Chapter 18 Wesley
WESLEY
Caitlin was mingling with the others Megan had invited—a few familiar faces, all acquaintances that I was struggling to hold a conversation with. Where is Lake? He was supposed to be getting Rosie, and he’d left over a half hour before. They should be back by now.
I walked over to the open bar area and up to the bartender.
“What’ll it be?”
“Scotch,” I told him, and slid my empty glass toward him.
He filled it without any mindless small talk, and for that, I was grateful.
I shook back my coat, looking at my watch again.
Thirty-four minutes had passed, and there was no good reason why they shouldn’t have been there.
What if something happened? Lake was a terrible driver.
I almost crawled out of my skin when he took off to get her before I could stop him.
A warm body slid up next to me, effectively cutting off my seclusion from the rest of the party.
“What crawled up your ass?” Megan asked, and I breathed a sigh of relief that it was just her.
“Elegant as ever,” I murmured, and took a sip of my scotch. “You really outdid yourself, Meg. This place is amazing.” She didn’t respond to my praise, just keeping her eyes on me as I took sips.
“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” The sound of the bell above the door chimed, and my eyes moved to see who it was before my mind could catch up. Annoyance creeped in when it wasn’t anyone I recognized, and Megan still had yet to say anything else.
“You’re creeping me out.”
“They should be here in five minutes. Lake texted me when they finally managed to make it on the road,” she told me, without addressing any of my previous comments. Managed to make it on the road? What does that mean?
“Managed?” I ground out before finishing my scotch and motioning to the bartender for another.
Megan effectively went back to losing her voice, but I saw the way her eyes roamed over me in assessment, and her lips were turned down into a minimal frown.
If I hadn’t been friends with her since grade school, I wouldn’t have noticed it.
But before I could call her on it, the bell above the door jingled again, and with it, the sound of laughter—laughter I knew.
Laughter that hadn’t been in my life for weeks.
I found myself gravitating toward the sound before I could make sense of what was happening.
Lake had his hand wrapped around Rosie’s waist. I felt my footing falter, but my pace stayed the same until I felt a tug at my side that brought me out of my trajected path, only to be met with Caitlin, who was giving me almost a look identical to the one Megan had been giving me only moments before.
I forced myself to smile at her intrusion.
“Hey, you. I was wondering where you went,” she told me as she placed her hand on my forearm.
“I went to the bar to grab a drink,” I told her, but she raised her eyebrows at me in question as she took in my empty hands.
Instead of focusing on the look on her face, I was pulled toward the sound of laughter again, and once again, I couldn’t stop focusing on how close Lake and Rosie were.
But where is Lionel? The guy who was over at her place the other day, the guy whose existence was littered around her house in projects she never would have done by herself?
I could feel my irritation build as my confusion mounted, but luckily, before I could advance toward the happy couple, Megan’s voice reached me once again.
“Finally! It seems like everyone is here! I’m so excited to have you all here to try out the dishes I’ve been putting together to officially launch into our lunch expansion at Bread and Bloom Bistro.
To make it easy for everyone, we are rockin’ this family style, so grab a seat, and let’s have a fabulous meal with amazing company!
” She raised a glass of what I could only assume was champagne to a chorus of cheers, and I heard Lake’s whistle over everything, pulling me back to him and Rosie again.
I zeroed in on the fact that his arm was now around her shoulders, and he was pulling her close to whisper something in her ear around the cheering.
“You’re staring,” Caitlin told me, her voice soft, but I heard it.
“I just haven’t had a chance to say hello,” I told her, and hugged her to me. “Let’s go find a spot to sit,” I informed my girlfriend, refusing to let my attention wander to anyone else anymore.
The next few minutes were minor chaos while everyone chatted and found spaces next to people they knew or made pleasantries with those they didn’t.
Caitlin took charge of the situation and weaved us in and out of bodies until two empty seats appeared before me, and I was thankful for the reprieve, the entire night feeling suffocating.
I pulled the chair out for her, and was thanked with a smile.
I exhaled deeply, realizing that maybe she wasn’t irritated with me, but just overwhelmed by the entire night. Maybe that’s what it was. Overwhelming.
“And all of a sudden, there’s Lionel.” Laughter broke out around us.
That name had my head tilting up and across from where Caitlin and I sat, and lo and behold, there were Lake and Rosie across from us. They were talking to the couple who sat next to Caitlin on her right, while I sat to her left.
“Lionel?” Caitlin questioned, clearly intrigued at what had them all laughing. But I was still stuck on Lionel. Why isn’t he here with Rosie? Does Lake know him?
“Do you want to tell them or should I?” Lake questioned Rosie, but leaned back in his seat in such a casual way that, once again, had him draping his arm around her shoulders. I tasted the blood on my tongue before registering that I was biting down on it.
“Go ahead, my hero,” she mocked him playfully.
“I go to pick up my girl here,” Lake starts out.
Rosie rolls her eyes while I briefly consider the implication of the words my girl.
“I knock on her door, as a gentleman does, and within five seconds, I’m being attacked by what appears to be a dinosaur!
” Lake is gesturing with his hands, while Rosie is gripping her side from laughing so hard.
Most of us are still a bit confused since they can’t seem to hold it together long enough to finish the story.
Next to me, Caitlin asks, “A dinosaur?” and I tense at her question.
“Yes! This big turtle. He has to be over 500 pounds,” Lake tells her, before Rosie interjects, “He’s maybe 200, and he’s quite short, you big baby.” She smacks him playfully on his arm, and my eyes narrow at their interaction.
“So… you were attacked by a turtle?” Caitlin asks, a smile on her own face.
“His name is Lionel, and he’s an African spurred tortoise, and quite frankly, I think he’s the love of my life.
” She winked at Caitlin, which would have made me happy a few days before, but now, I just felt a sinking feeling.
Like I was stuck in quick sand and needed to move, but couldn’t, stuck in the words that I shouted at her—yelled at her.
She had a pet tortoise, and I had thought she was keeping a relationship from me.
Told my best friend she was a hypocrite.
Lionel was a tortoise.
A tortoise.
My mouth went dry, and I felt myself pale while the room started to spin. Lionel is a tortoise.
“Wes, you okay, man?” I heard Lake’s voice over the rushing sound thrumming between my ears. I flicked my eyes to his, and I saw confusion in them.
“Babe, you okay?” I felt Caitlin’s touch on my arm, and it felt heavy, different, then I felt the smallest amount of pressure and clarity sink in as people started to look at me. I still hadn’t said anything.
“Sorry. I must have had too much scotch on an empty stomach.” I gave them a grin, and I knew it worked when the conversation started to flow again around me. And I felt a prickle of awareness before I gathered enough strength to look over at Rosie.
She had a worried look on her face for a minute until she realized that I was looking at her, and for a brief moment, her features softened, like she was happy to see me.
And I felt my chest swell as the numbness I’d felt earlier seemed to dissipate.
I tried to convey how sorry I was for being a complete dick with a look, but the corner of her lips tipped down in a frown for a fraction of a second. Anyone else would have missed it.
“I’m just waiting for a key,” Caitlin said wistfully.
Before I could stop myself, I asked, “A key?”
“To your place.”
“A key to my place,” I parroted back at her.
“Of course. I mean, I already have three drawers. We want the same things.” Her eyes lit up as she said it, and I was stunned. Of course I wanted those things…I mean… Of course I did.
“I’m going to grab a bit of fresh air,” Rosie spoke quietly to Lake, trying not to disturb anyone else’s conversation. But I heard her words immediately, and I watched as she gave everyone a shy grin before she made her departure.
“I need to use the restroom,” I said before she was out of my eyesight, not bothering to wait for anyone’s response as I followed in her direction.
Rosie hadn’t heard my declaration, or if she did, she made no move to wait for me.
She just kept her steady pace as she made her way to the small patio on the side of the building that was still under construction—Megan had a few months until it was outdoor-sitting weather.
I watched her for a few moments as she gripped the railing and took what looked like a few deep breaths.
“Rosie,” I whispered, but because of the stillness of the night, she heard me crystal clear.
I saw the way her body seemed to freeze for a second before she let out a small shake, like she was preparing for something painful.
I winced at the realization that she was having that reaction because of what I’d said to her last time.
My body moved of its own accord until I was standing in front of her, unsure of what to say, sorry not seeming adequate.
“So, Lionel’s a tortoise, huh?” I tried to go with humor.
One of Rosie’s favorite things was to laugh.
I saw the way her lips tipped up briefly before she concealed it.
I hated that, and I moved my thumb to swipe the seam of her lips, willing them to smile.
Her body relaxed for the first time since she’d been in my presence.
“I’m so sorry I was a dick. I…I don’t know why I acted that way.”
She still didn’t say anything, just looking up at me with more questions I didn’t seem to have the answers to.
I moved my hand to cup her cheek, and she let out a harsh breath as her body tilted closer to mine before she pulled away from me.
I felt the loss of her in my fingers first, and then it traveled up my arms and settled between my ribs like ice. And then she spoke.
“I’m happy that you’re happy, Wes. Really,” she murmured.
But even as the coldness was still settling in, I could only focus on one thing at the moment.
Rosie had called me Wes, and it felt like all the oxygen was being sucked out from the sky, which I logically knew held an endless supply.
So why does it feel like I can’t breathe?