31. Nora

THIRTY-ONE

"Let's go,let's go, let's go!"

You'd think that making plans with someone four days ago would give them more than enough time to get ready to go out. But if your friends are anything like mine, then they need another hour on top of their designated time to get ready.

The boys have invited us over for dinner, and it'll be good for all of us to hang out again. Cat is constantly moving between their house and our dorm and working. Elle lives in the studio and at the gym. Wes is still working hard on finding more interviews or a course that interests him. Now that I've stopped rehearsals and I'm preparing for my end-of-year exams, this might be the last time we get to hang out as a group.

I'm standing next to the door, my hands on my hips, when Elle and Cat finally materialize from their rooms.

"Someone's excited," Elle murmurs, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

I roll my eyes. "Sorry, I'm desperate to see my boyfriend."

Cat narrows her eyes at me. "Fake boyfriend," she corrects. I just shrug. "Oh, wait. Isn't the contract over since the shows are done?"

I bite my bottom lip. "Well, uh, sort of. We're just—" I clear my throat. I told them about what happened at Wes's interview, but I'm honestly not completely sure what is going on with us. So, I add, "We're friends. That I know for sure."

"Friends who fuck," Elle says, laughing as she meets us at the door.

"Not exactly."

"Do you want that?" Cat asks gently.

"I dunno," I mumble, thinking about every single moment we've shared up until now. The way he makes me feel like I"m glowing. The way he's always made me feel that way, and I've been too in my head to notice it. I shrug. "I think I just want Wes."

Cat and Elle's eyes light up at my words, and they surround me in seconds, pulling me into a tight hug. I'd tell them to get off me, but I like it a little too much. Their warmth can't be compared to anything else. It's inherently theirs, and I wish I could feel it around me forever.

"Finally," Elle sighs.

"Jesus, you're so in love with him it makes me sick," Cat says. I push them both off me, smoothing out my sweater.

I ignore the way my heart starts to race and open the door. "Whatever. Let's just go."

When we walk upto the house, we all look at each other because something feels insanely wrong. The whole front yard is covered in confetti, balloons, and a huge birthday banner is slung across the front of the house.

"Whose birthday is it?" Cat asks, stepping over the decorations as we make our way through the house. It's eerily quiet for a birthday party.

"I've got no idea. Wes's birthday isn't until June, and I doubt he's arrogant enough to host it months in advance," I mumble, laughing at the thought.

More decorations scatter the living room, and a ton of jackets are thrown around haphazardly. How many people have been invited to this thing? I thought Connor was just going to cook us some food like he usually does, not host an entire party. There's no music playing. There's no loud voices like there would be at a party. Connor appears down the hallway, shaking his head like he doesn't know that we're here.

"Are we missing someone's birthday?" Elle asks, looking visibly anxious at the thought.

"It's the cat's birthday," Connor grumbles when he sees us. He helps Cat out of her jacket, kissing her on the forehead as he ushers us toward the back door.

"You mean Jarvis?" I laugh.

"Yup." He slides open the door to the backyard, and my mouth drops open. "Wes rallied the team to come to help out since, apparently, everyone has pets these days."

I try to get my brain to catch up with what I'm witnessing, but it's insanely difficult. Most of the football team at Drayton sits in a circle on the grass with an array of pets in their laps as they dress them up, clean off their paws, and comb their fur. This feels like a fever dream.

Of course, Wes is sitting there with Jarvis in his lap, petting him as he watches the rest of the boys get to work. Cat and Elle are in a fit of hysterical laughter beside me and I'm still trying to believe what I'm seeing.

"Connie?" Cat calls as he tries to walk back into the house. He turns back around. "Are you ready to be a dad?"

"What?" He gawks, his eyes bulging. Elle and I snicker.

"I'm not pregnant or anything, but I, like, really want you to put a baby in me now," she mumbles. "Whatever the hell this is, is fucking up my hormones."

"Sweetheart, you know I'd give you anything you want, but this is the one thing you have to ask me again in a couple of years," Connor says, laughing as he leans down to kiss her on the forehead.

"Whatever," she says, pushing him away from her. "Go and be a grump somewhere else. You clearly don't get what it's like to see a man with a pet or with babies. What do you have against pets, anyway?"

"They're messy and loud, and they remind me too much of Wes and his chaos."

"I'm messy and loud," she challenges.

"That"s different. You're mine, Cat. I don't care if you're messy and loud."

Elle lets out a sitcom-worthy sigh, and I gag. "That was sweet," Cat murmurs, leaning up to kiss my brother. Gross.

"I'm going to kill Wes for putting these images in your mind," Connor grumbles, tugging her closer to him.

"Do you guys want to keep telling me how perfectly okay it is to still be a virgin? Because there's about twenty men here sitting with their pets, and I want to fuck all of them," Elle says. I just blink at her, my mouth popping open. "See? I thought not."

"You've got twenty options now, Elle-Belle," I say, gesturing towards the array of men in front of us. "I'm confident they'll all be on their knees for you if you give them one look."

"You know what?" Elle starts, shimming her shoulders. "I'm going to give it a try."

Connor eventually comes aroundand sits with one of his teammates husky, and Cat watches him with hearts in her eyes. I've made my way around nearly all of the pets, marveling over someone's pet snake and lizard as they've got little bow ties on them. It's fucking adorable.

Not so adorable? One of the boys is sitting with a very angry-looking pug in his lap with an equally angry look on his face. I scooch closer to him, scratching the dog on the head.

"What's this fella"s name?" I ask his owner. The boy just sighs.

"Bruce. He bites. I'd stay away from him if I were you," he explains, but I'm not frightened that easily. I look up at the boy, and I realize that he doesn't look angry. Just bored. Like he'd much rather be spending his Thursday night literally anywhere else. What in the world does Wes say to these people to get them to do what he wants? His features look insanely familiar, and I can't put my finger on it.

"Wait," I mumble, putting his features together. I can't remember his first name, but I know where "You're Michael Cohen's son."

"Yeah…." He tears back, looking at me up and down. "You're not, like, a crazy football fan, are you?"

I snort. "God, no. I'm just friends with these idiots."

He hums. "I thought you were Wes's girlfriend."

I look up to find Wes lying on his back, sunglasses covering his eyes, and Jarvis curled up on his chest. They look so perfect together. Watching them makes my heart twinge with a feeling I've never felt before, like a tiny fire that I need to put out.

"Yeah," I murmur, "That too."

After engaging in some talk with Hayes, I make my way around the circle again. Elle has been trying to convince Archer to play with one of the animals, but he's not budging. I'm convinced she's doing it for her own fantasies to replay in her head because trying to argue with Archer is like talking to a wall.

I sit down next to Wes, and he's still lying on his back. I poke him in the cheek, and he lifts the sunglasses onto his forehead. "Hi," I say.

He grins. "Hi, Sunshine."

"What is all this?" I laugh, gesturing to the space we're in.

"It's his birthday," is his answer, stroking Jarvis as he purrs quietly. I continue staring at the two of them, still confused as to why most of the football team are here. "So, he's getting treated like a king. He might be getting old, but he needs some friends, too."

My chest expands at the sentiment. "You really care about him, huh?"

"Yup." He crosses his arms behind his head. His biceps distract me for a second before my eyes connect with his. "He's one of the four groups of people I care about. There are my friends, my family, and him."

"You said four," I correct. "What about the fourth one?"

The smile on his face falters a little as he whispers, "You."

I cover the sweetness of his words with humor, "I get my own group? How kind."

He shakes his head, laughing. "You're always going to be different from everybody else, Nora."

"Different isn't always a good thing."

"It is to me."

It's those words that seem to start slowly patching up the hole in my heart. The one that has been tearing more and more every day. Wes manages to make all the parts of myself that I hate seem beautiful. He makes me feel beautiful, and he doesn't even have to do anything. It's just him.