Chapter 27 Wesley
WESLEY
My phone went off with a text notification, and I all but dove over my bed to snatch it from the charger, disappointment taking over when I realized it was just Lake, seeing if I wanted to grab a few beers and dinner.
I was half tempted to tell him no, just in case Rosie reached out, but it had been about two weeks, and she had yet to.
I was doing what she asked by giving her space, but I was losing my mind.
I found myself pacing at night, glaring at my phone, all my time and energy going into wishing it would ring with a notification from her.
Frustration threatened to take over, and I thought about driving to her house.
But I decided against it because I was determined to do what Rosie had asked of me.
Even if it killed me. I was still unsure why it was affecting me so much, especially as her indifference to me was grating against every part of me.
Even my teeth had started to hurt, and I was pretty sure I had started grinding them in my sleep. Lately, I barely slept, and when I did, I woke up smelling coconut and vanilla, and was rock-hard. Rock-hard.
My dreams were filled with glimpses of honey-blonde hair, black-rimmed glasses, and soft laughs, and I was on edge.
Beer sounds good, I typed out, and hit send before I could change my mind.
Being cooped up those past two weeks was wreaking havoc on me, and I felt extremely on edge.
Maybe talking to Lake would better put things into perspective for me. Maybe it would help.
See you in twenty, Lake messaged back. I figured I could have a beer while I waited for him at the local pub, so I tossed my shoes on and made my way out to my truck, arriving at my destination in less than ten minutes.
It was quiet for a Friday night. A look at the time made me realize why; it was barely six o’clock. I saddled up to the bar as Johnny—the local bartender, and someone I considered an acquaintance—made his way over. “Usual?” he asked.
I nodded. “Please.”
He came back a few seconds later with whatever IPA they had on tap. “Thank you.”
“Just you? Need a menu?”
“Lake will be joining shortly. And no. I think I know this menu like the back of my hand.” It hadn’t changed in all the time I’d been a customer.
He left me in peace to wipe down the other end of the bar.
I pulled my phone out and opened up my text thread with Rosie.
I paused over her contact information. My finger felt heavy, and it ached to hit call.
“Did you fly here?” Lake’s voice sounded from behind me, jolting me from my plan. I hesitated briefly, considering calling Rosie anyway, but thought better of it and put my phone back into my pocket.
“I just wasn’t in the middle of anything,” I told him.
“Usually, it takes you a few minutes to peel yourself away from Caitlin, so I thought I had more time.” I grimaced at his words, realizing that I had yet to tell him we had broken up.
I still wasn’t exactly sure who ended it with whom, just that it was over, and I didn’t seem to care much about it at all. Which only made me an asshole.
“That ended a few weeks ago,” I told him, and his eyes all but bugged out of his skull. “What?” he asked, and motioned at Johnny to get him one of whatever I was having.
“Yeah, it was for the best,” I told him, intentionally keeping it vague.
“I can’t say I’m surprised, but I figured it would take you a little bit longer. I should have known after Megan’s soft opening that it was only a matter of time.” Johnny chose that moment to drop off the beer Lake had ordered, and he sucked half of it down before I could ask what he meant.
“What are you talking about?”
“Rosie,” he said cautiously, like he was scared of spooking me.
“Yeah. What about her?”
“You’re joking right?” he asks, finishing the rest of his pint in two gulps and signaling for another. “We’re going to need these for this conversation.”
“What conversation? What’s going on with Rosie?” I felt panic start to build.
“Nothing’s going on with Rosie, you dumbass. Well, I mean, maybe something is. I don’t keep tabs on her like that. I mean the fact that you’re in love with her.”
I spit my beer all over the table.
“Jesus Christ, dude, pull yourself together,” Lake said as he started to grab some of those cocktail napkins that sat in containers on the bar to clean up my mess. I just sat there frozen, mulling over his words. In love with Rosie.
“That’s not…”
“Not what?”
I wanted to say possible, but it was possible. In fact, I thought it was not only possible, but also true. The realization played like an old film, slide by slide.
Rosie on Sundays.
Rosie laughing over Megan’s failed food.
Rosie. Just Rosie.
Perfect.
Why I’ve been feeling so out of sorts as of late. My mind was catching up to my reality. The reality that I was in love with Rosie.
“There it is.” Lake clapped his hand on my back, and I sputtered.
“I don’t…I can’t…” Oh, god, I am. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I hollered at him.
“Me? It’s been so long that I had almost convinced myself you weren’t, but then I saw you the other night. I saw your face when I arrived with her, when you thought we were hooking up.”
“I didn’t…” I started to cut him off to tell him I didn’t think they were hooking up, but Lake shot me a glare.
“Yes, you did. And it confirmed what I’ve known all along.
I thought you would figure it out by now, but alas, I cannot in good faith not tell you what a moron you’re being.
You needed a push, or someone to remove the blinders. ”
“She smells like coconut and vanilla,” I blurted out, and he looked at me like I’d officially lost it. Maybe I have.
“That’s uh, nice, I think.”
“Those are my favorite things. She smells like my favorite things.”
“Oh, we’re still in the realization part of this. Okay.” He moved back to his beer and flagged Johnny down to put in an order of wings. I was barely able to get out that I’d have whatever he was having.
I barely tasted the food or the beer as it came.
I stayed in a place of awareness, lost in memories of all nighters from college, inside jokes, dinners.
Why didn’t I realize it before? Probably because I had convinced myself that it was wrong of me to think of her sexually since we were so close.
Or maybe it was me trying to ignore how I felt about her.
“I gotta get out of here,” I told Lake.
“Yeah, you do.” He whooped in agreement.
I was done giving her space. I was going to Rosie’s.