Shifting on the couch, I notice an ache in my thighs, courtesy of repeatedly climbing that hill. Not only that, but my butt’s sore from sliding down it, and after a continuous struggle to get comfortable, Wes opens his arm with a questioning look. I lean into the side of his body without thinking, legs bent and tucked beneath me. His arm drapes over my shoulders, fingertips resting against my upper arm, gently grazing the skin beneath his oversized t-shirt. Back and forth they brush. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in a hypnotic movement that has my eyes fluttering shut with no regard for whatever’s on the screen.
“You have goosebumps,” he murmurs after a while.
My eyes snap open, and I look down at my arms. Sure enough, there they are, the physical evidence of my pleasure, visible across the surface of my skin. Heat crawls up my neck, though I say the opposite. “It’s cold in here.”
I hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Liar.”
Clearing my throat, I sit up, swinging my legs down so the soles of my feet are firmly planted on the floor. “I should probably head home soon,” I mutter, resisting the urge to lay back against him and forcing myself to stand up. “Can you drive me?”
Wes stands as well, but instead of answering, he pulls me into his body. Mine relaxes into his the way it always does, melting against his muscle. “Stay over,” he whispers into my hair.
I tense, my thoughts turning to his text messages from the night before. My pulse jumps in my throat. “Wes…”
“Please, Ives? Let’s have another sleepover.”
The moment I start to pull away, he lets me, always conscious of my comfort level. Never overbearing or invading. “I shouldn’t,” I say.
“Why not?”
“Because. It’s just not a good idea.”
“But why?”
I shrug, not wanting to delve into all the deep, dark details. Not wanting to go down the rabbit hole of all the worries and contradictions I have when it comes to Wes Tucker.
“If you stay over, I’ll make you waffles tomorrow.”
“Are you trying tobribeme?” I ask with a laugh.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”
“Wes,” I groan.
He smirks but thankfully concedes. “I’m just messing with you, though the waffleswerea real offer. I can take you home. I’ll get your clothes out of the dryer, so you can change.”
“Thank you,” I tell him as he heads for the laundry room, grateful he accepted my decision without pressing for further explanation.
Once I’m changed and ready, Wes grabs his keys and drives me home. Throughout the entire car ride, a heated debate takes place in my head as I try to convince myself I made the right decision. It would have been so easy to stay (sodamneasy), but it would have been such a dangerous idea, not to mention the circumstances for sleeping together are nothing like the night we lost power.
Another night like that…another night like that might put thoughts in my head. Dangerous, disastrous thoughts about me and Wes and what we are to each other. About what we could be.
Friends is enough. Friendshas to beenough. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
But when he walks me to the door of my apartment and hugs me goodnight, his cheek pressed against the top of my head and his arms holding me tight, my crush acts up again. I can’t help it, and I have to clench my teeth to keep from inviting him to stay the night inmybed.
Not a good idea. Never a good idea.
I know it’s not. And so when he finally releases me, all I say isgoodnight.Then, I head inside. I slip into bed.
I spend another night alone.
NINETEEN
The next twoweeks pass quickly.
With the stress of my first speech out of the way and the second one still in the planning stages, I’m able to give more attention to my other classes. I spend a surprising amount of time at Wes’s house, doing homework with him in his room or watching movies downstairs. We finishThe Lord of the Ringstrilogy and move on toStar Wars, of which he’s also a big fan.
Wes stays on good behavior, though he never misses an opportunity to pull me into one of his amazing hugs or cuddle together on the couch during a film. I fall asleep once or twice, but he makes no more sleepover propositions.
