“Okay, listen, I won’t look. Just back up to my voice so the tree hides you.”

He takes a few guarded steps back, crossing his arms over his chest. If I reached out, I could touch him. I want to give him space, but I think he needs some comfort more. Two paces close the gap between us. I rest my hands on his shoulder blades and place my cheek in between.

“You’re not alone in what you feel, Wes. Whatever the hell it is, I feel it too. I meant what I said at the dinner table. I just wish I knew what to do about it.”

“If we keep going this way, Hayles, one or both of us will end up hurt.”

My hand slides in the fraction of an opening between his rib cage and his arm. I force my way in until my hand is on his chest, buried beneath his arms. “I have an idea. I’m pretty sure you’ll hate it.”

“What is it?”

“Okay, so don’t get your panties in a bunch, but I sort of told Dylan what’s been going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told her I was having feelings for a guy that I’ve known for a long time, and I didn’t know what it was or if it would go anywhere. She suggested that we go to dinner at their place so I could figure it all out, without the pressure of calling it a date.”

“You know we can’t do that for so many reasons.”

“I know. I’m not stupid but that tree gave me an idea. What if the four of us go to your family’s place in Vermont for a couple days? We can call it a wedding party weekend. It will bea getaway for Eli and Dylan and give us some time to spend together, so we can see if this is a game or more.”

“I may be a fuck boy, as you say, but I don’t play games. I know what the consensus is about me on both sides of the aisle.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. We don’t have to. I know we just can’t keep doing this.”

“Well, we could, and it would be… wow.”

“So is that a yes?”

“It can’t hurt. Well, it could, but I think it’s safer than sneaking around.”

“I’ll bring it up then.”

“Bad pun, Hayley.”

Chapter Twelve

Elijah

It’s funny how things seem so real when it’s not just a few of you that know. The night after we set the date, the planning was in full motion. Mom had a tentative guest list all ready for Maggie and Dylan’s approval, as well as mine. The hotel was booked and the ballroom reserved. Mom, Maggie, Hayley, and Dylan are going dress shopping today.

That gives me extra time to go over the next quarter’s projections without being hounded for being at the office on a weekend, when I’m still only supposed to be working about six hours a day, five days a week, as it is. While some days are harder than others, this is what is necessary right now. It’s good for me to try and be in the full swing instead of sitting closer to the fringe. It doesn’t set a good example for me or my abilities.

As the numbers begin to fade in and out in a blurry mess, I know a break is demanded. I rest my head back on my office chair and lay my glasses on the open keyboard. That’s when I notice the throb right behind my eyes. Great. Just what I need.

These borderline migraines are utter garbage. They aren’t happening as frequently as they did at first, but there are still too many of them. Sometimes they abate with simple medication. Sometimes they make me sick. Today is somewhere in the gray area.

If nothing else, I need to get it managed well enough to make it home. With the blinds closed, a catnap on my office couch, and a maxed dose of Advil, I should be able to go in an hour. Nothing to do now but wait. I rest on my left arm as a pillow and create a sleep mask with my right hand.

With my eyes closed and a silent office, I feel at peace until I hear the crash. There’s metal on metal. I can feel rocks grinding into my arm and shoulder. The shrill horns squeal in my ear. It’s like the decibel of a goal horn in a hockey game only it’s about two feet from me.

I feel like I’m in a hole with people surrounding me, choking out all the air. There’s a hand on my shoulder. I can feel it, but I can’t move. Why can’t I move?Eli.I can hear my name.Eli.There it is again.

“Eli, wake up.” My body jerks as I suck in a breath. It’s like I was coding and the paddles bring me back to life. “Hey, you’re okay. Shit. Relax.”

Dazed, I’m trying to find my bearings. I’m in my office. Good. Okay. The hand on me is Wes’s. “Son of a bitch,” I mutter as I exhale.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks.