Page 76 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

His gaze softened as we stared at each other, and another layer of that thick wall protecting my heart fell away.

CHAPTER 27

HAVEN

We ended up staying at Jack and Shirley’s for dinner, and by the time we made it back to my apartment, it was late evening.

“Did Shirley tell you what was in this box?” Wesley asked as he shut the apartment door with his foot.

“She said it was some stuff from my old room,” I said. “They kept it all just in case.”

“Did you want to look at it now?”

“In a minute? I was going to change first,” I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at my bedroom.

“Don’t change too much.” He winked. “I like you the way you are.” I scrunched my nose up at him and narrowed my eyes. “You’re right, that was super cheesy,” he admitted.

I laughed and shook my head. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where do you want this?” Wesley called after me as I closed the bedroom door.

“On the coffee table!” I replied.

I quickly changed out of my dance clothes into leggings and my old, too-big Salt Lake City Ballet sweatshirt. I grabbed a pair of fuzzy socks, then paused, remembering how Maya always complained about my ballerina feet.

So, instead of just throwing the socks on, I ducked into my bathroom and washed my feet. Then I brushed my teeth too. Just in case.

When I came back out into the living room, Wesley was waiting for me on the plush gray couch, his arm slung over the back and one leg crossed over the other.

I walked around him to the other end of the couch. But before my body could sink into the cushions, his arm grabbed me and pulled me to his side.

“Maya—“

“Isn’t here,” he murmured, his hand resting on the smallest part of my waist.

I looked up at him. “How do you know?”

“She messaged me when you were changing at the theater, asking if you were with me because you hadn’t come back. Then she told me she was going home to her dad’s for dinner.”

I swallowed and nodded, then turned to the small box in front of us. I saw Wes pout out of the corner of my eye, but he let go of me so I could scoot forward and look inside.

The first thing I pulled out had been stored in thick bubble wrap. I held in a gasp as I unwrapped it, revealing the small white and gold music box Wes had gotten me for Christmas almost twelve years ago.

He sat up straighter as I opened it, but his face held disappointment when he realized it was empty.

“What was in it?” he asked.

“Nothing. It was always empty,” I said. “I never had any jewelry special enough to put in it.”

He nodded, then took it from my hands, turning it so he could wind up the music. As he set it down on the coffee table, the sound of “The Waltz of the Flowers” filled the room, and I looked in the box on the table again.

“Oh, my god!” I squealed, lifting out the glittery purple folder sitting on top.

I ignored everything else in the box. Nothing was as important as that folder. That folder held every letter Wesley had ever sent me in chronological order on one side and all the envelopes on the other.

“Look!” I exclaimed, angling my body to show it to him.

“It matches the glitter from your costume you got all over me,” he teased, gesturing at his black shirt as he leaned back into the cushions.

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