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  I headed toward my kitchen, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he followed me. My plan was to make myself a glass of water. I wasn't thirsty. I was just jittery and wanted something to do with my hands.

  "I didn't expect you to still be here," I said, taking a glass out of the cabinet. "Do you want some water?" I glanced at him, and he shook his head. He was wearing a serious expression. "You okay?" I asked.

  "I don't know."

  He came to stand next to me in the kitchen, leaning against the counter in much the same way he had been leaning against the back of my couch.

  "What do you mean? Are you torn up about Elvis?"

  "No," he said.

  I turned and propped myself against the cabinet next to him. "What is it, then?" I asked, taking a sip of water even though I wasn't thirsty.

  "I haven't been here the whole time," he said. "I just got back a few minutes ago. I locked up when I left, don't worry. I knew you kept an extra key in the drawer. I'm sorry if it's weird that I took it, but I knew you wanted me to lock the door."

  "It's fine, but what's going on?"

  "I had to go see her—talk to her in person," he said.

  My head whipped around and I leveled him with a frustrated expression.

  "I went to Shea's," he clarified as if I needed it.

  I felt sick at the sound of her name. For three months now I had pretended that I was really supportive of their relationship, but this was crossing the line. Wes's jealous expressions had given me false hope, and now there I was, kicking a nice guy out of my apartment with lies about dartboards and dead family. I let out a sigh, feeling hurt and confused.

  Chapter 11

  "I left her," he said. "I told her I couldn’t see her anymore. I broke up with her."

  Their relationship had ups and downs. In the time that Wes and I had been friends, I had seen him through a couple of rough patches where he and Shea would go a few days without speaking to each other. This is why I asked, "Broke up for good? Or just for the day?"

  "Fair enough," he said, looking back at me. "I probably deserve that."

  "It's not about what you deserve, Wes. I'm not trying to punish you. It's just that you guys are… whatever. I don't know."

  He sighed and rubbed his face, hesitating as if gathering his thoughts. Both of us were still leaning against the counter, so we weren't really face-to-face.

  "I loved the idea of her," he said after a long, thoughtful pause. "I really thought she was what I wanted. I really did. The accent, and the look, and the way she…" Wes trailed off when he realized he might be saying a little too much. "I really thought she was the right fit for me, that's all. I worked hard for a long time to make it work because of it."

  I was happy to hear that they had broken up, but I didn't really want to hear any more about how perfect Shea was. Those words hurt. I knew Wes thought he was going to marry her, my brother had already told me that. I knew he loved how she looked and loved her accent. I didn't need to go over it again.

  "Why are you breaking up with her?" I asked. "Why don't you just try to work it out like you always do?"

  Several seconds of silence passed, and then he said, "Is that what you want, Jolene?" His tone was laced with disappointment, and his words caused a crazy mix of emotions to flood my body—hope, love, fear, anger, excitement.

  "This has nothing to do with me," I said.

  "You're wrong. It has everything to do with you."

  I looked at him and he looked at me. For the first time, it was like the intensity I felt toward him all along was reciprocated. There had always been energy emanating off of me toward him, but now he was giving off energy of his own. Now, there was real tension mingling in the air between us. I could feel it. I could almost see it. It was palpable. His dark eyes pierced through me, making me feel like I wanted to cry. He reached up and touched his chest.

  "It was like I woke up to something, tonight, Jo. I mean, I knew how beautiful you were, but it was like I saw it in a different way today—a different type of appreciation. Then, when you left to go meet that guy, I realized that… I… I know it shouldn't have taken you seeing someone else to make me see it. I know that. But I… you left, and I… I just kept being so mad about it. I was angry. I wanted to go after you. I knew I didn't have any right to do that, and I…" he paused and sighed running his hand through his hair. It seemed as if he was frustrated with himself for not being able to come up with the right words. "I asked myself what if it was Shea? What if Shea was the one meeting some guy for dinner? And you know what? The answer to that made me realize that I had everything all backwards. It seemed preferable to me, Jolene—the idea of having Shea meet some guy. That seemed like a more acceptable option than having you do it. I wished it was her on that date and not you. Then I thought about taking her to Memphis, and I realized you were the one I wanted with me, not her. That's when I knew that I had it all wrong."

  He continued to look at me, and I just stood there, looking back at him and wondering what he would possibly say next. I was so very shaken up. I set down my water, feeling like I might drop the glass. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and profess my undying affection, but I remained patient and quiet.

  "I don't know what I expect you to say right now," he said. "I have no idea what you feel for me, and honestly, I'm not sure I'm even ready to know. I know we can't just jump into something the instant I end things with her. I know you need some time to think about what I'm saying. I need time to think about it, too. I wasn't expecting this afternoon to play out the way it has. It's probably stupid, it's just that Elvis dying made me think about how life just rolls right along; time passes whether we want it to or not. It just hit me that I was going with the plan—not because it was the best plan—but more because it was the plan I thought was best at one point." He let out another self-deprecating sigh as if he was completely frustrated that he couldn't get out the right words. "I'm sorry. It's been a crazy day. I feel like I'm in a dream right now."

  I really wanted to throw caution to the wind and just kiss him right then and there. I wanted to tell him what a good thing he had done by ending things with Shea. It took every ounce of my restraint to keep myself from taking advantage of this opportunity—this rare moment where Wes showed vulnerability.

  He was too special for that, though, and so was I. I knew deep down that I would really regret it if I didn't use caution and patience. I couldn't let either of us get into an impulse situation. I slowly moved to stand in front of him, leaving a foot or so of space between us. I crossed my arms in front of my chest just to give myself something to do with my hands.

  "You're right about us both needing some time to think about this, Wes. I want you to make sure you feel like you did the right thing."

  "I know I did," he said. He patted his chest again. "My heart knows it's right."

  "I'm tripping right now because I'm pretty sure you're telling me you figured out you like me."

  "I am, Jolene. I mean, I liked you all along, I just thought that… I had other plans, and then somehow you… I don't know. I didn't even realize what was going on until… it sounds bad, but I just couldn't stand the thought of you with some other guy. I know I don't have any right to tell you what to do with your life since I was seeing someone, but I… I'm sorry, Jo. I'm sorry I didn't see it before. I don't expect you to drop everything and go falling for me. Just please tell me you feel something for me. Please tell me I'm not alone in this."

  "You're definitely not alone in this, Wes. You must know I care about you; otherwise, you wouldn't be here. We wouldn't be having this conversation."

  "So, what's next? Say something. Do something. I feel like I'm gonna go crazy if you don't tell me what you're thinking."

  I'm thinking I love you Wes. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. For the last three months, I've been dreaming, and praying, and wishing for this exact moment. "I care about you, Wes. I really do. You know I do."

  "But what?"
r />   "But you're right that we both need a second to just breathe and figure out what's going on. I actually really care about you, Wes—like deep in my heart. And I'm not trying to have some moment of… some moment where we act on impulse and then things go back to the way they were. I wouldn't be able to handle that, and I just think it's smart if we take a second and make sure it's what we want."

  "What can I do?" he asked. "What can I do to show you this is what I want—you're what I want?"

  "Just give yourself a few days," I said. "I don't want to be the thing you rush into."

  He continued to gaze into my eyes. His expression was intense, beseeching. It was literally torture for me to stop myself from collapsing into his arms—I felt weak and achy because of it. I knew it's what he wanted of me, and I desperately wanted to oblige him. Desperately.

  "Fine," he said. "I'll wait as long as you want. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll prove to you that I'm serious."

  "That seems like a completely amazing possibility," I said.

  "Why do you seem doubtful?"

  "I'm not doubtful. I'm happy and I'm hopeful. I'm just trying to be levelheaded. I know you've had a rough day, and I don't want you to feel bad if you—"

  "If I what?"

  "Nothing. I'm just saying…"

  "How long?" he asked. "How long till you'll believe me?"

  "Let's just let it simmer for a few days," I said. "I think we owe ourselves that."

  "No more Colton in those days," he said.

  I smiled. "Fine then, no Shea."

  He shrugged. "Easy. Done."

  "Good."

  "What about Colton? Are you gonna text him and tell him 'too bad you're taken'?"

  I let out a little laugh. "That would be a really weird thing to say."

  "No, it wouldn't." He held out his hand, flexing his fingers. "Let me see your phone. I'll do it for you."

  "You are not doing that," I said, still laughing at him.

  "Your smile is so… I want to kiss your lips, JoJo."

  My heart was already pounding, but his statement completely took the breath out of my lungs. Wes's speaking voice was much like his singing voice, and the sound of it combined with the spine-tingling words were like music to my ears. I stared at his gorgeous curved lips—the way they lifted on the corners in a barely there smile. I had imagined kissing them so many times. It took every ounce of my restraint to keep from doing it.

  "No Colton," he repeated.

  I nodded.

  "Friday," he said. "I'm gonna give you a week to decide that you trust me, but come Friday, I'm kissing you. Come Friday, I'm not waiting anymore."

  "Friday's not a week," I said weakly. "Sunday's a week."

  "Friday's long enough," he said. "It's a workweek. And I think that's long enough, don't you?"

  I nodded.

  "Are you gonna change your mind about me between now and then?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "Are you?"

  "No," he said. "Can I text you? Or do I have to stay completely away?"

  "You can text me," I said. "You don't have to stay completely away, it's just that I—"

  "I know."

  He moved to stretch. I thought he was going to reach out and grab me, but he didn't; he just moaned and stretched his arms toward the ceiling.

  "This is going to be the longest five days of my life," he said.

  "You can do it," I said.

  He reached out and gently tugged at my shirt. It was the first time we had connected, and even though our skin wasn't actually touching, I was flooded with desire. "I want you to come to the show at The Rooftop," he said.

  "I forgot that was this weekend." I wasn't pretending to forget. I knew he was playing since they played just about every weekend, but I had forgotten that it was at The Rooftop. That was one of my favorite places to watch bands. I had seen a few other acts play there before I had even met Wes.

  "Do you know where it is?" he asked.

  I nodded. "I've been there several times."

  He smirked at me, which made me smile.

  "I saw The Helpers there, and James Ray twice."

  "What are you doing going to see James Ray?" he asked, looking delightfully jealous.

  "What's wrong with James Ray?"

  Wes didn’t answer. He just gave me a tiny, sly grin. I wanted to melt right then and there.

  "Friday," he said stretching again by bowing his chest.

  "Unless one of us changes our mind," I said.

  I was mostly kidding, and I grinned at him to prove it, but he just stood there and squinted at me.

  "Now you're just playing with my heart," he said.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "You know it won't be me who changes my mind. You must know how I feel about you. You're a smart guy. I'm sure it's no secret."

  "I want to hear you say it, though."

  "Are you asking me to come out and tell you that I like you?"

  He nodded.

  "Fine, I like you," I said.

  "Good," he said with a grin.

  I wanted to ask him to say it back or to do any number of things including but not limited to physically throwing himself at me. I just shrugged. "I guess I'll see you Friday," I said shyly.

  "Yep," he said. "See you Friday."

  Chapter 12

  Wes

  The following days were extremely productive for Wes. He was in love, and he felt inspired and full of energy because of it.

  It was finally Friday, and the past five days had seemed more like a month. He had rearranged his flat, held three emergency band practices, and had written fourteen new songs. Yes, fourteen—good ones, too. Hits. The emergency band practices were a result of the new songs, actually. He wanted to play a few of them at the show at The Rooftop, so he talked his band into adding some extra practice time to their week.

  Wes had been in touch with Jo all week, but only with brief texts. They hadn't seen each other at all, and to him, it felt like torture. He hadn't even noticed how much time he had been spending with her until he wasn't doing it anymore. He felt as though he was going through withdrawals.

  It was now Friday afternoon, and it was just a matter of hours before he saw her. He sent her a text.

  Wes: "What's up?"

  Jolene: "Working. What about you?"

  Wes: "Just bought plane tickets for my trip."

  Jolene: "That's awesome. Did you tell your mom?"

  Wes: "I'm about to call her. I thought about telling her not to tell Owen and the others, but I figure he's got enough going on with the babies coming."

  Jolene: "They're gonna be stoked whether it's a surprise or not."

  Wes: "I saw your new video. Getting fancy with the underhand throw, huh? Like a boss."

  Jolene: "You like that?"

  Wes: "Super hot. You look like a Bond girl."

  Jolene: "Haha."

  Wes: "Today's Friday."

  This text made Jolene smile and bite her lip. She couldn’t wait to see Wes. She had been counting the minutes.

  Jolene: "Yep, it is."

  She had been so composed about it all week, which made Wes even more anxious to see her.

  Wes: "You're coming to my show."

  Jolene: "I know. Luke and Chasidy are coming, too. And Katie and Micah. They all love the venue and invited themselves when I told them about it."

  Wes: "As long as you don't have plans with them afterward."

  Jolene: "I doubt it since it's gonna be late."

  Wes: "Good. I'll give you a ride home."

  Jolene: "Sounds good. I'll ride up there with Luke."

  Wes: "See you then."

  Jolene: "Okay." She added a simple red heart emoji that made Wes smile.

  He paced around his living room for a few seconds before deciding to call his mom.

  Rose Bishop almost always answered her cell phone. She did it for nearly everyone who called, but especially her children. She had slept in, so her voice was still groggy when Wes called.

 
"Hello?" she said, doing her best to make it seem like she was awake and alert.

  "Are you sleeping?" Wes asked.

  "No, I was just laying here. What's going on, baby?"

  "What time is it over there?"

  "Almost eight," she said, glancing at the clock by her bedside.

  "I'm sorry. I thought it was nine," he said.

  "It's fine," she said. "I was up. Is everything all right?"

  "Yes ma'am. I just planned a trip home. I wanted to give you the dates so you could mark the calendar."

  "Aww, good, baby, when?"

  "In a couple of weeks," he said. "And I'm staying for longer than usual."

  "Oh, my goodness, that's great news, Wesley. How long?"

  "Twelve or thirteen days. I think it's just shy of two weeks."

  "Why'd you plan such a long trip? I mean, I'm glad, it's just that usually you only stay about three or four days."

  "I know. That's why I wanted to stay longer this time. Everything's always so busy when I go home that I don't really get that much quality time with you guys. Kip's going to be turning two, and Owen's gonna be having the twins. I don't know. I guess I just wanted to see everybody and have more than a few days to spend with y'all."

  "Oh, Wesley, this really makes my day, baby. I'm so excited. Can I tell everyone? Did you buy the ticket yet?"

  "I did buy the tickets, and, yes, you can tell everyone. You can tell them I'm bringing my girlfriend, too."

  "Your girlfriend? You mean the girl with the knife show?"

  "Jolene, yes. Only she doesn't know she's coming yet. I haven't asked her."

  "Well, you better go ahead if you're coming in two weeks."

  "She'll come," he said. "She really wants to go back to the States, and she sort of loves me."

  Rose giggled. "Who wouldn't?" she asked.

  "She really does, though, Mom. She loves me for real—like past all the motorcycles and music and everything."

  (Rose didn't quite know the extent of what music meant in that statement. Part of her thought he was referring to being related to Ivy or Courtney. In recent weeks, as a result of Jo's influence, Wes had told his mother a little about his music. He made it out to be less of a thing than it was, but she did know that he had been writing songs, playing guitar, and getting gigs. She didn't know how very hard he worked at it or that he was in a band that already had a significant fan base in the UK. He wasn't the type of person who just came out and said things like that.)