15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wes
T he sound of running water wakes me up. My eyes blink away the sleep, and it all comes back. Joss passing out in the hallway. Helping her to bed and taking care of her. Sleeping with her hand in mine. Holding her while she cried. I fell asleep with her in my arms, and it was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time. Probably since the crash. I didn’t dream, and there were no nightmares.
She’s not in my arms now though, and I can hear her humming softly in the bathroom. It’s a stark reminder that I also have needs. I wouldn’t hesitate to stay in this exact spot all day if I didn’t, but I make my way to the half bath in the hallway.
Will Joss feel up to eating? What about coffee? I desperately need both. Finding a pad of paper on the kitchen counter, I leave a note for her.
Grabbing my wallet and phone, I head out the door and down the elevator. There’s a text from Breck in response to the one I sent him late last night telling him to count us out for dawn patrol.
Breck
No worries, mate. You missed an epic sunrise. How is she feeling this morning?
There’s a picture of the sun coming up over the horizon that I’ll have to show Joss later. I’m glad he went without us; he needs that time as much as I do, and he doesn’t get to do it nearly as often.
Me
Better, I think. Headed out for coffee and breakfast.
I pass Frank, who takes in my appearance with an appraising look. I’m suddenly aware that I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes, and that they look significantly more rumpled now.
“How’s our girl this morning?” Frank asks.
Besides yesterday, when his focus was on Joss and words were necessary, this is the most he’s said to me since I moved in. I smile at the way he calls her “our girl,” as if I have some claim over her. Hope rises in my chest at the notion.
“Better. I’m headed for breakfast. Want anything, Frank?” Maybe a pastry is the way to this man’s heart, or maybe it was just taking care of our girl , because he gives me what looks almost like a smile and asks for black coffee.
The brisk temperature as I walk to Harbour Grounds invigorates my brain. Which is good, because it’s lagging this morning. Maybe the coffee on the other side of this glass door will bring me the answer to the question rolling around up there.
How on earth am I supposed to separate last night from the friendship Joss and I are building?
It’s only been a month, but I’ve grown closer to her than almost anyone else in my life. I don’t let myself think about the disaster that was my last romantic relationship, and the easiest friendship I’ve ever had is also something I can’t think about right now. Not without spiraling about the crash. Being around Joss though, talking to her… It’s as effortless as breathing. There’s a familiarity as if we’ve been friends for years, not weeks.
I pull open the door to Harbour Grounds, and the warm smell of coffee and sugar hits me. I relax a little further. That is, until I hear my name screeched from behind the counter and realize my mistake.
“Wes! Have you heard from Joss? She never texted me after her trip. Did her flight get canceled?” The panic in Jaz’s voice is evident as she bolts from around the counter, ignoring the customers waiting to order.
I completely forgot about our dinner plans last night, and Joss must’ve too. I rake a hand through my messy hair, blow out a breath, and start explaining .
“She’s fine. Breathe, Jaz.” I keep my voice calm in an attempt to soothe her worry. She stops just short of me. “She’s home and she’s safe, I promise. She’s really sick though—”
“How sick?” Jaz cuts me off. “She never gets sick. You’re sure she’s okay, have you checked on her this morning? Why didn’t she call me? I would have gone over to her apartment.” Jaz shoots off rapid-fire questions like nobody’s business.
“She’s okay,” I say when her eyes fill with tears. I reach out, placing a hand on each of Jaz’s shoulders. I need her to calm down before I end up with another unconscious woman in my care. “I was there when she came home. She’s caught a nasty cold. This last trip really wrung her out and she was dehydrated.” I clear my throat, unsure of how much to tell her. I don’t want to freak her out, but she deserves to know.
“She was barely conscious, Jaz.” I have to turn my face away to hide the emotion behind the words. Her intake of breath tells me that is not what she wanted to hear, but the words just keep flowing. “It was really scary, if I’m being honest. I’m sorry I didn’t think to call you, it all just happened so fast. She was getting in the bath when I left to come get breakfast, so she has to be doing better. She slept hard, probably needed it after four days of travel.” I’m rambling, and I know I’m trying to convince the both of us that Joss really is okay.
“Wait. Were you with her? All night?” She’s eyeing me now, a little warily and a lot shocked. I don’t blame her; she doesn’t know me very well. Last night was supposed to change that.
“Yeah.” I give her a shrug and run my hand through my hair again. I’m uncomfortable with her scrutiny, but I’m also glad Joss has someone so protective in her corner. “I didn’t want to leave her alone. She asked me to stay. I was watching out for her—that’s all.”
Her lips are pursed as she takes me in from head to toe, likely readjusting her understanding of why I look like a rumpled sheet. The next thing I know, she launches herself into my arms and is hugging me, hard. Damn, this chick is strong.
“Thank you for taking care of her. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“She’s okay, really. I should probably get that coffee and some food so I can get back, yeah?” I pull back, still gripping her shoulders. “I’ll have her text you, okay?”
She nods and presses the backs of her hands against her flushed cheeks.
“Okay. I’ll get your order together while Gunther mans the register. I know what Joss will want, what else?”
“Two black coffees, a bagel with cream cheese, and a croissant.”
Jaz hurries back behind the counter and whispers something to the other barista. He looks a little put out but doesn’t say anything. Joss told me that Jaz is part-owner, so it’s not like he’s going to tell the boss no.
She’s back in front of me with a drink carrier and a bag of pastries in no time at all. I reach for my wallet, but she stops me with a hand on my forearm.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me. As a thank-you for taking care of Joss last night.”
I dip my head in thanks and smile warmly.
Back at my building, I stop by Frank’s desk and offer him the black coffee and the croissant; he refuses the latter but is almost effusive with gratitude for the former. I mean, he even gave me a full smile, or at least what I assume is the biggest smile he has, and tipped his hat at me. Progress.
The elevator ride feels extra slow. I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet, nervous energy radiating off me in waves. I just need to see her, know she’s alright. I rush out of the elevator and straight to her apartment, not giving mine a second glance.
I don’t even bother to knock, striding into the kitchen to set down the coffee and food.
“Joss, I’m back. You doing okay?” I call out.
It’s quiet and my heartrate picks up, what if she passed out in the bath?
“Joss?!”
I walk straight back to her room and hear quiet music coming through the door.
Take a breath, Wes.
My knock is gentle but my voice is firm when I say her name again. It’s loud enough she should be able to hear it over the music. There’s a little slosh of water before she responds.
“Wes?”
My head falls forward on the wood with a thump.
She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay.
“I’ve got coffee and breakfast out here if you feel up to it,” I say, doing my best to refrain from thinking of Joss, naked, on the other side of the door.
“Mmm. Coffee sounds amazing. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Hell. That little moaning sound is definitely not helping me keep my thoughts platonic. My hands tighten on the door frame until my knuckles turn white. The effect she has on me is electric. I push myself back from the door before I do something stupid.
Coffee. I need coffee.