Where are you?
I wasn’t surprised to see his text, but it did make my blood heat. We’d been back from our trip for two weeks and had spent almost every evening together. Some nights, we had dinner; others, when he worked late, we watched stupid TV and snuggled on his couch.
Yeah. Snuggled.
We’d been saying we were just friends while holding on to each other like life rafts. My social life was Weston. My hobbies were Weston and more Weston.
It wasn’t wise and probably not healthy, but I told myself I could stop at any time. We were just making up for the years we hadn’t been close. If we didn’t kiss or have sex, it didn’t count.
So what if my body thrummed, and when I left his place, I went straight to bed and took care of my pulsing clit with his face on my mind and his name on my lips. So what if Weston’s joggers seemed to be permanently tented?
I quickly replied, then set my phone face down on the table in front of me, giving my attention to Rebecca and Simon. They were on their second pitcher of margaritas and well on their way to getting shit-faced. They’d been asking me to go out with them for ages, and it had been on the tip of my tongue to turn them down once again, but I’d thought better of it. They were good friends to me, had been from day one, and I didn’t want to lose that because I’d become mildly obsessed with my boss.
Rebecca’s husband, Sam, had just arrived from his office a few blocks away, and since we were both mostly sober, we were laughing at their antics.
Right now, they were in a deep debate on whether rock could really beat paper. Simon said yes, Rebecca was adamant the answer was no. Sam had to make her sit back down when she tried to go outside to find a rock to prove her argument.
Sam picked up the pitcher. “If I can’t beat them, I’m joining them.” He filled his glass, then gestured to mine. “Refill?”
“Sure, thank you.”
Two was my limit tonight. The last thing I needed was to show up at Weston’s drunk. Tipsy would be dangerous enough.
Rebecca and Simon finished their argument and decided it was time for dancing. There wasn’t much of a dance floor in this bar, but they found a spot that had previously been a walkway and declared it theirs.
“I need you to tell me how you guys got together in high school.”
Sam turned away from watching his wife, a smile tipping his lips. He was a big man, but gentleness exuded from him. He had fluffy brown curls and soft, caramel eyes that melted when he was looking at Rebecca.
“I was a jock, she was a theater kid.”
I grinned. “I’m not surprised in the least.”
“No.” He shook his head. “She hasn’t lost her flair for drama.”
I clinked my glass with his. “That’s why we love her.”
“One of the many reasons.” He took a sip then got back to his story. “We didn’t have any of the same friends, but we were in English together our sophomore year. She’d caught my eye right away but wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
I gasped. “Rude.”
He chuckled. “I know, right? The truth was, I was a cocky little shit. I was on the varsity team my first year of high school so I thought I was a big man. Girls were into me, even the older ones, so I couldn’t figure out why Rebecca wouldn’t even say hi to me. I thought I was going to forget about her, then I saw her in a production of Chicago and that was it for me.”
“Roxie Hart?”
His cheeks flushed. “Yeah. There’s no forgetting Roxie.” His grin was lopsided and adorable. “I upped my game, stopped hanging out with other girls, and focused my full attention on Rebecca, asking her out every other month while putting in the work of getting to know her. She wasn’t mean about rejecting me. She kept telling me we didn’t have anything in common and didn’t make any sense together, so I made her see that we made sense. When the spring musical auditions came around, I got my big ass up on that stage and sang my heart out.”
I snorted a laugh. “Did you land a role?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I can’t sing a lick. They made me part of the company. Rebecca got the lead.” He took a long swallow of his margarita. “On the last day of the play, she walked right up to me and said, ‘I’ll go out with you, but if you screw around and break my heart, I’ll break your dick.’ That was when I knew I was going to marry her.”
I tossed my head back, laughing, buoyant on their story. I didn’t care what Weston said. Happy endings were possible if you were with the right person.
A brush along my cheek startled me.
“What’s so funny, bella?”
I whipped around to find Luca grinning at me. Over his shoulder stood Weston, his expression stony.
“Luca!” I cried, hopping up to hug him. “What are you doing here?”
He squeezed me tight and kissed both my cheeks. “West was in the mood for drinks. I had nothing on, so here I am. And what a treat, I get to see my best girl.” He pulled me to his side so he could face Sam. “Did we interrupt?”
“Not at all,” I answered.
Sam rose to his feet, all six feet, five inches of him. He held out his hand to Luca.
“Hello. I’m Sam,” he said amiably.
Luca shook his hand, introducing himself, then we all turned to Weston. Sam held his hand out to him. Weston’s eyes flicked down to it, his upper lip curling slightly before finally taking Sam’s hand.
He was being weird.
When he took a seat across from me, rigid and staring straight at me, it finally hit me. Without Rebecca and Simon here with us, it probably looked like I was on a date with Sam.
“Hi, Weston,” I said.
“Hello,” he uttered.
“Remember that conversation we had about happy endings?”
His nod was barely perceptible.
“And remember when I told you about Rebecca marrying her high school sweetheart?” Again, he nodded. “Well, until just now, I’d never heard their full story. Sam just let it all out, and I have to say, I’m an even firmer believer in happy endings.”
Sam patted my forearm. “Well, damn. I’m honored. Don’t tell Becks, though. She’ll gloat.”
I laughed, my gaze flicking to Simon and Rebecca in the midst of some monstrosity of a line dance.
“I think I’m safe telling her anything tonight since she won’t remember it tomorrow.” Catching Luca and Weston’s attention, I pointed out my coworkers. “That’s Simon and Rebecca. They got a head start on the margaritas.”
Luca guffawed. “Are they seizing?”
“That’s dancing,” I corrected.
Sam rubbed his forehead and stared at Weston. “Wait a second. You’re not Weston Aldrich, are you? Rebecca’s boss.”
Weston’s glare slowly faded with the dawning of what he’d actually walked in on and he looked at Sam without homicidal intent.
“I am. Unfortunately, I don’t have the pleasure of working with Rebecca on a regular basis, but from Elise’s stories, I’m missing out.”
Oh, that charmer.
It worked on Sam. His barrel chest puffed with pride. “I imagine it’s a good thing for me my wife doesn’t work close to you.” He eyed Weston appraisingly. “Otherwise, she’d probably come home and ask me to grow out my hair, maybe add some highlights and start wearing suits.”
I elbowed him. “I have a hard time believing Rebecca would ever ask you to be anyone other than yourself.”
He winked at me. “Yeah, you’re right.” Then he put his glass down and stood. “I’m going to go check on the two of them. Brace yourself for when I tell her her boss is here.”
Luca blew out a breath when Sam walked away. “Thank Christ that wasn’t what it looked like. I thought we were crashing your date.”
“No.” I sipped my margarita and glanced back and forth between Weston and Luca. “I’m not really dating anyone right now.”
Weston leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “So, you’re single and free?”
“I guess so. How about you?” I asked.
His mouth twitched. “Free as a bird.”
“Me too,” Luca supplied. “Not that you asked.”
“Don’t pout,” I cooed. “I was about to get to you.”
A waitress stopped by, taking their drink orders. Weston’s eyes were locked on me when he ordered his bourbon. I licked the salt off my lip. His nostrils flared, and his fingers flexed on his knees.
We hadn’t been out anywhere together since California. I hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to pretend with him. It seemed unnatural for us to be so far apart. He hadn’t hugged me when he showed up, and the low ache in my stomach longed for his arms to be around me.
“How was your day?” I asked him.
“Fine. The same as always. Yours?”
My lips twitched. “Good. There was a sticky note on my desk this morning.”
His brow arched. “Oh? What did it say?”
“It said stars can come back from the dead. These are called zombie stars.”
Luca’s brow furrowed. “Who’s leaving sticky notes on your desk?”
I bit my bottom lip to stop from grinning and shrugged. “They’re anonymous, but I have my suspicions.”
“Zombie stars.” Weston rubbed his chin. “Interesting. That sounds like your kind of star.”
“You like zombies?” Luca asked.
I nodded. “I do. Well, not real-life ones.”
“Of course not,” Weston said dryly.
“It’s kind of creepy someone at your job knows that,” Luca said. “Maybe you should report this to HR, Elise.”
It was almost impossible to hold back my snort, but I managed. “I’ll think about it.”
“It’s probably some idiot desperate for your attention,” Weston said.
I slowly turned my head from Luca to him. Heat flooded between us. “Is it?”
He lowered his chin and opened his mouth to speak when a shriek cut him off. Rebecca was stumbling toward us, Simon and Sam on her heels. I sat back in my chair, the knot in my stomach loosening.
I surpassed my self-appointed limit, finishing my third margarita. It wasn’t my fault, really. The six of us were having fun and talking so much, I got thirsty. And I wasn’t drunk, just floaty and happy.
It was fortunate tomorrow was Saturday. You know, just in case I was actually drunk and needed time to recover.
Right now, I had more pressing matters to attend to. “I’ll be right back. Ladies’ room.”
The restroom was empty when I entered, so I quickly did my business and washed my hands. The moment I opened the door to the bar, Rebecca’s laugh floated above all the other sounds, making me smile.
“Happy?”
I hadn’t noticed Weston leaning against the wall farther down the hall, away from the bar. I sauntered over to him, and when I was near, he hooked his arm around me, drawing me into his chest.
I sighed, finally getting the hug I’d been craving.
“I was ready to murder him, you know,” he murmured.
“What?” I tipped my head back. “Murder who?”
“Sam. When I thought he was your date. It ripped me apart.”
I sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not seeing anyone.” I pressed a hand to his cheek, rubbing at the turned-down corner of his mouth with my thumb. “This is hard.”
“I hate it,” he groused.
“Should we stop hanging out so much? It only makes it harder.”
“No.” His arm tightened on me. “I want more of you, not less.”
“West,” I sighed, tucking my face in his throat. “I do too.”
His fingers delved into my hair. His other hand slid from my waist down to my ass, kneading and rubbing, keeping me pressed tight against him. How could something that felt so right be wrong? It was easy to forget why we couldn’t be together when he was holding me like this.
“Look at me, baby,” he murmured softly.
Pulling back from his throat, I opened my eyes. He was right there, dipping down so we were eye to eye. He palmed the back of my head and touched his lips to mine. He was gentle, sweet, pecking lightly at first, then with more firmness, but not too much.
“I can’t, Elise.” He kissed me again, barely taking my bottom lip between his. I clutched at him, dizzy from the soft kisses he was raining all over my mouth.
“Oh shit.”
Our heads whipped around at the same time, finding a wide-eyed Luca staring at us from the end of the hallway.
“Oh shit,” he repeated.
Weston wouldn’t let me pull away. He kept me locked against him, even as he pushed off from the wall.
“Hi, Luca.” My voice came out small and nervous. My heart thumped hard in my chest. This could be bad. I wished I was fully sober to face this.
Luca scrubbed at his face then marched toward us. “Hi, bella. What kind of trouble have you gotten into?”
“There’s no trouble.” Weston went taut, as if he was prepared to battle Luca if he had to. “It’s no concern of yours.”
Luca’s gaze slid back and forth between us. “What isn’t a concern? Tell me what I walked in on because, to be quite honest, this doesn’t look like a drunken make-out session.”
Shuddering, my lashes fluttered to my cheeks. “It’s not. We’re—” What the hell were we? I didn’t even know how to begin to explain us to Luca.
“We’re together,” Weston declared.
I asked, “We are?” at the same time Luca yelled, “You’re what?”
“Together,” Weston confirmed.
Luca pulled up straight, shaking off some of his alcohol-induced haziness. “I’m assuming Elliot doesn’t know about this since the city isn’t burning.”
“It’s new,” I told him.
Incredibly new. Like a minute old. And I hadn’t even agreed to anything.
So why was I holding on to Weston?
Oh, because I liked him saying we were together. I wanted that to be real. If he was just saying it for Luca’s sake, I’d take a page out of Rebecca’s book and break his dick, only he wouldn’t get a warning.
Luca crossed his arms, assessing us. “You’ll tell him. I won’t lie to him.”
“Give us a little time,” I pleaded. “We won’t sneak around, but I’m not ready to face my brother yet.”
“You won’t have to lie,” Weston said with certainty. “He won’t ask, so there won’t be a reason to. When Elise and I feel the time is right, we’ll tell Elliot.”
Luca stared at him for a long moment before scoffing. “He’s going to be so pissed.” He rubbed his jaw like he was thinking. “I’ll be pissed if you fuck her over, West.”
Weston’s hold on me tightened. “I would never do that.”
Luca shoved his fingers through his hair and cupped his head, muttering curses. He paced back and forth in front of us, battling something internally.
Finally, he stopped, nodding like he came to a decision. “I never saw this coming, but I can’t say I’m not thrilled to death about it, for both of you.” He wagged his finger between us. “There’s something right here. It fits. The two of you fit. Although, I’m second-guessing all the times you referred to Elise as a sister.”
Luca chuckled. Weston didn’t.
“Feelings evolved. I’ve never lied about how I feel, though. There was a time she was like a sister to me, but that faded and now she’s something else.”
Luca’s humor dropped away, replaced by a look of understanding. “I get it, Weston. I know you wouldn’t have gone there with Elise unless you were serious.”
I cleared my throat and wrested myself away from Weston. It was difficult to be taken seriously when I was plastered to his chest.
“I would love it if you two didn’t talk about this like I’m not here. The thing is, Weston and I haven’t really had a chance to define anything yet, so can you give us that chance, Luca? I know you’re in a tough spot, and I hate that you are, but—”
He held his hand up. “I don’t like Elliot being in the dark about something so big, but if I hadn’t walked back here when I did, I would have never guessed there was anything going on between you. So, I’ll take the blame for bad timing. You two crazy kids figure yourselves out. I’m going to go to the bathroom and pretend like I didn’t see a thing.”
He started to turn, but I called out to him. His brow winged in question.
“My birthday’s next weekend,” I said.
His grin was small but sincere. “I know it is, bella.”
“Well, Saoirse is throwing me a little party on our rooftop. You should come.”
He rocked back on his heels. “As much as I would love to be there—not just for you, but to meet your elusive friend after all these years—I’ll be at my parents’ next weekend for their fortieth wedding anniversary.”
“You’ll be missed,” Weston deadpanned.
I thought maybe he wasn’t happy Luca was involved now. Or maybe he was being sincere. Weston’s innate grumpiness made him hard to read at times.
Luca disappeared into the restroom, leaving Weston and me alone.
I heaved a sigh, worry worming its way into my stomach. Weston dipped down, brushing his lips over mine. When he pulled back, there was a trace of a grin on his mouth.
“Come home with me.”
I nodded.
We were really doing this.
