“I got your back, man.”
As we fell into easier conversation, I found myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, this auction would be the push West and I needed to finally take that leap.
By the time I went home, I was starting to look forward to the big event tomorrow instead of dreading it.
I pushed open the front door, the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee inviting me in. Typical. West was in full-on preparation mode.
“I’m home!” I called out. No response. I kicked off my shoes and padded toward the living room, following the trail of papers strewn across the floor.
There he was. Weston Hart in all his glory. Surrounded by a sea of donor lists, to-do lists, and lists of to-do lists, his curly brown hair sticking up in all directions as he hunched over his laptop. I smiled. He looked like a mad scientist—if mad scientists wore fadedStar WarsT-shirts and had biceps that could crush walnuts.
“Earth to West,” I said, waving a hand in front of his face. “The mothership is trying to make contact.”
He blinked, his hazel eyes finally focusing on me. “Drew! When did you get here?”
“Oh, about a decade ago. I’ve aged considerably waiting for you to notice me.”
West grinned, running a hand through his hair—a gesture that never failed to make my heart do a little flip. “Sorry, I got caught up in the numbers. Did you know if we hit our target for the fundraiser, we can hire enough staffing to get the center running at one hundred percent capacity six months earlier than we expected? And that’s my conservative estimate. I don’t even want to think about the donations Noah’s mother-in-law can help us get from her friends.”
Noah was Adam’s older brother and one of our original Foundation volunteers. He’d been giving up his weekend free time to play basketball with us and a group of teenagers we mentored. Thanks to him and his new husband Lior, we’d gotten the lease on the old Cliffborough hospital buildingandNoah and his brothers had the idea for the fundraiser.
I plopped next to West, careful not to disturb his meticulous chaos. “That’s amazing, West. Though I’m pretty sure you could auction off a used tissue and people would still throw money at you.”
He laughed, nudging my shoulder. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Carter. But seriously, this could be huge for the Foundation. We could expand our mentorship program. Maybe even start that summer camp we’ve been dreaming about.”
I watched him, marveling at the passion in his voice, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about helping kids. Moments like these made me fall for him all over again.
“Well,” I said, picking up a nearby piece of paper with scribbles I couldn’t make out, “if anyone can pull this off, it’s you. Just don’t forget to breathe, okay? I don’t want to find you passed out in a pile of spreadsheets tomorrow morning.”
West’s expression softened. “Thanks, Drew. I don’t know what I’d do without you keeping me sane through all this.”
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to say something I shouldn’t…not yet. Instead, I opted for, “Probably forget to eat and turn into a caffeine-powered auction robot.”
He chuckled, then glanced at his watch. “Speaking of eating, want to order in? I could use a break, and I haven’t seen you much lately.”
My heart did another of those annoying flips. “Chinese? I’m craving those dumplings from the new place that opened down the road.”
“Read my mind.” West grinned, reaching for his phone.
As he dialed, I found myself lost in thought, River’s words from earlier echoing in my head. But the fear that West didn’t feel the same way and would get grossed out by my advances had an iron grip around my chest.
As West placed our order, I studied his profile. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the slight quirk of his lips as he recited our favorites—it all felt so achingly familiar. I wondered what it would be like to trace that jawline with my fingertips, to feel the stubble against my skin.
“Hellooo…” West’s voice snapped me back to reality. “You okay there? You looked a million miles away.”
I cleared my throat, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Yeah, just…thinking about tomorrow. You know, the auction and all.”
His expression shifted, concern flooding his features. “Having second thoughts? It’s okay if you are, you know. We can always find someone else to?—”
“No, no,” I interrupted. “It’s not that. Well, not entirely.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I guess I’m just nervous about being on display. What if no one bids? Or worse, what if someone does, and I have to spend an evening making awkward small talk with a stranger?”
West’s eyes softened, and he moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine. “Drew, you’re going to be great. People would be lucky to spend time with you. And if you’re really uncomfortable, we can always have a safeword or something. You say ‘pineapple,’ and I’ll swoop in with some made-up emergency.”
I laughed. “Pineapple? Really?”
“Hey, it’s memorable.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder gently before letting go. I immediately missed the contact. “But seriously, Drew. You’re doing an amazing thing for the Foundation. These kids need us, and your contribution could make a real difference.”
I nodded, feeling a mix of warmth at his words and a lingering anxiety about the auction. “I know, I know. It’s for a good cause. I just…I guess I’m not used to putting myself out there like that, you know?”
