Page 93 of Necessary Time


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I supposed that just over a month was new, but I would have liked to have a picture of us together. If not to share with Henry, just for me to look at when I wanted a reminder of how lucky I was. I’d have to find a way to take one with him at the party, hopefully before Hendrix and Miles got there, or maybe after. I, of course, hoped I’d be able to spend the night with him, but neither of us was planning on it.

Henry: Send me one when you get one. I’m stoked for you, man. How’s work?

And that was it.

It had been that easy, and I couldn’t help but be angry at how different the response from my parents had been. My call log still sat absent of their name. No texts from my mom. Nothing.

I exchanged a few more messages with Henry, but by then it was time for me to head over to Wesley’s house. I wasn’t going to bring his present over because it was something I knew he wouldn’t want to share in front of other people. It would be perfectly fine for him to open it next time he came over to my house.

The drive to his and Grayson’s apartment took an eternity and crossing the street from the curb parking to the lobby of the building had me checking to see if my feet had somehow been turned to lead. There was absolutely no reason for me to carry such a feeling of dread about the party. A couple of hours, there’d be so many people and so much noise, I’d be distracted, not even worrying about our lie.

The front door to the apartment was open when I got there, and a handful of people I recognized from the housewarming were already there. Grayson waved at me over their heads, gesturing toward Wesley’s bedroom. I gave a quick scan of the room to ensure Hendrix wasn’t there yet and headed down.

Wesley’s bedroom door was cracked open and he was half bent over, braced against his dresser, a condensated beer bottle beside his hand.

“Happy birthday,” I said softly, closing his bedroom door behind me.

At the sound of my voice, he jerked up, previously worried expression morphing into a big, if not a little buzzed, smile.

“It is now.”

Wesley closed the space between us, rising up onto his toes to press a kiss against my lips. He tasted like hops and barley, a little bit of orange. It was a flavor I was used to in my own mouth, but it would take some adjusting to in his.

“Why are you in here hiding?”

“Not hiding.” He kissed me again. “I was just waiting for you.”

“We can’t stay in here all night,” I reminded him. “Your brother is going to be here soon.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

I slid my arms around his waist and pulled our hips together. He arched his back so he could look up at me.

“What about him?” I asked.

“I know we agreed to wait—”

I shook my head, cutting him off. “Wesley, we talked about this.”

“You wanted to make sure I was ready. I’m ready,” he said, looking as stubborn as any twenty-one year-old ever had.

“You weren’t ready last night.”

“Youweren’t.”

I let out a breath, wishing I had a beer to drink to get through the rest of this conversation.

“It’s going to keep coming up,” Wesley said, sounding rehearsed. I wondered if he’d talked through his whole case with Grayson before my arrival. I could picture them slicing cheese and pepperoni while role-playing the two of us. “You can’t seriously tell me that you’re happy to be here and not be able to do this.”

He kissed me again, rougher, with more focus and intent than his greeting kiss had allowed. Wesley walked me back against the door, the heat between his legs growing hard and hot against my thigh.

“I don’t think we should do that in public in any case,” I murmured against his lips, letting my hands slide down to his ass.

“You get the point.”

“You’ve been drinking.” I sighed, giving his ass a squeeze and then letting him go.

“I’m not drunk.”