6. HAZEL 4 years ago

6

HAZEL 4 years ago

I've been living in my own apartment off campus. I'm in my junior year and school work has become increasingly harder to keep up with so the time alone is much needed. I miss living with Rebecca and Sterling but since deciding to go pre-med, I know my classes will only get harder for me. If I can graduate now and move into my master's for nursing, I'll be happy. But it's going to require a lot of hard work and time alone.

I've fallen in love with Magnolia Point and now I'm begging my best friend Nina from back home to move here with me. She still won't make the leap, but I won't give up on her, she's my missing piece here in this town.

The only visitor I seem to have lately is Wes and just as that thought passes my mind, I hear a knock on the door before he calls out, "Hey, friend!"

I stand at my stove, stirring the pot of homemade sauce my mom taught me to make at a young age, and call back to him, "Friend! I'm in here!"

I giggle at his reference to our over exaggerated friendship. It's been almost two years since I've known him, and we've grown close. I enjoy every little silly thing he has to say, along with the important things. Like hearing about when he was ten years old, and his cousin Jay was five and fell into the lake behind their homes. He made a joke about how fast he sank to the bottom and how heavy he was to bring back to the surface, but I know it stuck with him as a terrifying moment.

Or the time he was teaching Maverick to drive and instead of the brake he hit the gas pedal and the two of them crashed. I know he felt guilt over it because he told me he was worried Maverick would never want to drive with him again. Those important things are few and far between, but they do give me a little insight into his character, which makes me like him that much more.

Wes never wants to fail anyone that counts on him. That's what makes him an amazing friend and family member. And I'm lucky to know him.

"What's going on here? It smells so good." I step away from the stove as he comes close and we give a quick hug. I inhale his scent quickly, smelling his signature cologne and try not to get distracted. "Are you making my favorite sauce again?" He squeezes my biceps before distancing himself from me.

"You know it! I knew you'd be over today, so I got up early and started slaving over this stove!"

"Oh yeah, how did you know?" He stands with his hands on his hips assessing me and it's such a sexy move. Powerful and in charge.

"It's December first and?—"

He claps his hands together loudly before rubbing them back and forth and with a big grin, yells, "Gift me, baby."

I dissolve into giggles. This phrase has become our little inside joke since that first day at the coffee shop. Christmas is mine and Wes' favorite time of year and I like to remind him that our first "friendship date" was on December first. I also like to remind him that I gave him a gift of a second chance to be my friend—Jay and Maverick especially like that part. They call me "spicy nice" because I'm the only one who can keep up with his banter, dishing it out and taking it at the same time.

"I'm making your favorite to kick off the giving season."

"I love the giving season," he says while waggling his brows.

We always have a lot of teasing banter back-and-forth with one another. I know it doesn't mean anything to him because that's just how he deflects his feelings. He's continued to reference our different stages in life, like pointing out how he'd rather do my homework than pay a mortgage, but I just have to let things play out. Would I love to go on a date? Would I love to see if we can make something work? Of course. But I have to accept that if I want him in my life, it's going to be as friends only.

"Speaking of giving, thank you for taking my car to the shop."

"What are you talking about?" He's not looking at me and I know he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"I'm talking about the new sticker in my window giving me an updated mileage for my next oil change."

He shrugs. "You were over by fifteen hundred miles."

I smile. "Thank you for noticing. So, what's going on? Are you out of work for the day?"

"Yep, we just finished up a job down at Riverside Cafe and now I'm off for the weekend. My uncle and dad are covering. They're giving us boys a break for the next three days."

Wes works for the HVAC company that his family owns. I love that about him and it just gives me more insight into the man he is. He won't ever leave this town for fear of disappointing his family. Failure and disappointing others are big character traits of his and the thought has crossed my mind a time or two of that being the reason he won't make a move on me, let alone become serious with anyone else.

I get lost in the appearance of him. He's worn that hint of a five o'clock shadow every day since I met him and his hair is always a bit disheveled. His jeans are dirty but the rolled up sleeves showing off his forearms distracts me from the grease and mud. Luckily, he's considerate of his mess and always kicks off his boots before he walks through the door. Having him stand here in my kitchen feels so domestic and I have to shake myself from the trance he always seems to hold over me.

Quickly I turn back to the pot, stirring it slowly as he walks to the fridge to grab a beer. I keep it stocked with his favorite stouts for when he comes over. He sits down at the table, turning the chair to face me, one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him.

He takes a long drink from his bottle then asks, "How were your classes today?"

"They were good. We're wrapping up a few short papers before finals and then I'll be done for four weeks. It'll be good to just relax a bit and catch up on reality TV."

"Maybe instead of binge-watching television shows," he says sarcastically. "You should take a singing class."

"That bar happens to love my singing."

I spin on him, pointing my wooden spoon at him and he puts his hands up in defense. "Don't get crazy now. I think they just love watching you jump around on stage. I know I do."

"You say the nicest things, Wes. Careful, I may start to think you like me." I take care of checking the food and I hear a sigh come from him. "What are your plans this weekend now that you're off?"

"I need to do some laundry and things around my house," he says offhandedly.

"Any hot dates?"

I grab a couple bowls to keep myself busy, not wanting to actually hear the answer to that question. I methodically fill the bowls with pasta and sauce, and he sits up straighter as I place both bowls in front of him, adding silverware from the drawer.

"Thank you," he says and immediately digs in to eat. "Yes, I'm going out tomorrow night."

"Someone new?"

His eyes flit to mine and back to his food as I slide into the chair opposite him with my own bowl."Kind of. I knew her from high school, but we weren't in the same circle of friends."

"Different age groups?" I ask a bit snidely.

"No, just different friend groups." He eyes me. "She's my age."

"That's good. Someone with years of responsibility." I drawl out.

He huffs a laugh but doesn't look at me. "We'll see. It's just dinner. We all have to eat right?"

"Yes, we do."

My kitchen grows silent and is thick with tension. But I'm sure it's only from my side. He seems nonchalant and it's just another passing day for him, whereas I sit, wondering why I can't be that woman tomorrow night.