I bite the inside of my cheek, considering his invitation. “Wes, I don’t know…”
His eyes are open and earnest on mine. “Please, Ivy. Please come. Just for a little while. It would mean a lot.”
His admission stirs something in my chest, and before I can think it through, I find myself nodding. “Okay,” I tell him. “Okay, I’ll go.”
Those words are the key, and I finally unlock that dazzling smile, dimples and all. My chest pangs, and I’d give anything for him to wrap me in his arms and tell me that it’s all okay—thatwe’reokay.
“Excellent,” he says through his grin. “Find me tonight, okay?”
“I will.”
I don’t get a hug, but he does reach out to squeeze my hand before he turns away. As he gets pulled into the shuffle of guyswaiting to commend him, I frown down at my palm, the skin still tingling from the warmth of his fingers.
Despite how desperate I’ve been to reconnect with him, I don’t allow myself to get excited by his invitation. Deborah’s words pop into my head, rooting me in the reality of our situation.
Is there a chance you might mend things?
How would you feel now about telling him the truth about his friend?
Do you truly think he’d accuse you of lying about something so serious?
Her questions circle my mind for the rest of the night. I pick them apart from every angle, searching for an easy way out, even though deep down I know the truth—Wes and I can’t move forward until I’m honest with him. Only then will I find out if I’ve lost him once and for all. Only then will I find out if we have any sort of future.
I’m just not sure I’m ready for the answer.
THIRTY-SIX
It feelssurreal to be standing in the line of students waiting to be admitted into Wes’s house. Arms crossed over my chest, I keep expecting people to recognize me as the girl from the forum or the girl who used to be Wes Tucker’s almost-girlfriend. I wait for them to point and laugh and wonder,what is she doing on the outside? How did she screw things up so fast?They don’t, of course, too concerned with their own lives to notice me.
Slowly, I inch forward. I know I could probably text Wes to come outside and get me, but I don’t want to burden him. It’s his night. His party. His last hurrah at college. If he still wants to talk, we’ll talk, but I wouldn’t blame him if he’s changed his mind.
I really hope he didn’t, though.
Twenty minutes pass before I make it to the steps, and Kaden shoots me a look of pure disbelief. “Ivy, why are you waiting in this fucking line?” I shrug as he shoos away the girls in front of me and ushers me forward. “Jesus, get in there. Last I saw Wes he was on the back deck.”
I give Wes’s housemate a small smile. “Thanks, Kaden.”
“I’m glad you came,” he says earnestly. “Now, get out of here and go find Doc.”
I nod and step inside, hesitating in the entryway. I’ve been in this house a million times, and yet, I’m filled with uncertainty, wondering if maybe I imagined Wes’s invitation. Conjured it up in my head somehow.
I scan the faces for one that’s familiar, pausing when I spot Audrey in the kitchen. She’s leaning against the counter, a red Solo cup clutched in her hand, and I gravitate toward her.
The moment she recognizes me, she gives a warm smile, and I find myself smiling back, struck again by her resemblance to her brother. “Oh, good, someone I know,” she says, her shoulders sagging in relief. “Hi again, Ivy.”
“Hi,” I say, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden. I shift on my feet. Pick at my nails. “I didn’t, um, realize you’d be here.”
“I thought what the hell. When in Rome, right? Though it’s been a minute since I’ve been to a college party.” She raises her eyebrows at a group of guys playing flip cup in the living room. “There’s a lot more testosterone than I remember.”
“Yeah, that’s a fair criticism,” I say seriously, and she laughs. I gesture at the cup in her hand. “What are you drinking?”
She wrinkles her nose. “A vodka soda. I’d offer to make you one, but it sucks. I’d kill for some Sauvignon Blanc right now.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think the guys keep white wine in stock.”
She snorts. “Yeah, I figured. I’d ask you to put in a good word, but I guess it doesn’t matter now that he’s graduating.”
“That,” I say. “Plus my word doesn’t mean much anymore.”
