Page 24 of Salvation

“Or when you look at each other like you want to rip your clothes off.” Whitney mutters, and I gasp, launching one of the marshmallows I was prepared to shove into my mouth at her.

I smirk, opting to give her a taste of her own medicine. “Oh, and what is it you call it when you ogle theotherConway boy-"

She cut me off by launching the marshmallow right back. We all break out into a fit of giggles, which soon turns into laughter so loud it has us doubling over and fighting off tears. This nighthas been fun, the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Once things dwindled down and we all started yawning, we even promised to make plans for next weekend to do it again, and I find myself rather excited at the idea. That night though, once I’m tucked in bed and trying to drift off, all I can think about is our earlier conversation.

Maybe you guys should try to be friends.

Maybe they’re right. Regardless of the small town and friends we share, we’re linked through our moms until the end of time. And we are neighbors, after all.

Chapter 25

Wesley

“Alright. Last one, okay?”

I throw a piece of leftover bacon from this morning into the air and watch as the black lab at my feet jumps to catch it in his mouth. For a dog that gets exercise every day and walks at least a mile down to my house day and night, he’s seriously a chunk. Wyatt thinks it’s because I feed him, but he’s always been like this. Plus, they only live for so long, so why not let them enjoy the finer things in life? With that thought, I pat his head and toss him another piece. “Don’t tell your father.” I point a finger in his face in warning and turn around to throw a lob of butter into the heated pan on the stove. The lacrosse game I have on blasts from the small TV I have hanging in my kitchen. Just as I go to throw some vegetables into the pan, a knock sounds from the front door, and Benji barks before bolting to it and sniffing the bottom of the door like he can somehow figure out who it is that way.

I wipe my hands on the apron and join him at the door. What I don’t expect to see is Blake standing there in tight pink biker shorts and a cropped black tee. A ballcap adorning her head, hair pulled into a messy bun in the back. She looks fuckingdelectable.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, offering a soft, almost timid, “Hi,” like she’s not sure she’s supposed to be here.

“Everything okay?” I ask, looking over her shoulder, not seeing anything. Can’t think of any other reason why she’d show up to my house unless she was being chased with a chainsaw.

“Can I come in?” Her tone piques my interest enough that I don’t say anything, and against better judgment, I step aside and motion with my head for her to step in. She gives Benji a quick greeting, and once he’s satisfied with her attention, he waddles over to the dog bed I bought for him. Her eyes light up as she takes in my space. It’s an open concept. Cathedral ceilings with wooden beams. A spacious kitchen with an island and a living room with a real fireplace. Tall windows all around. No curtains, so the light is always streaming in. I’m an early bird anyway, so it never bothers me much. Plus, when you live in the middle of nowhere, there’s not much need for that extra wall of privacy. It’s not much, but I built it myself, and it’s home. My mom always chastises me about how it could use a 'woman’s touch.'

“Wow. Who knew you had such taste?”

“Says the girl who likes the Yankees.” I huff, making a show of glancing at her hat. “So, what’s up?”

“I…well, I was just going for a walk and wanted to see if you wanted to come. I saw the truck in the driveway.”

I’m stumped. Stuck standing there with my mouth gaping like a fish. I half expected her to ask me to kill a mouse for her or something, but not hang out. We don’t even like each other half the time, and she’s acting like this is something normal. Like it’s something we’d do every day. I warded her off after finding outshe was moving in. Granted, I did bake her favorite cookies, so she must be feeling some sort of guilt for the way we’ve been acting around each other.

“…You want to hang out?”

Her face reddens, and she scrunches her face. “Forget it. It was a dumb idea.” She whirls around and bolts for the door, already having thrown it open. Somehow, I wasn’t pleased when I saw her on my porch, but knowing shewantsto be here has made me feel differently. Turns out I’ll still take whatever she’ll give me.

“Blake, close the door and get your ass back here.” The blush on her face deepens, if that’s even possible, but she closes the door. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” she admits.

I nod and say, “Good, it’ll be just a little while, but you can hang out on the couch. Want a beer?”

“God, yes - holy shit. Is that Aaron?” I turn as I see that she’s gaping at the TV where the lacrosse game was playing. Now there’s an interview going on of Aaron Moore. He used to go to high school with us and left town once he got a full-ride scholarship to play. I almost laugh at her expression. He’s a big deal, so I’m a bit shocked Blake hasn’t heard about him while living in the city. Right then, her phone begins to ring, and I watch as she fishes it out from the pocket on the side of her shorts. Her eyes light up a bit at the name, and red-hot jealousy courses through me because I want nothing more than to knowwhoshe’s smiling about. I busy myself with opening the fridge so as to not look like I’m snooping.

“Vivienne.” She says it as a way of greeting. That immediately eases the tension in my shoulders. I’ve heard about Vivienne through her mom. Not much aside from the fact that they’re close friends who met in the city.

“What? How did you even know that? Creep. No, No. It’s Wesley.” She lowers her voice when she gets to my name,seemingly thinking I can’t hear her. But I can. And when I turn back around with a beer in my hand, I can also see the blush creeping up her neck when she says it. That has me feeling smugger than I should. She continues talking in a hushed voice. “Yes, yes. Okay, I’ll call you later. Bye.”

She looks at me with a soft smile on her face and tucks a piece of hair that fell back under her cap. “Sorry. She gets a bit cranky if I don’t answer.”

I huff a laugh at that. “Makes sense. I’m sure she misses you,” I take a deep breath before continuing, “Did you enjoy it? The city?” I, of all people, know she did, but small talk was better than standing here all awkwardly.

“Yes. And no. Vivienne was probably the best thing about it. She is, I mean.” Her wording doesn’t invade me. And I’m dying to know if that means she’s torn up on whether or not she wants to go back. She did buy a house, though, so I can’t imagine she’s that torn.

“Why’d you leave then?”

“It’s…complicated.” The way her tone falters just a bit at the end and the way she pauses when she speaks those words confirms that it runs deeper than even I could have anticipated. “Let me guess,” I drawl, leaning against the island and cocking my head. “Crazy ex or something?”

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