A Guide to Being Just Friends(44)

Heat pooled at the base of her neck, making her rethink the whole leave-it-down idea. Up. I should have put my hair up. Down looks like I didn’t try. Up is sexy. She mumbled something—at least she thought she did out loud—to Fiona and pushed through the crowd of women. She needed some air. Head down, the murmur of voices a nauseating buzz, she hurried for the front door. She saw black dress shoes before it registered she was on the straight path to a—

“Oof.” Collision.

Hands gripped her shoulders, gentle but firm. Inhaling sharply, the apology ready to tumble out, her senses immediately calmed. Wes.

Hailey tilted her head back, willing her lungs to resume function. She’d know his scent anywhere. It was like her favorite sweater. Nothing else felt quite the same.

“Hey. That’s one way to make an impression, but I think you’re going the wrong way.”

She shook her head, mini hammers pounding in her temples. “I can’t. This was stupid. I thought I could do it but I can’t.”

“Okay.”

Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. No judgment or censure. Just, okay. She didn’t know what to do with that. So, of course, she babbled.

“I don’t know if I’m ever going to be ready to date again, to put myself out there in a way that tells someone, here’s my heart, it’s available for you to stomp, mess with, and screw up.”

Wes wrapped an arm around her shoulder, led her to the front door. She loved that the air was warm, with just a hint of November chill. Moving them to the side of the art deco building, he braced her against the wall and stepped back, meeting her gaze. His was patient, steady, and caring.

“I wouldn’t make that your opening line,” he said.

Hailey laughed, smacked his chest, then noticed he was dressed very nicely in a crisp blue-and-white-striped polo, a pair of dark gray dress pants, and those shiny black shoes. “You look good.”

“That’s better,” he said. “Start with a genuine ego boost. What else you got?”

She laughed again, the buzzing and pounding in her head receding. “I can’t. Seriously. You look good. Fiona’s in there like it’s a day at the spa. You guys do this. I’ll wait. We’ll eat after.”

“I think you need this more than either of us.”

“Ouch.”

He shook his head, took a step closer so the tips of their shoes were touching. People walked past them, going into the restaurant. “People don’t think California is ever dark. They’re so used to the sun, it’s all they expect. All they see.”

Her brows pushed together. It was sunny here most of the time. Wes’s hand reached out, rested gently on her shoulder, and a different sort of buzz hummed along Hailey’s skin. All the way down to her fingertips.

“It reminds me of you. You’re so positive, so upbeat. I forget you’ve been hurt. That you’ve seen the other side of happiness. You need this, Hailey. Not so you can get a date right away but so you can open the door again. Someday.”

“You didn’t want me to do this. You thought it was dumb. You didn’t want to do it.”

His smile was quiet. She loved that one. “But I’m here. Because you thought it would be good for me. We don’t have to sign over our feelings tonight. We just have to be open to them.”

She poked him in the shoulder. “Suddenly, you’re smart?”

He laughed, dropped his hand. “Actually, I’ve always been smart. Above average across the board.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”

When she stepped forward, his fingers circled her wrist. “You’re okay?”

Taking a deep breath, she let it out. “Yes. No matter what happens, at the end of the night, I don’t have to leave alone.”





18


So much for bowing out gracefully. He’d dressed, second-guessed his agreement the whole way here, and then decided Hailey deserved to have him tell her in person he was out. Except now, he didn’t want to go. Not because he wanted to find a date—he’d rather go back on the apps than this, and that was saying something—but because he wouldn’t ditch his friend.

Even though he’d felt the vibrating hum of tension when he’d seen her, which he recognized as more than just friendly feelings, she was his friend. Outside his siblings, probably his best friend. He truly enjoyed being with her, and seeing her upset like that unnerved him, made him want to fix it. Which, ironically, she’d hate.

He couldn’t fix her past or what hurt her but he could stay and be her wingman. That’s what friends did. Did anyone actually believe this shit? Five minutes for love? Fine. He could admit a spark took less than five minutes but really, what were the statistics on relationships formed in this setting long-term?

As a tall, broad-shouldered man tapped on the microphone, Wes looked over at Hailey. She seemed to be breathing a bit easier now. He’d recognized the panic because he’d been there himself more than once. She smiled, looking so lovely with her hair down, her cheeks adorably flushed. She wore a pair of dark jeans that fit her well, emphasizing her enticing curves. Her floral top had two little strings dangling right between her … what the fuck are you doing? Checking out your friend? He felt mad at himself. The only thing you could offer her unconditionally is what you have between you now.