37. Nora

THIRTY-SEVEN

Tryingto find someone who will move into our dorm is nothing like the Pitch Perfect auditions. I knew Cat was joking about making these poor girls sing Kelly Clarkson's hit song, but I thought she'd actually make it fun.

All we've done this afternoon is sit in one of the common areas on campus after contacting some people off the waitlist. Cat and Elle organized the whole thing whilst I was helping Wes prep for another interview that he's got this afternoon.

Since being with Wes, I've had more orgasms than I had in the five years with Ryan, and I've returned Wes the favor more than once. Those that said sex can improve your mood were right. I've felt a million times lighter over the past few days, and it's all thanks to Wes. I can't wait to pester him with questions later since he said that he'll wait for me at my dorm when his interview has finished. Just the thought of him waiting for me in my room is enough to make my heart race.

That was until reality sank in, and I was left exhausted after talking to over a dozen girls who Elle and I have nothing in common with. We're just trying to suss out the vibes and no one is really hitting the mark.

I drop my head to Cat's shoulder. "How many more people are left? I want to go home."

"Only a few more left, little one," she coos, patting my head.

"I'm getting tired too. I had a whole day of practice just to deal with this shit," Elle mumbles on the other end of the couch.

"You know how we could easily solve this problem?" I chirp.

Cat raises her eyebrow. "How?"

"You can just stay with us," I say sweetly. "Don't move in with him, please?"

"Pleasseeee," Elle joins in.

"You're both ridiculous," Cat says, pushing both of our faces away from her. Something catches her gaze on the other end of the room before she glances down at her laptop and then back to a dark-haired girl that's walking towards us. "I think this is one of the next girls."

"Hey, you're the girls interviewing for a spare room in the dorms, right?" The girl asks when she gets to us. She's got dark brown hair and headphones slung around her neck. It's hard to tell if she's smiling or frowning. It might just be the heat, but her entire face is covered in freckles, and her outfit gives the opposite vibes for summer. She's dressed head to toe in black, with a red ribbon tied around her headphones. Odd.

"Hi. It's June, right?" Cat asks, beaming up at her.

"Yeah," she replies, sitting down at the edge of the opposite couch.

"That's a really pretty name," Elle says, clearly fangirling over her. June smiles then, and it makes my chest deflate. Resting bitch faces scare the shit out of me.

She shrugs. "Thanks. It's kinda stupid. I don't get what joy my parents got out of naming their only child after a month. The worst part is I was born in October. On Halloween, actually."

"No way. I was born on Halloween, too," I gasp.

Her eyes widen. "It's the worst, right? I mean, everyone wants to go to a party or go out, but I just want to sit at home and do nothing, you know?"

Elle and Cat laugh at my misery. I love a good party. Sometimes a little too much. "No, actually, I don't," I say. "I love partying."

June snorts. "Why?"

"Good question," I laugh, shrugging. "I think I just like getting drunk and regretting it the next morning."

"Okay, that I can get behind," she agrees. The girls hum in agreement, and I feel more settled. She's the only girl in the lineup so far that hasn't made me want to rip my hair out with frustration. She's the biggest oxymoron I've ever seen. She has this whole badass look, all dark features, and then these bright brown eyes. Her name sounds like summer and the warmth, but she looks like she'd murder me. I like her already.

"So, tell us more about yourself," Elle prompts. "Why do you want to move in with us?"

June sighs, rolling her eyes as she crosses her legs. "To be honest? The girls I'm currently living with are all horrible."

My heart sinks a little. "Oh god. I'm so sorry," Cat whispers, and we nod in agreement. I can't imagine living with people who don't like me or would jeopardize the space we're in. These girls have been my lifeline and support for years, and living with them has only strengthened that bond.

"Do you know why?" I ask.

"No clue," she murmurs before biting on her bottom lip. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and we let her have her time to collect herself. "I may have got a big, uh, investment, and maybe they were jealous. Well, it's not like I could share any of the money with them anyway since it's technically my parents. I thought they'd lay me off after a few weeks, but they're doing everything in their power to torture me. We all share a bathroom, so when it's my time to shower, they make sure that the bathroom is a mess. I tried to clean it, but if there's not a mess in there, they make sure it'll be a mess in the shared living space or literally anywhere else."

We all grimace at that. "Sounds like a biohazard," Cat murmurs.

"It feels like a biohazard," June agrees, shaking her head. "I just don't think I can live there again next year, and I was stupid enough to wait too long and now all the other rooms are booked up. Except for yours."

Elle smiles tightly, turning to me before facing June. "We've got a few more people to see today, but we'll let you know." When June looks back up at us before she leaves, I hope for her sake that everybody else are horrible candidates, so we have no choice but to pick her.

Just as I expected,Wes is in my room when I get back to the dorm. He's sprawled out on my bed, deep in a sleep where it looks like he's having a happy dream. My millions of blankets and my bedsheets are covering him, wrapping him up in my scent and a part of me wonders if he's sleeping in there to be closer to me somehow. Or is that just crazy?

I toe off my shoes at the door, gently kicking them towards the wall before I kneel down on the bed, pressing my hand to his back. His breathing is soft, and his face is pressed into the pillows like it's the first time he's slept in years. It almost hurts to look at him like this. "Wes?"

He stirs slightly at the sound of my voice, one eye-opening. "Hm?"

"You were sleeping," I whisper, laughing quietly.

His voice is all thick and gravelly when he speaks. "Oh, shit, Nor. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I laugh, pushing his hair out of his face as he turns to look up at me. I wonder if he knows just how pretty he is. How perfect. "You can go back to sleep if you're tired. I was just going to work at my desk."

He shakes his head. "Come here," he murmurs. The instructions are so low and deep in his throat that I do just as he says. I pull off my sweatshirt so I don't overheat and slip into bed next to him in my tank top. He pulls me right into his chest, and I straddle his waist, getting as close to him as possible. "I was so tired. All that—" He yawns. "All that walking."

"It's okay," I murmur, snuggling deeper into his chest as if I could bury myself in his warmth. "How was the interview?"

He runs his hand down my spine as if it calms him down more than me. I love it when he does that. It's almost like he doesn't actually know he's doing it and has some subconscious desire just to be close to me. "It might be the best one yet," he admits. "I actually felt like I fit in there."

"Yeah?" I ask hopefully. There is nothing I want more than these interviews working out in his favor. After seeing the way he's interacted with kids over the last few weeks, I pushed him to see if there's any teacher training courses at Drayton or in the surrounding colleges. He managed to secure an interview, and this is good news.

"Yeah, they didn't speak down to me or anything like that. It was like they actually wanted to know me, and I knew what I was doing. Even when they knew all my previous history had to do with football and sports sciences." He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. "They might really want me."

I lean up on his chest, resting my chin on him. "Of course, they'll want you, Wes. You're amazing." He presses a kiss to my forehead as a silent thank you. I melt back into his chest, hearing his heart thrum softly against my ear. Our bodies fit so perfectly together like we were both made to be here for each other. I let out a soft sigh as his hand continues trailing down my spine. "I could stay here with you like this forever. It feels like you have me better like this. It's like you're mine."

I hear him swallow. "I'm always yours, Nora. I always have been, and I always will be."

"That just reminded me," I mumble, sliding off my bed and walking over to my desk. I bought Wes something a few days ago and keep forgetting to give it to him. Now might be the perfect time to. I pull the box from my drawer, holding it behind my back as I walk back to the bed. He pulls himself up against the headboard, his eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing?" he asks slowly, eyeing me up and down as I climb back into the bed. I settle my legs on either side of him, still hiding the box as I get comfortable on his lap. His hands find my waist, pulling me into him. "Never mind. I like this view."

I pull back as he tries to kiss me. "Do you remember when we were kids, and you had that whole collection of Lego figurines?" He nods. "And when we got older, you were annoyed that they made more Marvel films, and you felt stupid collecting them in case people made fun of you." He nods again, a slow smile creeping up on his face. I pull the box out from behind me, showcasing the Spiderman Lego that sits in a transparent case. "Well, I thought maybe you could start collecting them again. I know it might be stupid, but I thought it could be something we do together. I saw this the other day, and I had to get it to start it off."

I take a deep breath once my rambling stops. Wes blinks at me like he doesn't know what to say. He looks down at the box for a second, tracing his finger down the middle. "Why are you giving me this?"

I sigh. "I just explained that to you, Wes."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because I saw it, and it made me think of you," I admit, sucking in a breath as he pushes the box aside, pulling me closer until our chests touch.

"Are you sure?" He tilts his head to the side like I'm lying. What I'm saying is true. After knowing Wes my entire life, there are some things I can't see without thinking about him. It's like he's attached himself to the most basic things – like the sprinklers in the front yard of my parent's house, the Christmas markets, video game stores, football fields, the supermarket where we got strawberry ice cream and sat on the hood of his car eating it. I nod in response. "Tell me the truth, Sunshine."

"Because I'm in love with you, you idiot. Is that what you want me to say?" I bite out. I roll my head back, groaning before I connect with his gray eyes. His flirty expression softens, and the lines on his face smooth out.

He stutters, blinking at me. "You— You're?—"

"I'm in love with you, Wes," I whisper, softer this time. He continues staring at me like this is the most bizarre thing in the world, but everything about it feels so natural. The words roll off my tongue easily, and I drop my forehead to his. "I'm annoyingly in love with every single thing about you. With the way you look at me, the way you take care of me, the way you talk highly of me to others. The way you're just there."

He swallows. "Like a superhero?"

"Like a superhero," I confirm.

He tilts his head up, and I cover his lips with mine. I'll never get tired of the way it feels to kiss Wes. The way his mouth opens up to me. The way his hands know exactly how to make me feel good, trailing up my waist as I hold onto his face like my life depends on it. He feels like an anchor, pulling me right back down, holding me there.

There's no one on earth that can make me feel the way he does – loved, safe, happy, free. He doesn't think I'm too much for him. He doesn't think I take up too much space or his time. He just wants to spend time with me and be with me, and I want to do all those things for him, too.

Even when he pulls apart from me, clearly searching for words, I still feel him tingle on my lips. He's been staring at me for a minute straight, not saying anything.

"Wes," I laugh quietly. "Can you say something?"

He blinks at me, shaking his head. "I don't know how. What do I— What are you— Are you being serious? How do I–"

"Just say what your heart is telling you," I whisper, wrapping my hand around his, bringing it to his heart. It's beating hard against our hands, and I watch him take a deep breath.

"You are the love of my life, Nora Bailey. My heart belongs to you, okay? Whatever it wants, whatever it says, it's for you. It's all yours. I've been silently loving you for years. I'm so fucking lucky that I've got the chance to finally love you the way you deserve to be loved."

Tears brimming my eyes, a sharp laugh escapes me at his sweet words. "Do you mean very loudly?"

"Yes. There's no other way," he murmurs before kissing me again.

I used to think that was a bad thing. I'm used to people hiding me, wanting me to stay out of the spotlight so they can shine, but Wes would rather push me in it. He'd much rather encourage my dreams and sit front row at one of my shows than act like he doesn't care. That's the kind of love I've been craving. The kind of love I've been missing. The kind of love I finally feel like I'm worthy of having.

I want nothing more than to be loved loudly by Wes Mackenzie.