34. Wes/Nora

THIRTY-FOUR

When I was younger,my mom would sit me down every Friday, and we'd watch a romantic comedy together. After spending the week watching football with my dad or whatever stupid cartoon that rotted my brain, my mom made sure it was important that she instilled some sort of chivalry in me. Most of the films were unrealistic depictions of real life, with mermaids turning into humans and humans turning into frogs, but one thing always stayed the same.

She made me realize how important love is — platonic and romantic. It made me appreciate her and everyone in my life, and I showed it in different ways. Whilst my dad would get a very badly made cup of coffee some mornings, I'd slip my mom's slippers right next to her side of the bed so she could slide right into them when she woke up. I'd make them both Valentine's Day cards at school, and I'd not shut up about how much I cared about them. I was always sensitive like that. I'd get made fun of sometimes, but I mostly pushed it off. I'd much rather love someone loudly than in the quiet where they don't know.

It's different with Nora.

I'm pretty sure I fell in love with Nora Bailey before I could even read properly. Way before I even knew what the word meant, only the soft glowing feeling in my heart that I'd get whenever she was around. She had chubby cheeks, faint freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose, and long brown hair that I wanted to touch so badly. She was always talking, laughing, trying to make sure everybody stayed friends. She'd hold meetings during recess to discuss why people weren't friends and how to fix their problems. She always made time for me and made me feel like I could tell her anything. She made me feel like I could be anything, and she'd be right there with me.

Until she got a boyfriend, and I stopped seeing her as much. We'd still try to hang out, and I'd put myself in situations where I thought she'd come running and help me out. I'd flirt with her, tell her how gorgeous she was, make jokes about kissing her, and she'd laugh and ignore me. I'd do anything to get her to notice me.

Now, as we walk through a record store, Nora's holding my hand, and she finally sees me.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I watched her fall apart in my lap this morning, and now she's walking around, humming to whatever song is playing on the speakers, in a cute as fuck pink skirt. I might get kicked out of here for public indecency or some shit with the raging hard-on she's given me by just breathing.

She stops at the Pop section and holds up a record for me. "What about this one? Have you heard any songs from this?"

"Yeah, when we were in high school," I say, laughing from the other side of the rows of vinyls. She frowns. It's Starboy by The Weeknd. "I'll get it for you if you want it."

She snorts. "Vinyls are expensive and I already have it downloaded, anyway. Save your money, Wessy. You don't have a job, remember?"

"And neither do you," I argue.

She smirks. "Touché."

"So you just want to come here and browse? You don't buy anything?" I ask, walking around to meet her on her side.

She shakes her head. "I don't have a record player."

"What? I thought you wanted to come here so you could buy something."

She just laughs, the sound harmonic and light. "Not really. I just really like music."

"Yeah?" I step in closer to her, and she nods. I wrap my arm around her waist, watching as she slowly peers up at me. "Well, I just really like you."

I press my lips to hers, and everything fades away. It's just the two of us and our desperate need to always be with each other. Our moment of peace is interrupted by a very loud "EWWWW!"

Our eyes shoot open to find two little girls standing with a basket full of storybooks. They both hold one handle each as if the basket is too heavy or they just like doing everything together. They're fucking adorable. The girl with brown hair has her hand across her eyes, and the ginger one is staring up at me with wide eyes as if she's never seen a human before. Nora laughs at the horrified look on their faces, but I crouch down to them.

"What's got you in a bind, little one?" I ask, looking back up at Nora and then back to the girls.

The one with brown hair uncovers her eyes. "You two were kissing," she whispers.

"Yup," I answer. She pulls a face. The redhead smiles. "Are you going to arrest me?"

She crosses her arms against her chest. "I might!"

"I'd like to see you try," I argue. She just holds her chin up as if she's too good of an officer to arrest me.

The redhead taps my shoulder. "Um, Sir?" I nod, trying my hardest not to laugh. "Are you a prince?"

"Definitely not," Nora says. I look up at her, and she just shrugs as if it's not a big deal. I don't know who these kids are, but I want them to think highly of me. I want to impress them in some strange way.

"Then why are you two kissing? I thought only a prince and princesses could kiss," she says quietly, twisting her tiny foot into the carpet.

"Well, maybe she's a princess, and she's the one saving me. She could have a secret identity for all I know," I whisper to them. They both gasp.

"For real?" the redhead asks, her blue eyes lighting up. I nod my head a little too hard, and she giggles.

"I don't buy it," the brunette says, still holding her chin up to me.

"I guess we'll have to kiss again and see if I turn into a real prince," I joke. Both of their hands fly out, shaking them at us.

"No! No. Please don't!"

I laugh, throwing my head back. "Okay, okay. I won't."

"Lizzy? Gracie?" A tall brunette woman comes into my view, and she sighs when she sees the two girls laughing at me. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. They are little terrors. I take my eyes off them for a minute, and they go harassing strangers."

"We don't mind," Nora says when I stand to my feet.

"Yeah, looks like you've got yourself two princesses," I say, winking at them. They both start giggling again, sounding slightly evil.

"More like little witches, but thank you," the woman says, gesturing for them to follow her. God, I love kids. They're so funny and innocent and weirdly easy to talk to. Maybe that's because a part of me still feels like a kid myself.

Nora tugs on my arm. "I'm a princess now, huh?"

"Of course you are. I was convinced you were one when we were kids. Now that you're my girlfriend, it's pretty fitting."

"And I'm your girlfriend? How did I get so lucky?"

"Wait. Shit. I was supposed to ask you properly. I had this whole speech planned, and I was supposed to tell you how–" She leans up and kisses me, cutting off every single sane thought in my brain. When she slips her tongue into my mouth, I groan and pull apart. "Just let me ask you, woman."

"Okay," she says, her dimples pulled right in. I lift her hand, slowly sinking down to my knees. Her eyes widen. "Wesley Mackenzie, you better stand up right now."

"Okay, okay," I laugh. I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. "Will you, Nora Emma Bailey, make me the happiest man in the world and be my girlfriend?"

Her eyes light up. "Since you asked so nicely," she murmurs, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Hell yeah, I'll be your girlfriend, Wes."

I think I might pass out.

I one hundred percent understand where Cat is coming from when she said that seeing men with kids turns her on. Because holy fuck. If I didn't think it would get me arrested, I would have pounced on Wes. He just looks so comfortable. So natural. Which is weird because he has no younger siblings or any cousins that live close by. It's like he was born to do that. Then, he had the audacity to ask me to be his girlfriend.

I'm convinced he wants me to die.

I don't think I get any more words out until we've ordered two strawberry ice creams at the parlor across the street. The sun is hot on my skin. My bare legs are finally starting to get the tan they've been desperate for.

Wes is trying to tell me about how I should invest in a record player, but I keep getting distracted by his lips. He keeps licking the ice cream very… suggestively. Even when he's finished, I'm still thinking about the way he was licking it. Was it suggestive, or am I just a horny woman who is most definitely obsessed with her boyfriend?

Boyfriend. That word only belongs to Wes, and I feel like such an idiot for calling anyone but him that. Everything about him makes him the perfect boyfriend, and I can't believe I didn't realize earlier that it's always been him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asks, slowing our walk down as he looks over at me.

I shrug. "No reason."

He bumps his shoulder into mine. "Nora."

"Wes," I mock, bumping him back as I laugh.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing," I say quietly, trying not to laugh at the serious look on his face. "You just… lick ice cream in a very sexual way, and it's distracting."

He chuckles. "That's what is making you hot under the collar? Because I'm eating ice cream."

The mischievous smirk on his lips makes me roll my eyes. I turn away from him. "See. This is why I need to keep my thoughts to myself."

His breath hovers over my neck, goosebumps spreading everywhere. "I can lick you in a very sexual way."

I gasp, holding my hand to my chest and spinning on my heels to face him. "Are you flirting with me right now, Wesley?" I ask, humor lacing my tone.

He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into him as he drops his forehead to mine. "Finally," he groans. "It's about time you noticed. When am I not flirting with you, Nora?" I giggle, pushing apart from him, but he pulls me into him anyway, keeping his arms tight around my waist. "I've got you now, and I'm not letting you go."

I swallow back the emotion in my throat. "Never?"

"Never ever. Even if the world split in two and we were on different planets."

"Even then?"

"Even then," he confirms, kissing me deeply. The promise makes me feel a million times lighter because he's right. There's nothing in this world that could break what we have. Our relationship has been built on friendship and trust for years, and now it's flourishing in an entirely different way.

A slow round of applause interrupts the moment. We're both startled for a second, our bubble bursting as we turn to the sound. Ryan is standing in front of us, swaying slightly as he slurs, "Fantastic. Amazing. Show-stopping, really."

"Ryan. What a nice surprise," I say, not an iota of interest in my tone. I thought we had buried the hatchet a long time ago. We've not spoken since the show, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't have any space in my life for him anymore. I'm not sure why I ever made space for him in the first place. He's like a rock in my shoe – every time I think I've gotten him out, he pops right back up again.

"Not really a surprise. We live in the same part of town," he replies.

"You're right, we do," I say calmly. I don't want his weird energy to ruin the good day I'm having, and the fact that he's even in my presence is making me uneasy. I hook my arm around Wes's waist, ready to vacate whatever this is. "We're just going to?—"

"Hey, I'm just saying congratulations. You know, now that you're happy and everything." I smile tightly, nodding as I try to side-step us out of his way. The sidewalk is only so big, and we're on one of the busiest streets in town. It's not exactly the place for small talk with my ex. "Daisy dumped me."

His voice doesn't sound anything like he usually does, and he smells like beer. His outfit is disheveled, and I notice the bags under his eyes. "Are you drunk?" I ask. He just waves me off, giving me his answer. "It's one in the afternoon."

Wes's arm tightens on my shoulder when Ryan steps into me. "Did you hear me? She dumped me."

I hold my head up. "I heard you. I just don't care." Hurt flashes in his eyes as I take another step forward. "Now, if you'll excuse us. We're trying to leave."

Ryan shakes his head so fast it's giving me a headache just looking at him. "No, no, no. This is your fault, Bailey. You're the one that broke up with me and now look at all the shit I'm in. She was only with me for the sake of the show. Can you believe that?"

His words aren't coming out very clearly, and there are tears lining his eyes. The part of me that still wants to treat him as a human aches a little, so I say, "Sorry to hear that, but for the third time, we're trying to go."

Ryan's face turns red as he lunges towards me. "You snarky little bi?—"

Wes steps in front of me, holding his hand up to Ryan's chest. "You better watch your tone when you're talking to my girl," he snarls.

Ryan's cliché comeback is, "We're just talking."

Wes shakes his head. "I'm standing right here, bud. She's done talking to you." As much as I usually like fighting my own battles, I kind of like the way Wes is standing up for me right now. He steps in closer to Ryan, their faces achingly close together as I peer around them. "Leave."

"You're not going to tell me what to do," Ryan argues, pushing Wes out of the way. My eyes widen, and my heartbeat hammers against my chest when his huge hand wraps around my bicep. I blink up at him as he tugs onto me. Hard. "Nora, get your dog under control before?—"

I don't even blink before Wes pulls Ryan off me and pins him against the brick wall of the florist we're outside. Wes has his arm up against Ryan's neck, almost choking him as his face turns pale. "You don't get to fucking touch her. You don't get to speak to her like that, and, really, you shouldn't even be looking at her if you still want your eyeballs in their sockets."

There's a beat of silence, and when I look at the crowd that's started to emerge from their argument, I press my palm onto Wes's lower back. "Wes, leave it," I whisper, and just at the sound of my voice, he eases off. He's still against the wall, but he doesn't look like he's about to beat the shit out of him. "Ryan, just go."

He shakes his head again. "No. You need to understand that I still want you."

His words make me wince, reminding me of all the times he's said that and never meant it. Of all the times I believed he'd change. Wes leans into his face again, keeping his voice low as he says, "Do you not know how to listen? She said leave, so leave."

Ryan's oddly calm as he swerves out of Wes's grip, brushing off his shirt. He turns to walk away, and Wes turns back to me, letting out a deep breath. I force myself to calm my racing pulse, but it's only a second late when Ryan turns back around, pushes Wes up against the wall, and punches him right in the face.

I don't even recognize my own scream when it leaves my mouth. I lurch towards them, but Wes shouts at me to stay back. He's just letting Ryan hit him like he's done something wrong when he hasn't. My ears are ringing, feeling like the entire world has gone silent as I painfully watch Wes get beaten like a punching bag. People are staring now, debating whether or not they should interfere.

He gets a few more blows in, and I see Ryan's mouth move as he spits something in Wes's face. And then Wes punches back. And he doesn't stop.

I'm standing there, emotionless, watching strangers interfere as they try to break up the fight. For what it's worth, Wes looks like he's winning. Each time I think they're going to stop, Ryan proves that he's always going to want the last word. He has a knack for those things but not enough balls to stay around when police sirens sound in the distance.