I wrinkle my nose.“I think I’ll stop searching, period, at least for a while.” I pushmy glass away and pick up a napkin to wipe the condensation from myhands. With Wesley’s gaze steady on mine, something possesses me toadd, “Or who knows, maybe whatever guy my mom tries to set me upwith at my birthday party this year will finally be awinner.”
Wesley stares atme for a few beats before his lips move in what I think is supposedto be a smile. “Mama Hathaway is still doing that, huh?”
“Doesthe sun still rise in the east?” I ask, drawing a more genuinesmile from him. Not wanting to talk about my pathetic excuse for alove life, I say, “I guess we’d better flag down Bea and get thecheck.”
“Oh, Ialready paid,” Wesley says casually, avoiding my gaze as he puts onhis jacket.
“Wesley!”
He slides out ofthe booth and offers me a hand. “I wanted to avoid the awkward backand forth of who got to pay, so I made an executivedecision.”
A laugh tumblesout of me as his warm fingers close around mine and I climb fromthe booth. “That’s really sweet, thank you.”
“Mypleasure. I should be thankingyou. This is the most enjoyableevening I’ve had in quite awhile.”
Before I canquestion that, Bea rushes over to say good night to us. Sheenvelopes Wesley in a tight hug, making him promise to come backsoon. She hugs me next and then ushers us toward theexit.
There’s a chill inthe air when Wesley and I step outside. Without a word, we bothturn to the left and saunter down the sidewalk, silently admiringthe autumn decorations lining the street and adorning the fronts ofshops. I’ve just pulled my jean jacket around me tighter whenWesley slings his arm across my back, drawing me closer to him. I’msure he’s completely clueless to the fact his grin and the way herubs my arm for warmth are sending my brain into atailspin.
“Whereare you parked?” he asks.
“Downby the copy place. You?”
He hooks a thumbover his shoulder to indicate the opposite direction. “Near themarket.”
I come to anabrupt stop, causing him to do the same since his arm is stillaround me. “Have you been away from Bellevue so long you’veforgotten your directions? You’re going to have to backtrack to getto your car if you go this way.”
He shrugs,tightening his arm around me and gently urging me to start walkingagain. “You’re worth backtracking for.”
I consider tellinghim he doesn’t have to walk me to my car, but I keep my mouthclosed and lean into him instead. If Wesley is only here for a fewdays, I want to spend every possible second with him. Even if itmeans having to stitch my heart back together when he leaves again.I’ve done it before; in fact, I don’t think the tiny tear hisabsence created has ever truly healed.
At mycar, Wesley releases me and reaches inside his jacket, producing aCD in a shiny red jewel case. He opens his mouth to speak, but Isputter out a laugh before he can get any words out.“Wow. Haven’t seenone of those in a few years.”
“Tellme you still have a CD player,” he says, tapping the case againsthis palm.
“Ofcourse I do! There’s no way I’d ever part with my CD collection,especially since half of them were given to me by you. And at leasthalf ofthoseareCDs just like that one…which I assume is for me?”
Withouta word, he holds it out and I pluck it from his fingers.‘For Buttercup on her thirty-fifth birthday, withlove from Wesley’is written in neat blockletters on the front of the case.
“Youcan expect a few more of those leading up to your birthday,” Wesleysays, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets and rocking backand forth on his heels. “I contemplated doing a hit song from everyyear of your life, but decided to make a mix of old favorites andsome songs that make me think of you.”
Despite the levityof his words, there’s something in the earnestness of hisexpression that makes my throat tighten. I try to cover it bysaying, “If memory serves, thirty-five songs wouldn’t fit on one CDanyway.”
He smirks. “Iwasn’t going to mention that, but since you brought itup…”
I go to shove him,but he catches my hand and uses the momentum of my body to pull meagainst him. There was a time when I would have playfully foughtback and tried to get away. Not tonight, though. Tonight, I sinkagainst his body, wrapping my arms around him as his arms encircleme and hold on tight. I can feel the strong, steady beat of hisheart, and it makes me wonder if he can feel the way mine flutterslike hummingbird wings.
Wesley doesn’tseem in any hurry to pull away, so I hang on, fisting my hands inthe back of his jacket. The only other time we hugged for this longwas the day he left for university; I tried so hard to keep ittogether that day, but ended up bursting into tears as Wesley wentto get into his car. He held me close as I clung to him and sobbedall over the brand-new University of Ottawa shirt Stella and Ibought him when he got his acceptance letter.
When we eventuallyrelease each other, I’m certain I’m not the only one doing soreluctantly. The air between us feels charged, and the street seemsto have fallen silent even though I remember hearing people talkingand cars passing only a moment ago. A breeze sends a few strands ofhair whipping into my face, and Wesley tucks them behind my ear,his fingers lingering on my cheek.
I’m just about toturn my face into his palm when he drops his hand and stuffs itinto his pocket once more. “I’d better let you get home,” he says,taking a step back. “I have some things I need to deal with whileI’m in town, but hopefully I can see you again before your party.If not, I’ll see you on Saturday?”
“Mmhmm.” I’m dazed from our prolonged hug and the way Wesleytouched my cheek. I feel like a teenager again, desperate for everylittle scrap of affection—affection that Wesley always gave freelyand easily because we were so close—and then analyzing it to deathand hoping it meant something more than it did. “Since Monday is aholiday, I took the rest of the week off as my birthday gift tomyself. Call me anytime if you’re free to hang out.”
“Iwill.” He brushes a kiss on my cheek before leaning past me to openthe driver’s side door. “Drive safe, Ev.”
Once I’m in mycar, I watch Wesley in the rearview mirror until he disappearsaround the corner. Before starting the engine, I fish around in mypurse for my phone to check for missed calls or texts. It’s notthere, nor is it in my jacket pockets. I have a sudden vision of itsitting facedown on the table inside the diner. With a grumble, Istart the car and drive in the direction of B&H, pulling intothe lot and snagging a spot near the front door.
