Page 40 of Setting Limits

The only other spot is opposite him, so I slowly slide into my seat.

His eyes narrow, and it appears he’s scrutinizing me.

“Why were you going to change your coffee order?”

Not the question I was expecting. Though what that would have been, I’m not really sure. “Um, I don’t know. I guess to be less high maintenance?” It’s an absurd thought, but it is something I’m working on. One big step is the hair.

“How is a coffee preference, which is pretty simple at that, being high maintenance?” With a quick movement that has me jumping, he’s leaning across the table, taking my hands in his. “Chelsea, I like you for you. I know more about you than you probably realize, and it likely goes the other way too, because we have mutual friends and have spent time together. Please, don’t change things on my account. Be you. That’s the Chelsea I want.”

My heart thumps erratically. Why would he want that, Chelsea?

Even though I don’t feel like that Chelsea is a very good person lately, he’s right. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

He gives one firm nod and sits back, taking a long sip of his coffee.

One thing Wes is good at is making me feel at ease and keeping the conversation flowing. He gets me out of my head, and I relax, laughing the afternoon away with him in a small cafe. I’m enjoying myself so much that I don’t even notice that it’s gotten dark out until we leave.

“Maybe I should have made this dinner instead.”

“Well, it’s not too late…is it?” My lip is between my teeth as I look up at him. I may be pushing my luck.

“What are you thinking?”

Self-consciousness takes over when I realize I just invited Wes out to dinner. “Uh, we don’t have to.”

“No backing out now, sweets. How about pizza?” His eyes twinkle, and I know he’s remembering my adoration for pizza.

“That would be great.” Especially if it’s from the place we ordered from when I came for the concert. That place had some damn delicious food.

Gliding his hand down my arm, he interlocks our fingers again, leading me down the sidewalk.

The second we walk through the door, my mouth waters and my stomach grumbles as the incredible scent of freshly made pizza engulfs me. The pillowy soft crust is calling to me.

“Hey, man. Can I have a six cut, half with pepperoni and half with black olives?” Shock coils through me as he requests half with my favorite pizza topping. The only time he’s seen me eat it is when we were here for the concert, and I was certain he wasn’t paying that much attention, just trying to calm me down.

“You remembered?” I question once we’re seated and waiting.

He doesn’t even ask what I’m referring to. “Of course I did, sweetness.”

The pie arrives in record time, and I dig right in. For a minute, Wes sits back and watches me with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. At first, it’s endearing, then it's concerning. I lower the slice to my plate and cover my mouth as I talk around a bite. “What is it?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. You’re just cute when you eat. It’s adorable. And I think it’s sexy that you love pizza so much.”

Sexy? To love pizza? Not how I’d choose to describe it, but okay.

Without more explanation, he grabs his own slice, curls it in half, and digs in.

Dinner is just as relaxed and fun as coffee. But the night is over before I know it and part of me feels not just upset but defeated about that fact.

When we get back to my dorm, my cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much. Instead of parking, though, he idles in front of the building.

“I’d love to walk you up, but it’s a Shay night and I don’t want to interfere. Unless you’re suddenly okay with her knowing?” He cocks one eyebrow, as though truly questioning me.

“I’m still trying to figure out what there is for her to know, so preferably not yet. But thank you for coffee and dinner. And being understanding.” It’s a slight jab, but he doesn’t seem at all fazed by it.

“Can I take you to dinner again tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? You’re not sick of me yet?”

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