Chapter 54
NOVA
“Imissed your birthday,” I said to Wes as we listened to music on my couch. It had been two weeks since the Winter Wonderland party from hell.
Inara, rudely, had taken up residence in Wes’s lap, essentially making me the third wheel. Wes currently pet the calico with one hand and me with the other, his fingers raking through my hair as I gazed at him.
He nodded. “You also missed Thanksgiving.”
I flashed back to how I spent Thanksgiving and immediately shuddered.
“Wasn’t a fun holiday for me either,” Wes said softly. “I have much higher hopes for Christmas.”
Every so often, Wes’s gaze lingered on my shoulder, where a reddish-pink scar cut across my skin. The official story broke a few days after the incident. Roman had died in a boating accident. It was a fabrication that wouldn’t ruffle shareholder feathers, a clean cover-up and an open-and-shut-case.
“As far as getting shot with a gun goes,” I said, “I’d say that was the best experience I could’ve asked for.”
Wes rolled his eyes. “Too soon, Nova.”
“You’re not the one who got shot with a gun,” I said indignantly. “I’m allowed to joke.”
“Are you, now?” Wes asked, a dark edge in his voice. “Last time I checked, you weren’t the arbiter of what you are and are not allowed to do.” His fingers skimmed my cheek before gripping my chin. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
I nodded slowly, warmth pooling in my stomach. He so easily put me into a trance, a headspace I never wanted to leave.
My email pinged. I reached for my phone immediately.
Alas, I may have been Wes’s sub, but I also had other roles to play in this world. And Wes encouraged me to take up as much space and power as possible outside of our dynamic.
“Is it from her?” he asked, his demeanor shifting instantly from Dom mode to boyfriend mode.
I nodded, scanning the email as my smile grew and tears welled in my eyes. “She finished it. She loved it.”
I read and re-read the long, thoughtful email from my alpha reader.
She’d already sent me a few updates, apologizing again for taking a while to start reading.
Every update had been glowing. While she left suggestions throughout the document for plot points to clarify or improve, her overall assessment was wildly enthusiastic and encouraging.
My body let go of a long, soothing exhale. Wes gently lifted Inara off his lap to pull me there in her place. She trilled and hopped down from the couch in protest.
He beamed at me. “I told you, Nova. This is it. This is the one. Enjoy it, baby.”
I’d finally allowed Wes to read my allegorical version of our love story, played out by different characters with different aims and characteristics. The soul of the plot was the same, though, a parallel of the story Wes and I had written together.
“It’s not like I didn’t believe you…” I said as he held my face in his hands. “But you’re biased. And also not my target audience.”
“I read romance,” Wes defended, kissing my forehead. “But I understand. Soon, you’re going to have more proof than you know what to do with. Have you decided which publishing path you’re taking?”
I shook my head. “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m leaning toward a fully indie launch.
I don’t want to wait. This needs to come out as soon as possible, and I…
” I felt a surge of confidence flood my system that was foreign to me.
After all these years of striving and working and reaching for a dream that always felt out of reach, I could see it now.
Taste it, feel it somewhere deep inside me.
“I believe in this book, more than I’ve ever believed in a book before. ”
“As you should,” Wes said. “You’re going to make the right call, no matter what you decide. I’m here to help with whatever you need.”
“You’ve already done more than enough,” I whispered, tracing his jaw with my fingers.
Wes had insisted he pay for Lorelei to go to a residential treatment center to detox under medical supervision and receive specialized trauma therapy. After he’d made sure she wanted to do this of her own accord, he took a bet on her without a second thought.
I already loved Wes, but seeing how he took care of the people I loved with the same care and selflessness as he took care of me amplified that feeling to a dizzying degree.
Before he could respond, Hudson and Delilah arrived back from the grocery store.
“Delilah,” Hudson snapped, “you cannot go with Goose to Ibiza. It’s out of the question. Spiritual retreat is Bushwick code for psychedelics, house music, and polyamory.”
Wes and I laughed.
“Oh, yay, Wes!” Delilah exclaimed when she entered the space, grocery bags in hand. “You’re staying for game night?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He met my eyes again. “Tell them about the news.”
I told them about the alpha reader’s email, and Hudson stopped chastising Delilah about Goose to celebrate with me. We popped one of the bottles of non-alcoholic champagne we’d obtained for tonight as Hudson started food prep.
“Don’t worry, I prevented her from inviting Goose and his entire intentional co-living community,” Hudson whispered to me while Delilah chatted with Wes about her new job and dreamy boss.
I snorted. “Thank you for your service.”
He saluted. “You okay, Noves?” He glanced at the raised scar on my shoulder. It was hard to miss.
My response was genuine, easy. “Yeah, I really am.” I smiled.
What we’d gone through was traumatic, and I knew Wes was still grappling with having taken a life, even if he’d had no choice. We were all still struggling with what had happened—and what had almost happened.
But in the vein of Memento Mori, confronting death had only illuminated all the love in my life—for my friends new and old, for Wes, for my city and my neighborhood and random, kind interactions with strangers. I no longer saw the world the same way I did at the beginning of the summer.
I’d experienced a sudden freedom, a release from all fear.
By the end of game night, my face hurt from smiling.
And Wes had rarely taken his eyes or hands off me. The way he looked at me was enough to wipe my mind of all thoughts but him. It was an intensity and adoration I could drown in forever.
Three days before Christmas, Wes had his arm around me protectively in a coffee shop in Chelsea. Jayne took a seat across from us, a mug in hand that matched the deep red of her fingernails.
“Thank you for meeting me. I can imagine it wasn’t an easy decision,” she began.
Her cult leader magnetism was on a dimmer voltage than usual, as if our brush with death had humbled her.
She cleared her throat. “I wanted to see how you both were doing, and to apologize again, for everything that happened within The Circle.”
I sighed. Wes didn’t speak.
I’d softened my view of Jayne since she saved my life, but she was still a complicated person who had made dangerously flawed decisions. I had a feeling she was hiding Archer’s role in all this more than she would ever admit. When she’d asked if Archer could join, we had unanimously declined.
“When we were approached by an anonymous investor with suitcases full of cash, we were running small spiritual and erotic gatherings out of our own apartment and a smaller venue we could barely afford to rent,” Jayne said.
“I thought I—we—had been recognized for our potential, and we were being given an opportunity to play our small part in healing the world.” She paused, staring out the window at the rainy streets adorned with Christmas lights.
“We will be conducting a thorough internal investigation to flush out any lingering poison from our community.”
Wes and I exchanged wry smiles. We’d predicted this outcome. Jayne’s position, and likely the story she truly believed, was that her community had been hijacked by Roman.
But people as intelligent as Jayne and as cunning as Archer had to have known the deal they’d made with the devil.
“The Circle will go on,” I murmured.
Jayne straightened, a flash of defensiveness breaking through her humble facade.
“Of course. You heard Mr. Graves. He has removed himself. And Roman…” She glanced at Wes before she cleared her throat and averted her eyes.
“He seems to have taken a nasty fall. The Circle is financially self-sustaining now.” She leaned back in her chair, skin luminous as it caught the warm light from above.
“The world is a broken place. We have more work to do.”
We both stared at her. I couldn’t say I was surprised by any of this information, but before I could sink too deeply into fear or anger, I remembered this was no longer my side of the street.
Wes, Lorelei, and I were safe.
“We will not trouble either of you again. But if you or Lorelei ever need anything, as a friend, I will always be here,” Jayne said. She smiled tentatively. “Now, please tell me how you both have been doing. With the book too.”
Wes didn’t speak. I could feel his Scorpio intensity like a thick weight hanging in the air. But at the mention of my book, he managed to break through his violent protectiveness with a soft kiss to my temple.
“We’re doing well,” I answered for both of us, refusing to elaborate more than necessary. “And the book is with a freelance editor.” I left out the part about how those editing services had left my bank account in the double digits until I got paid at the end of the month.
“Are you querying?” Jayne asked. “Don’t worry, I know I overstepped there too. I’m asking because I care, not because I want to interfere.”
I eyed her warily for a few beats. “I’m still deciding,” I admitted. “But I know where I’m leaning.”
“You should publish it yourself,” Jayne said, surprising me.
Wes cocked his head slightly.
“You know what you’re doing. Don’t wait for institutional approval.
” Jayne straightened, her amber, nearly-golden eyes staring deep inside me.
“Let them come to you after you already have leverage, and then you can decide if their offers are worth it or not. Build your dreams yourself, Nova. And then protect the world you’ve created from anything and anyone who might stand to hijack it. ”
Her fierceness fanned the flames of a feeling I’d been cultivating since I survived Roman.
Wes watched me carefully when he finally spoke. “For once, I actually agree with you, Jayne.” His half-smile made my stomach flutter. “And I think Nova does too.”
I glanced down at Wes’s hand as it reached for mine. I’d spent so many years searching for praise, approval, and validation. I needed to know I’d done everything right—that I hadn’t been a selfish, evil person for bringing Lorelei with me to New York City to chase my dreams.
But now, I saw that the voice in my head telling me I was never good enough hadn’t belonged to me in the first place.
I didn’t need to be chosen.
I wasn’t in a small religious cult in Tennessee anymore.
I was here, with Wes. My worth was inherent; it didn’t need to be earned. And Wes would remind me of that each time I forgot it again.
My hand squeezed his. “I better get to work.”
Wes stood, as if that was all he needed to hear to leave this meeting he’d never wanted to attend in the first place.
Jayne smiled. “I look forward to seeing you burn, Nova.”
She winked, and I thought of the first time she’d referenced my name and its cosmic, starry meaning. It was the day I’d met Wes.
I stood and intertwined my fingers with his. “Stay safe, Jayne.”