,” he said, turned off the engine, then came around to open my door as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Snow crunched underfoot, the cold air stinging my cheeks, our breath fogging in the lamplight. I held his hand tight as I stepped out.
“What do you mean your new colleagues?”
“The dean invited me to a faculty dinner,” he explained, voice careful and low. “And…I’ve accepted the post here.”
I blinked at him, stunned. “Here?”
“I love you, Wes,” he said, eyes steady on mine. “There wasn’t a choice to be made.”
I was horrified. “No, don’t choose a place just because of me, that isn’t right, that is—”
He kissed me again, and I was like putty in his hands, melting into his hold.
When he pulled away, he pressed a finger to my lips.
“I want a college where I can make a difference. It feels right. It feels like home. And I want to stay in Wishing Tree with you and work on being together.”
The snow drifted around us, and my chest ached with more emotions than I could name.
We hugged each other hard in the softly falling snow, neither of us willing to let go. My head was a mess of relief and wonder, and I could feel his heart hammering.
“You’re everything to me,” Hunter said, his breath warm against my temple. “I’m not selling The Real McCoy. Not leaving. I won’t run it, but we could get a manager in, and hey, what if we knocked through the old wall between us? You think they would give us permits for a café bookshop?”
“Hunter—”
“No, please, don’t stop me. Wes, I want forever with you, and I know that sounds dramatic—”