Chapter 2
1270 Words
Brianna’s POV
“What are you doing here?”
Wesley’s voice snapped me out of my stunned state.
I blinked rapidly and looked up at him.
He had lowered the baseball bat, though he still held it loosely in one hand. Water continued to drip from the ends of his damp dark hair, tracing a path down his neck.
Unfortunately, my eyes had other ideas.
They wandered.
Again.
They skimmed over his broad shoulders before quickly darting away.
Only for them to betray me and drift right back.
God.
When had Wesley Cross turned into… this?
The lanky handsome teenager I remembered had disappeared completely.
In his place stood a man who looked like he belonged on magazine covers.
He snapped his fingers in front of my face.
“Up here, you perv.”
My eyes widened.
“What?” I sputtered. “Me? You’re calling me a perv?”
I pointed accusingly at him.
“You were the one taking a shower in my room! In my brother’s house!”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Technically,” he said in an annoyingly calm tone, “this has been my room for the last two days.”
His hazel eyes settled on me.
“How was I supposed to know it was yours?”
I opened my mouth then closed it and opened it again.
“…Two days?”
He nodded.
I stared at him.
Why hadn’t Damian mentioned that Wesley freaking Cross was staying here?
Of all the details to forget.
My brother had somehow neglected to tell me that my childhood crush.. the same crush I’d never completely gotten over was currently living under the same roof.
Fantastic.
Wesley shifted awkwardly.
“Uh…”
His gaze flickered toward the bathroom.
“Do you mind?” he asked dryly. “I’d like to get dressed.”
My face heated instantly.
“Oh! Right. Sorry!”
I turned to get my phone off the bed and leave.
At least, that had been the plan.
The scarf I’d dropped earlier during my panic chose that exact moment to wrap around my ankle.
My foot caught.
“Oh!”
My balance disappeared.
A startled scream escaped my lips as my arms flailed wildly.
I braced myself for impact.
Only… that I never hit the floor.
Instead, I collided with something solid.
Warm yet very solid.
My eyes widened.
Wesley had caught me.
One arm steadied my waist while the other kept me from falling backward.
For one suspended second, neither of us moved.
I became acutely aware of everything.
The scent of fresh soap. The dampness from his recent shower. The steady rise and fall of his breathing.
The closeness was too damn close.
Heat rushed into my cheeks.
“Um…” I whispered.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded quickly “Y-Yeah.”
He slowly helped me straighten.
The second my feet found stable ground again, I practically leapt away from him.
His expression looked equally unsettled.
Bending down, he grabbed the towel he’d almost lost during the commotion and adjusted it securely before clearing his throat.
“You should probably go,” he said.
Right.
Leave… I needed to leave Immediately.
“I’m so sorry!” I blurted.
I rushed toward the bed, snatched up my phone, and practically sprinted from the room.
The door slammed shut behind me.
I leaned against it heavily.
My heart raced so violently I was convinced it would burst from my chest.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
I pressed both hands against my burning face.
This couldn’t be happening.
Not only had I attacked Wesley with a baseball bat.
Not only had I stared at him repeatedly.
I’d also nearly fallen into his arms.
My childhood crush had apparently evolved into the kind of man romance novels were written about.
How was I supposed to survive living in the same house with him?
I pushed myself away from the door.
No.
Stop it, Brianna.
Wesley was Damian’s best friend.
He’s practically family.
Besides, whatever silly feelings I’d once had were ancient history.
Right?
Right.
I marched downstairs toward the kitchen.
The cool air from the refrigerator greeted me as I opened it and grabbed a bottle of water.
I twisted off the cap and took several long gulps.
My phone rang.
Damian.
“Oh, now you call,” I muttered before answering.
“Hey, Bree!” Damian said cheerfully. “Did you arrive safely?”
I glanced toward the kitchen entrance instinctively.
No Wesley.
Good, now I can vent.
“Yes,” I said. “I got here in one piece.”
There was a pause.
“Everything okay? You sound different.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me Wesley was staying here?”
Silence.
“…Oops.”
“Oops?”
“I forgot.”
“You forgot?” I repeated incredulously.
“You forgot to mention that Wesley freaking Cross is living in your apartment?”
“It slipped my mind.”
“Damian!”
He laughed nervously.
“Look, Wes had a huge fight with his dad,” he explained. “He’s staying there for a while until things settle down.”
I sighed.
Of course, Wesley had a reason.
That didn’t change the fact that I’d been ambushed by his existence.
Damian suddenly became suspiciously quiet.
Then he asked, “You don’t still have that ridiculous crush on him, do you?”
I nearly choked on my water.
“What?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“I was twelve!”
“You used to follow him around like a lost puppy, yet you hid behind me the moment he threw you as much as a simple glance.”
“I absolutely did not!”
“You made him friendship bracelets which you ended up not giving him.”
“I was trying to be nice!”
“You cried when he left for college.”
“Damian!”
He laughed loudly.
“So?”
“No,” I lied immediately. “I don’t have a crush on Wesley anymore.”
“…You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Hmm.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Anyway, when are you coming back?”
The amusement disappeared from his voice.
“About that… something came up.”
A familiar sense of dread settled in my stomach.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve got to stay for the entire NBA tour.”
I blinked.
“The entire month?”
“I’m sorry, Bree.”
“What? Damian, you can’t just leave me here..”
“I have to go. Coach’s calling the team.. We’ll talk later!”
“Damian..”
The line disconnected.
I stared at my phone in disbelief.
“He hung up on me.”
I lowered the phone slowly and then groaned.
“This is unbelievable.”
I dropped my head back dramatically.
“How am I supposed to stay in the same house with someone as hot as Wesley?”
A throat cleared behind me.
I froze.
Slowly, I turned around.
Wesley stood near the kitchen entrance.
Fully dressed now in dark jeans and a fitted black T-shirt.
One hand tucked casually into his pocket.
His lips curved upward.
“How long have you been there?” I asked weakly.
His smile widened.
“Long enough,” he said, hazel eyes gleaming with amusement, “to hear you call me hot.”
My heart stopped.
Then immediately restarted at double speed.
I stared at him in horror.
One thought echoed through my mind.
“s**t!”
- Writer
