Every Kiss(43)

“Who are you?”

He just laughs at me, this time unfazed by the question. He twirls a finger in the air until I turn around, and he clasps the necklace, lifting my hair around it when he’s done. “You’ll have to do the earrings. I don’t know how they work.”

Wes watches as I put them in, cringing a little as I poke them through the holes in my earlobes. “As always. Beautiful.”

“Thank you, but Wes, I can’t accept—”

“Don’t even start that,” he interrupts. “You can and you will. Now let’s get out of here before Shane and Makenna end up in her fuzzy, pink bedroom and make us late.”





FOR SOME REASON, I thought the banquet would be held at his parents’ house, but it’s actually in a convention center. After a long hour of admiring the extravagant décor and listening to animated speeches, I still don’t know what the purpose of the whole thing is. Wes and Shane have been busy mingling with the guests as they were told, while Makenna and I sip water from crystal glasses at a table in the back corner as we watch everyone.

Obviously, everyone in this room has money. A lot of it. And I feel really out of place. My parents aren’t poor, quite the contrary, really. My dad is an engineer and my mom is a dermatologist. They do okay. But these people make me feel like I’m a hobo on the street, and I don’t like it.

“Callie, I want you to come with me and meet someone.” Wes appears at my side and takes my glass from me, setting it down on the table.

I stand and look back at Makenna, who is now being whisked away by Shane. “Oh, okay. Who is it?”

“My mom.”

Shaking my head, I back away from him. “No, no, no. I don’t think I need to do that.”

“Why the hell not? She wants to meet you.”

“I’m nervous,” I admit. “All of this . . .” I point around the room. “This isn’t me.”

He leans close and whispers in my ear, his warm breath puffing against my hair. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s not her favorite either. Come on.”

Resigned, I allow him to lead me away, surprised when he stops to grab two glasses of champagne from a server’s tray. With both tucked between the fingers of one hand, he continues across the room until he pushes through a door leading to an empty ballroom. It appears to be decorated for a wedding reception or something. The only light comes from the thousands of little twinkling bulbs strung across the high ceiling.

“Here, drink this. It tastes like shit, but it will calm your nerves a little bit, and you’ll care a little less about the snooty people out there.” He shoves one glass into my hand and tilts it toward my mouth.

I take a tiny sip and feel the bubbles dancing against the roof of my mouth. “You know I’m not twenty-one for a few weeks, right?”

“Didn’t stop you at my birthday party, now, did it? Just drink it.”

I shrug and lift the flute to my lips, drinking until it’s empty.

“Good,” Wes encourages, trading my empty glass for the full one. “Now this one. All of it.”

“Well, Wesley Baxter, it appears you’re trying to get me drunk.”

“Not a chance. Just loosening you up a little. You don’t normally care what anybody thinks, and you shouldn’t be any different with these people . . . or my mom.” He pauses to take the other glass from me. “Better?”

I nod. Since I haven’t eaten yet, I can feel the warmth of the alcohol already hitting my bloodstream.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone for a while, but I’m yours the rest of the evening. And I know I already told you this, but I meant it. You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re horrible at not flirting, but you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Flirting?” A conflicted look sweeps over his face before he reaches out and takes my hand, slipping it into his jacket to cover his heart. “Callie, do you feel that?”

The steady thrum of his heart is pulsing wildly. “Yeah.”

“You do that to me. Every single time you’re around. No matter how many times I tell myself that we can only be friends. No matter how many times I try not to let you get to me. I can’t make it stop. I’m not just flirting with you. You slay me, and it takes everything I have in me to keep you from seeing it. But I can tell you want it, too. Please just admit that to me.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He squeezes my hand against his chest and runs the other hand through his hair. “I wish I could give you what it is that you want, what you deserve. I swear I do, Callie. But I can’t make a commitment to you, not the way you would need me to. I won’t lie to you; I can’t do the boyfriend thing. So I’m laying it all out there. Right now. No games. You just admitted that you want me, and I sure as hell want you, so can’t we just start with that? But I’m always going to be totally straight with you. I can’t make you any promises. I don’t want to use you, but in essence, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing.”