“Never,” he says. “You, Evelyn Simone Hathaway, have never letme get away with anything, ever.” He grips my arm and eases me to astop.
I cock oneeyebrow, waiting.
Hesighs. “Okay. There may have been a point when I developeddistinctlynon-friendshiptype feelings for you as a teenager.”
“No youdidn’t.” Damn it, there’s that defensive tone again. Wesley’s lipstwitch. “No, I would have known if you’d had feelings for me,Wesley. I remember when you had a crush on Priti Sharma and it wasall over your face every time you talked about her or sawher.”
“Whatcan I say, I learned to school my face around you.” He scratches athis short sideburns and lowers his head, suddenly seeming to findhis cardboard cup fascinating.
“Okay,if it’s true, why didn’t you ever tell me?”
With his headstill bowed slightly, he lifts his eyes to meet mine. “Probably forthe same reasons you never told me you had feelings forme.”
Mymouth works wordlessly before I manage to sputter, “I—how—?Ugh, it was Stella,wasn’t it? Remind me to strangle her when I get home.”
Wesley laughsunder his breath. “No strangling necessary; Stella never saidanything. I didn’t even realize it myself until years later. Iassumed there was no way you’d ever see me as anything other than afriend and maybe even a brother figure. But after I moved away andhad some time and space from our relationship, I saw things moreclearly, and it hit me that you might have felt the same way Idid.”
My initialreaction is to deny it, but what’s the point? I always wondered ifhe suspected. I was never great at hiding my emotions from him,after all. “Well,” I say, at a loss for words. Actually, that’s nottrue, there are too many words in my brain and I’m havingdifficulty sifting through them.
“Yeah.And by the time it fully hit me, we were both so busy—you with yourfirst year at Queen’s and me with school and working part-time. Ithought I might try to tell you when I came home for Christmas thatyear, but you were already seeing that Pete guy, and I knew itwouldn’t be right to tell you.”
I wish he had. Isort of fell into dating Pete because we had a bunch of the sameclasses and extracurriculars at Queen’s. I liked him, but I wasmissing Wesley something fierce, and that kept me from ever reallyopening up to Pete or letting him get close. Also, I think he gottired of hearing about Wesley. I didn’t mean to talk about him somuch, but when you spend your entire life being close friends withsomeone, they tend to come up often in conversation.
“Can weput a pin in this conversation for now?” Wesley asks. “It’s been sogreat to be with you again like old times, and I’ve loved seeingyou laugh and smile today. I know we need to talk about this atsome point, but…” He reaches up and uses the pad of his thumb tosmooth the space between my eyebrows. “For now, I want to see youlaugh and smile again instead of this frowny crease thing happeningbetween your brows.”
“Frownycrease thing,” I mutter, batting his hand away. “Fine, we can put apin in it for now, but we’re talking about this before you go backto Ottawa. Promise me.”
He holds up hishand and wiggles his pinky finger at me. “Promise.”
After hooking mypinky through his, our hands drop to our sides. We start walkingagain and I attempt to send him telepathic messages to slip hishand into mine once more. He doesn’t. I peek at him from the cornerof my eye to see he’s the one with a crease between his brows now.He seems lost in thought, and I’m unsure what to say to break thesilence.
He comes to anabrupt stop and turns to me. “Hey, do you want to go—” His wordscut off as suddenly as they started when a chiming sound comes frominside his jacket. “My phone. I’d ignore it, but it might be yourmom with another errand.” He grins at me as he locates his phone inan inner pocket and fishes it out. I wasn’t even aware I wasleaning in until I see the name Ashleigh flash across thescreen.
I take a step backand avert my eyes quickly, although not fast enough to miss the wayWesley’s smile wavers. The sight of Ashleigh’s name on his phonehas turned my stomach sour. Wesley still hasn’t mentioned a wordabout their break-up. Maybe Stella somehow got it wrong and they’restill together? Or Ashleigh is calling Wesley because she wants toget back together with him?
Wes silences thephone and returns it to his pocket without a word. I glance at himin time to see his mouth open, but he doesn’t manage to sayanything before the phone starts chiming again. With a sigh and anapologetic look in my direction, he pulls out the phone oncemore.
“I cangive you some privacy,” I tell him, moving another few stepsaway.
“No, noit’s okay.” He hits the Ignore button and then swipes around andstarts typing a message. “I’ll call her back when we’refinished.”
“Ithink wearefinished.” I wave my now-empty cup for emphasis and search oursurroundings for a trash can. “We did everything on Mom’s list andhave been sufficiently caffeinated.”
Despite Wesley’ssmile, I can’t help but think he looks as disappointed as I feel.“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should probably take you back toyour mom’s. Or your place if you prefer.”
“My caris at Hathaway Manor, so you can take me there. I’d like to thankmy mom for this unexpected outing today anyway.”
We’re quiet on thedrive to my parents’ place. As Wesley pulls into the driveway andparks behind my car, he says, “Looks like rain.”
I peer out thewindshield, only now noticing the dark clouds forming in the sky.The wind has also picked up in the few minutes it took us to drivefrom downtown.
Wesley hops out ofthe car and opens the back to collect my things. I’m still climbingout of the passenger seat when the front door opens and a man Idon’t recognize comes out and strides purposefully in ourdirection.
“Goodafternoon, Miss Hathaway, we haven’t yet met.” With his formalmanner, slim-fitting dark suit, and hint of a British accent, Ihalf expect him to bow to me. “My name is Elliot, and I’m one ofyour mother’s assistants. Mrs. Hathaway asked me to collect theitems you acquired today and put them in your car for you. She alsoasked me to issue an invitation to both you and Mr. McGrath to comein for cocktails and dinner.”
Wesley approachesfrom the other side of the car, his arms laden with boxes. His gazemeets mine only briefly before flicking away; the way his eyesglitter with mirth tells me he’s afraid prolonged eye contactbetween us will set us both off laughing. He wouldn’t bewrong.
“Wouldyou mind telling Mrs. Hathaway I have a previous engagement and Isend my regrets?” Wesley says, handing the boxes toElliot.
