Page 16 of Dear Hattie

There’s something stopping me. A knot of anxiety in my chest, weighing me down. Telling me that it’s not safe yet to give this man my heart; warning me to tread carefully.

“I saw you earlier,” Wesley says, rocking our hips together as he kisses along my jaw. “Talking to Simone in the break out area. You looked so fucking cute in this little librarian outfit, Fry. This flowery little skirt and cardigan. All I wanted to do was snatch you up and carry you off.”

“That would have been rude,” I manage to say, breathless already. His tongue flicks across my skin, and my belly twists tight. I grind down harder in his lap, the desk creaking beneath our weight. “But it wouldn’t have made much difference. We got interrupted by a rogue chicken.”

Wesley hums, weaving one hand into my hair and gently tugging my head back. “Isn’t that always the way?”

I must be heavy, sitting on his lap like this. And it’s warm in here, the air close and still, but Wesley doesn’t make a single noise of complaint. Instead he hums and murmurs sweet nothings in my ear, and kisses me over and over like it’s the best thing in the world, and not a preamble to something bigger. Like he’d be content with just this—tonight and every night.

Does it make me a terrible person if this isnotenough? If I want more? If I’m panting and squirming, with molten heat between my legs, feeling so needy for his touch I could cry?

“Wesley,” I wail at last when his teeth scrape my throat. “Are youevergonna fuck me?”

He straightens up and stares at me. The room is suddenly so quiet.

I press my lips together, heart hammering, suddenly rigid in his arms. Why the hell did I say that? Why did I blurt it out like a loser?

God. What am I thinking, begging my enemy to screw my brains out? Talk about handing over ammunition. What if he makes fun of me for this one day?

But: “Yes,” Wesley says slowly, and the raw hunger in his eyes makes my breath hitch. My panicked, wheeling thoughts slam to a halt, and I melt against his chest again. “But only once you trust me, Harriet. Only once you’re ready to be mine.”

Oh my god. Does he mean…?

“Like… yours in bed? Um. On table?” I bury my face in his neck and wince. Man, I suck at these conversations. How on earth am I an advice columnist?

But Wesley pets my hair. His heart is thumping so hard, I can feel it through his t-shirt. “Not just that. Mine in every way.”

I gulp, hardly daring to hope. “Not just nemeses with benefits?”

“Nope.” His palm strokes down my spine, and I arch against him with a gasp. “The real deal. The whole thing. I want it all, Harriet. Don’t you know that by now? I want you in my bed; eating my food; spilling drinks on my sofa. I want your toothbrush in my bathroom cabinet and your little lady snores late at night.”

“Hey! I do not snore—”

“And one day, I want my ring on your finger. And a family with you, if that’s something you want. I want to grow old together and terrorize our nursing home.”

Oh, wow.

Staring at the pane of glass over Wesley’s shoulder, I breathe hard as my whole world realigns. Our reflections in the glass blur into one big tangle, and this is all somuch.

And so good. Almost too good to be true.

I’ve been lonely for so, so long. And by some insane twist of fate, my arch nemesis feels likehome.

“Do you believe me?” Wesley asks quietly, like he’s reading my mind. He’s still holding me close, like I’m something precious. Stroking my back and peppering kisses down my throat. “Can you believe me after all our hijinks?”

Can I?

It’d be pretty rich if my answer was no. Right? Because it wasn’t a one-way thing, my rivalry with Wesley. It wasn’t all him tormenting me. I gave as good as I got, and I instigated plenty. That’s why it was always so electric between us.

And Wesley isn’t holding that stuff against me. All those times I needled him and pushed his buttons, just to see how he’d react. All those times we circled each other like cats, hissing and spitting with our fur on end.

He’s placing his trust in me. Opening up and being vulnerable.

I can do that too. Can’t I?

Everyone leaves,a voice whispers in the back of my head.Just look at Simone. But with Wesley’s steady gaze on mine, I push those thoughts away. What would Dear Hattie say? Enough playing small. Time to be brave.

“I’m ready now,” I say, sitting up taller in his lap. Because Iamready, and I’m tired of sabotaging my connection with this man. Tormenting each other was super fun for a while, but I can do that and date him too. Right?

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