Chapter 15 #2
“Oh, I won’t. Carry on,” she says, waving her hand at me.
“Okay, the worst part is that she denied it and, like the dumbest sixteen-year-old on the planet, I believed her. Despite the fact that half the town saw it. I told Jesse he got it wrong, told my friends they were crazy. I actually went out and got her flowers because I felt so bad about the rumors. And then two weeks later, I walked into a party and found her sitting on the guy’s lap with her tongue down his throat. ”
Lottie winces dramatically. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s brutal.”
I shrug one shoulder, though even now I can still remember the feeling. The embarrassment. The anger. The way everybody at school looked at me like I was an idiot who couldn’t see what was happening right in front of him.
“She cried,” I add.
Lottie blinks. “The girl who cheated?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why was she crying?”
“She said I embarrassed her by breaking up with her.”
For a second there’s silence, then Lottie bursts into laughter so suddenly she nearly spills her wine. “So, you dated a psychopath.”
“Basically.”
She’s still smiling, leaning against the counter now, cheeks flushed from the wine and maybe just from being happy. Then she looks at me and her expression softens. “Did you love her?”
I look down into the glass in my hand. “I think I mostly just loved being loved by somebody.”
Lottie stills.
“My mom had only been gone six years at that point,” I continue. “Everything had felt really hard since then. So, when somebody looked at me like I mattered to them, I probably held onto it harder than I should’ve.”
“Oh, Wes,” she says, pain flickering behind her eyes. “I’m really sorry. Ten is too young to lose your mom.”
I nod. “It is.”
How did this conversation get so deep? I should be keeping things light, fun. Maybe it’s the way she’s looking at me. Maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time in a long time I haven’t felt completely trapped inside my own head. The truth keeps slipping out before I can stop it.
“I think part of me got so used to holding everything together after my mom died that I don’t really know how to stop doing it now.
” There it is again. The truth. I let out a quiet breath, rubbing my thumb along the rim of the glass.
“I’ve gotten really good at just handling things—my dad, my brothers, and eventually, Cove.
I’m probably not so good at stopping to actually feel things. ”
Lottie’s expression softens, her gaze lingering on me like she’s trying to figure out what to say without pushing too hard.
“My family’s kind of the opposite,” she says.
“I’m still really close to my parents. But they were always really…
worried. Really concerned about me. I guess old habits die hard, because my mom still calls Harper and me almost every day. ”
“That sounds nice.”
“It is nice,” she agrees immediately. “It can also be kind of exhausting. Last week she reminded me to wear warm socks because it looked cold outside.”
A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it—a real one, deep and genuine. Lottie’s eyes widen triumphantly.
“There it is,” she says. “I made you laugh.”
“You’re getting good at it, Lottie.”
“Well, now I feel special.” Lottie tips back another sip of her wine. “You know, you’re very different than I thought you’d be.”
“Yeah?”
She nods slowly. “I thought you were going to be intimidating and emotionally unavailable.”
I lift a brow. “And now?”
A smile tugs at her mouth. “I still think you’re intimidating, but now I know you have a fun side to you.”
“Careful,” I murmur. “That almost sounded like affection.”
She rolls her eyes lightly, but she’s still smiling when she says, “Don’t flatter yourself, pilot.”
“Little late for that, don’t you think? You already admitted you were staring at me shirtless.”
I reach for her before I can think better of it, my fingers catching loosely around her wrist. Her breath hitches softly and her eyes—those emerald eyes— go wide when my thumb traces the inside of her wrist. She leans toward me then, her lips parting just enough that the tip of her tongue catches against her bottom lip.
I inhale the scent of her—peaches and sugar.
My eyes drop down to her mouth before I can stop them, and a dangerous thought slides through my head: I wonder if she tastes as sweet as she smells.
“When did I admit that?” she asks.
I lean a little closer and bring her wrist up slowly to my mouth. My thumb brushes over the diamond wedding band, and Lottie’s gaze fixes on it for a beat before she pulls in a quiet breath. I nip at the sensitive skin with my teeth. Lottie’s eyes are blown even wider in surprise.
“Pretty sure it was written all over your face.”
Lottie lets out a breathy laugh. “I blame the wine.”
I drop her hand with a grin and grab the bottle, topping off both our glasses. “Mm-hmm,” I say knowingly. “Sure.”
Lottie laughs.
“Your midnight therapy wine is going to get us into a lot of trouble.”
She bites back a smile, then lightly taps her glass against mine. “See? I told you it was fun.”