Page 109 of The Boyfriend Goal

“Oh, shut up,” I say softly.

He pats my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I got you, girl.”

And I believe that about Eddie. But I also can’t help but wonder about this possessive side of Wesley. Is it going to be a problem tonight? If Wes is this obvious here, will he be able to hide it when I go to the game? Will his teammates figure us out? Will people talk? And, most of all, will that hurt him?

I better prepare thoroughly for the game. Maybe I can figure out how to interact with him so it’s not obvious I spend every night in his bedroom. I know! I’ll devise a list of do’s and don’ts.

Like, do cheer subtly and don’t maul him in the corridor post-game. Like, do say hi to everyone, and don’t flash my sports bra at Number Sixteen.

Yes, that’s a plan.

But I’m pulled from those thoughts when a family with young kids marches up to the breakfast line, and a young girl with her towhead hair in pigtails holds out a plate and says, “Pancakes, please.”

“Of course. And did you know if you give a pig a pancake…” I begin as I serve her a flapjack from my tray.

“She’ll want some syrup to go with it,” the girl says with a bright smile, finishing the next line in the popular kids’ book If You Give a Pig a Pancake.

She turns to Wesley with big expectant eyes. He looks down at her plate, and I figure he’ll give her another pancake. “You’ll give her some of your favorite maple syrup,” he says, surprising me.

He’s reciting a line in a children’s book? Who is this man?

The towhead does a little jig. “She’ll probably get all sticky!” That’s the next line.

Unable to contain her pig and pancake glee, the young blonde kid recites the next several lines in the kids’ book till her dad says, “All right, Ellie. Let’s leave the nice librarians alone.”

Nice librarians, I mouth to Wes.

“Thank you, Mister Librarian,” Ellie says to Wes, then to me, “And Miss Librarian. I read that book karaoke style.”

That catches my attention. I don’t hear that often but I know exactly what she means. That’s an assistive technology the library offers in the kids’ section. The words light up on the screen, like karaoke highlights, as the book’s read to you. It helps readers follow along, and helps those who learn in different ways.

The night he told me he had dyslexia, Wesley mentioned he’d used tech like this as a kid. Right now, his face lights up—it’s a look I’ve never seen before. A sort of pure delight. “Dude. Me too,” he says to her, then offers a fist for knocking.

Ellie stands on tiptoes and knocks fists with him. “I read them all like that. With my app and my headphones.”

He leans closer, like he’s telling her a secret. “My dad made me read like that.”

“Mine too! Did you read them all that way? The moose and the dog and the mouse?” she says, rattling off the characters in the other books in the series.

My heart is so full I don’t even know what to do with it. The way it’s beating. The way I’m smiling. I steal a glance at Ellie’s dad. He’s looking down at her with pride in his eyes.

Wes nods. “Every last moose and muffin,” he says with a sigh, but it’s not an annoyed one. It’s more a sigh of solidarity—a been there, done that sound.

“Same!” Ellie gazes longingly at her plate of pancakes. “But I’m hungry so I should go eat. If you find any more books, let me know, Mister Librarian.” She’s about to leave when her brow knits and she adds, “But you might be a firefighter.” Then she looks to me. “And you might be a firefighter too. Whatever you are, thank you!”

She skips off to eat, and I turn to Wes, too delighted to even know where to start—the way he talked to her, or the way she talked to him. But I bet he won’t want me to home in on the tools he used as a kid, so I say, “She thinks you’re a librarian.”

“And that you’re a firefighter. Too bad Halloween’s passed. We could have dressed up like that…or maybe next year.”

Those last two words echo in my mind—next year. Is he imagining a future costume party with me? Or is that just what you say? No idea, so I stay focused on the present and that moment. “Also, I think you made her day,” I say.

He shrugs like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. That was a real connection, and I want him to know that. Sometimes I think he demands perfection of himself, even when it comes to reading. He might not like it, but just letting a kid know that he learned the same way she did is a very big deal. “It’s great when a kid can meet an adult who learns and reads like they do.”

He gives me that generous smile that hits me straight in the chest like it did the night we met. It’s the kind that makes me think he wants to kiss me instead of talk. Which is fine by me, because it’s also an acknowledgment that he did make her day.

“Glad I was here then,” he says as bells jangle nearby, a sign that Thalia’s headed in our direction. “And honestly, maybe my dad made me, but damn, that was a good series. Personally, I’d recommend If You Give a Dog a Donut. It’s underrated, but might be the best of the bunch…Maybe add it to Your Next Five Reads book recs, and in all formats.”

Thalia arrives at the table, giving Wes an approving look. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. The first ones in that series are always checked out. We should promote the next ones, Josie.”

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