He nods sympathetically. “Did you guys ever watchThe Two Towersthat night?”
It takes a moment for me to realize that he’s talking about the night of his birthday party, when Quinn and I told him we were going home. “No, we ended up going straight to bed.”
He seems to debate his next words. “Would you want to watch it?”
I blink at him. “Aren’t your roommates watching something?”
“Nah, they went to their rooms.”
I shift my weight, fighting the urge to collapse on his bed. “Are you sure? I don’t want to disrupt your night. Well, more than I already have.” I gesture to the open laptop on his desk, books and papers sprawled about beside it. His giant thermos sits off to the left, and I’d bet money it’s filled with coffee despite the late hour. “It looks like you were in the middle of work.”
“I was just about to chuck my computer across the room in frustration when you called. He thanks you, by the way, for saving his sad, little computer life.”
“Oh. You’re welcome, computer.”
“And I thank you for saving my wallet. No way can I afford to replace him.”
“You’re welcome, wallet.”
He grins. “Are you hungry? I can make you popcorn. Or something more substantial.”
“Chicken piccata?” I tease, surprised I have the energy.
He rolls his eyes. “I can make other things, you know.”
“Idon’tknow. Ben and Kaden say you’re a one-trick pony.”
“Oh, I havemanytricks up my sleeve.”
“Like a magician?”
“Like a guy who can follow a recipe.”
“Mhm. Sure.”
He gives an exasperated laugh. “Do you want popcorn or not? We’ve got the movie theater kind. Extra buttery.”
“Popcorn might be a good idea,” I say, checking in with my stomach. I should be starving—I never ate dinner—but I have only mild hunger pangs. My whole body feels off. Shaky.Something on my face must be concerning, because Wes frowns suddenly, stepping further into the room.
“Are you okay?”
I swallow. “I can’t believe I got into a fight. It just…it doesn’t seem real.”
His jaw flexes. “I think you’re still in shock.”
I nod slowly, feeling a little out-of-body, and a laugh bubbles up in my throat before bursting free. I can’t deny it sounds a bit manic. “I gotpunched.Like, actually punched. Like in a movie.”
Wes doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t appear amused in the slightest. “You should consider pressing charges.”
That has the laughter dying on my lips. My eyes snap up to his in surprise, and I start to panic a little. “No. I-I can’t. I can’t do that. That’s not?—”
“Shhh. Ivy. It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything.”
“I can’t press charges.”
“You don’t have to,” he says calmly. “It was only an idea.”
I swallow. Press my shaky hands over my stomach. “Okay.”
