I stare at my reflection as he turns on the water, wondering how I managed to smear blood across my cheek and chin and neck and shirt. Before I can overthink my actions, I pull my top over my head, slip off my shoes, and strip down my jeans, kicking them into the corner. Wes is watching me with a frown, still dressed, almost like he’s waiting for me to realize that I’m standing here in front of him in nothing but my bra and underwear. Almost like he’s waiting for the freak out to commence.
It doesn’t, though. I don’t care if he sees my body right now. I only want to be close to him.
He’s still frozen as I unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers and push it free of his broad shoulders. Like a switch flips, he suddenly spurs into action, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. He pushes the slacks down his legs and steps out of them before removing his socks, and then we’re both in our underwear.
We step into the shower and stand beneath the hot water. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his naked chest, holding him close as the water streams down over our bodies. His lips press against my head as his good hand strokes down my back in a soothing rhythm that has my eyes fluttering shut. Between that and the warm water, my muscles start to relax. My breathing steadies.
“Wes,” I whisper, after a while.
His mouth is still pressed to my hair. “Hmm?”
“Thank you. For believing me.”
His strong arms tighten around me. “It would be impossible not to, Ivy.”
I raise my head to look up at him. His eyes swim with emotion and mine respond by filling with tears, only this time, they’re tears of relief. His hands move up to cradle my face, and he plants a soft kiss on my forehead. He’s looking at me in a way that makes my heart expand, despite the chaos of the last few hours. He whispers, “I fucking missed you.”
I whisper back, “I fucking missed you, too.”
We stay in the shower until the mirror steams and our fingers prune. Then, Wes wraps me in a towel and finds the “pajamas” I’ve worn before. He lets me change in the bathroom while he does the same in the bedroom, and then we crawl into his bed. Even though there are voices outside and a party downstairs, we lie together with opposite cheeks pressed against the samepillow. Even though Wes’s phone is blowing up with texts and calls and people wondering where he went, we stay there, holding each other. We take comfort in each other’s presence, the simple act of being there.
Because even if we’re both wrecked, at least we’re wrecked together.
I wake abruptlyto find us knotted together. Legs interlocked, arms entwined, I’m encased in the heat of Wes’s body and cocooned by the weight of it.
And yet, I’m still not close enough.
I don’t think I’ll ever be close enough, not after being apart from him.
“Hi,” he whispers into the dark. My eyes snap up to meet his. With my head on his chest, I couldn’t tell he was awake.
I pull back to get a better look at his expression. “Hi. How long have you been up?”
“A while. I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep.” He gazes at me in the dim light, his eyes charting across my face, and when he brushes my hair back behind my ear, my heart stumbles over a beat. I missed this. I missedhim.“I’ve been thinking about things,” he says softly.
“What things?”
“Signs I missed. Shit I overlooked. Ace—” he cuts himself off, looking horrified that he used Mason’s nickname. His hand falls away from my face. “Masondid some fucked up things over the years. Things I was too quick to forgive or write off.”
I frown at the strain in his voice. “It’s okay, Wes.”
His jaw flexes like he’s clenching his teeth together. “It’s not. It’s not okay. I don’t know why I always look for the best in people when they don’t fucking deserve it.”
“Because you’re you. You’re a good person.”
He shakes his head. “I sugarcoat shit. Let people get away with things. I don’t set boundaries, but your friends are there to hold you accountable, you know? Who else is going to tell you if your moral compass is fucked except for them? Who else is going to call you out if something’s unacceptable?” His eyes avert to the ceiling as his mouth twitches down. “I feel like there were so many times over the years I could have said something. Done something. And maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have…maybe you wouldn’t have had to endure what you did.”
“Wes,” I say quietly. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“He was one of my closest friends, Ivy. It was myjobto say something.”
Reaching out, I touch his cheek, stroking my fingers over the dark stubble at his jaw. His eyes are still trained on the ceiling. He still won’t look at me. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as his eyes meet mine. They’re pained, and my heart squeezes. “I’ve been thinking back on spring break. Some of your actions make complete sense now. At the time, I just thought you were nervous being around all those people. But now…now I see.” His brows pinch together. “You must have thought I was a monster for being friends with him and inviting him on that trip. I can’t believe I put you through that.”
“I was upset, but not at you. I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.”
His eyes flare with protectiveness. “Never. I never want to hurt you.”
