Chapter 14

Wes

I can honestly say I thought Bryn would end up in my bed before she’d end up in here.

Most women would gawk in disgust over the idea of this place even existing, yet she strolled inside like a brand-new adventure she couldn’t wait to grab by the balls.

She even made sure to give mine a casual stroke during the room entering process, which caused me to growl so ferally that it startled Penny who dropped the cup of tea she had made for me as a surprise.

Given that I had worked through lunch – partially because Bryn was out spending her gambling winnings from last night – tea with fresh herbs from the garden would’ve been an appreciated gesture.

Admittedly, the cotton candy sandwich cookies the woman I’m dating brought are infinitely better.

Even if I’m fairly certain they were a well-executed distraction technique to allow her an opportunity to freely roam around one of my most private spaces unbothered.

Getting comfortable in the corner of the dark brown, leather sofa precedes me indulging in another bite of the pink and blue colored treats. “These are fantastic. Where’d you get them?”

“You wanna have Lucky bribe them for the recipe, don’t you?”

I innocently lick away a bit of the buttercream filling. “The thought may be crossing my mind.”

“They’re from my favorite restaurant Mo Mo’s Diner.” She freezes her body underneath the globe like chandelier and slides her hands into her back pockets. “They serve the best and craziest sandwiches.” Glee, I want to taste much more than this cookie coats her face. “We’re talkin’ anchovies on peanut butter and banana kinda crazy.”

“People actually eat that?”

“Not people I wanna fuck.”

Laughter effortlessly springs free, igniting her to join me in the activity. “What’d you have?”

“PB and J.”

“You’re feeling like an eight-year-old today?”

“ Maybeeeeeee. ” The overdramatic wink gets another round of snickers. “Or…it’s just hard to beat perfection.”

“Perfection is a grilled cheese.”

“Oh, how wrong you are, Mr. Wilcox.” She slowly shakes her head in a playful fashion. “ Nothing beats PB and J.”

More chuckles hit our ears prior to me asking, “Did you dine alone?”

“Nope.”

“Friend?”

“Coworker.”

“Male?” Another bite is taken to mask the insecurity I wish didn’t exist. “Female?”

She tilts her head in a teasing nature, however, doesn’t answer the question.

I don’t need her to.

I would just like her to.

Appreciate it.

I made my feelings about exclusivity clear when this all started.

Bryn seemed to be in agreement then ; therefore, I’m going to assume she still is now.

“So, are all the comics in here just Batman?”

Swallowing my pride alongside the treat is more difficult than I care to admit. “They are either his or feature him in a principle or collective role to the main storyline focus.”

“And the toys?” She casually points to the action figures still in their packaging. “Are they for playing?”

“ No. ”

“What about the mounted masks? Are they for wearing?”

“ No. ”

“Can I at least put on one of the capes?”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Her white tank top bounces when she shrugs, flashing her belly button. “What’s the point in having a bunch of cool shit everywhere if all you’re gonna do is look at it?” She mischievously leans forward at the same time she taunts. “That’s what they make museums for.”

It’s almost impossible not to smirk.

“ Come on, Wes, ” the woman I swear could convince me to rob a bank in spite of knowing I don’t need the money seductively coos. “ You know you wanna wear a cape with me. ”

“Now, I’m wearing one with you?”

“If you want, I can wear nothing but the cape.”

I do want.

I suddenly do want that much more than any man my age should.

A crooked grin slowly growing into place occurs before she heads to the coat rack in the corner where they’re displayed. “Which one do you want, Bruce?”

“Whichever.”

The end of the cookie slips into my mouth as she picks one of the articles unaware of just how weighty they truly are. “ Holy fuck that’s heavy. ”

All she’s offered is a smug smirk.

“No one could fight crime in this shit!”

“Batman does.”

“Batman’s lying.”

More laughter shakes my frame.

“The only thing his ass is doing in these is taking glamor shots.” I chuckle further while she simply shakes her head. “You get up and get your own, Mr. Wayne. I already did arms today toting around my shopping bags.”

Rising to my feet is attached to inquiring, “You enjoy yourself?”

“I would’ve enjoyed it more had you come with.”

Rather than respond to the comment, I continue my casual questioning, “You have any trouble locating the stores I have accounts with?”

“No.” She wildly wields around the thick leather accessory. “Puppet Boy texted me between meetings with his recommendations from the eight-page list-”

“It wasn’t eight pages.”

“-so, I went with those.” Watching her struggle to fasten it is adorable. “There was a whole Pretty Woman vibe to one of the places that pissed me off, but Puppet Boy swore they even treat him like that, and he shops there regularly.”

“Where?”

“Why?” She impishly grins. “So, you can have someone fired?”

“ Or everyone. ” Her sarcastic head tilt is followed by me assisting in the proper dressing process. “I don’t tolerate disrespect very well.”

“Then you’re about to be really pissed at what I’m about to do in this cape.”

Curiosity has me cocking my head until she stretches her arms out to “fly” off across the room. The childish sight receives small chortles, yet the “superhero” pose she strokes next to the unlit fireplace results in my head lulling back in laughter.

“ See ,” Bryn juvenilely taunts, “these things are much more fun when you play with them.”

I simply shake my head again and fasten the thick cloth around my neck.

“How’s everything divided around here?” Her attention shifts to the space over her shoulder. “By year? Issue number? Author?” She slides over to the area she was staring at. “And why are they in bags?”

“To preserve them between reads.”

“ Nerd ,” Bryn good naturedly goads under her breath.

“And they’re in order by publication date – including the graphic novels I’ve acquired.” I cross the room, properly closing the door during my passing by. “You’re currently in the land of just the Bat as it is nearest the vault.” Pointing to the far corner of the wall she’s facing occurs next. “Which you get to down there.”

She swiftly slides in that direction like I expected. “Is there a secret lever?! Tell me there’s a secret lever to pull!”

“Pull the Bat light on display in the corner.”

There’s no hesitation for her to execute the instruction, and the instant she does the comic book filled wall cracks open granting her access inside. “ Ohmygodddddd! ”

Uncertain of what makes me happier – her excitement or getting to share this piece of myself with someone else – I merely lovingly mingle in the doorway.

Lean against the wall.

Watch her skim and scan and awe at my more prized pieces that are kept in higher security display cases.

“Gonna guess the ones worth more than your father’s car collection are in there,” she says on a playful point to the vault wall.

“Yes.”

“This is…” her head whirls around in amusement during her body’s spinning back to me, “ insane. ”

Embarrassment threatens to creep into my complexion. “Is it?”

“Yeah, but like good insane.” The clarification is swift and sweet. “Like if I had billionaire money, you bet your ass, I’d have a Star Trek collection that surpasses this.”

I can’t resist laughing at her cockiness. “ Surpasses ?”

“Naturally because Star Trek is better.”

No, but she is better.

Better than any woman I’ve ever met.

Could’ve envisioned.

Dreamt.

“Does Puppet Boy know this place exists?”

“He does.”

“Did your ex-girlfriend know about your collection? I assume it was just starting then.”

“Not to this extent,” leaves my lips in a much quieter tone.

“ Again, ” Bryn sassily states on her way back to me, “that bitch’s loss.”

“Your gain.”

“One hundred percent.” Her arrival in front of me is accompanied by a dramatic cape toss. “What’s your all-time favorite Bat book?”

“Ooo,” my lips purse together in an intense fashion, “impossible answer.”

Her eyebrows launch upward in wordless counter.

“I mean how do I even choose? The Killing Joke is one of the best graphic novels to ever exist despite the whining critics who just don’t understand the impactful ending. But technically that’s a novel not really a comic book. So, if we’re going comics, I could easily pick something from The New 52 line, which revamped and relaunched all of DC – the publishing house – or I could go way back to the ‘Knightfall’ story arc where Bane breaks Batman’s back and the set of events eventually leads to modern creation of the so-called ‘Bat Family’.” It takes a moment to realize how much I’ve rambled; however, the second I do, I casually clear my throat as though I didn’t just go from mysterious billionaire to lives in his parents’ basement geek in sixty seconds. “I’m simply trying to explain that there is not a simple answer to your question.”

“Uh-huh,” she snickers obviously at my expense. “Let me try this a different way.”

An open gesture is given in her direction to continue.

“What would you choose for me – a comic virgin – to begin with?” A devilish grin that makes me leery crosses her lightly glossed lips. “And don’t worry. I’m not going to sneak in here and borrow one. I’ll swing by Crack That to purchase my own copy.” All of a sudden, she gasps and gives the edge of my hoodie an excited tug. “ Or we could plan a date to go nerd diving at one of the old thrift stores downtown! That could be fun!”

Her suggestion changes my entire demeanor.

And she notices.

Because that’s what happens when you let someone get closer to you than you probably should.

“I’m not saying like… today …” Bryn’s back peddling is slow. Subtle. “Or even…this week…just…sometime?”

I struggle to keep my stare connected.

“ Anytime , Wes?”

My lips press tightly together, presenting her with an answer.

An answer I know she doesn’t want.

That I should’ve known from the beginning she eventually would.

“ Seriously?! ” Her frame propels itself away from mine. “You won’t ever go out in public with me?

“No.”

“Not even if you wear your mask and your hoodie and your gloves and a fucking Geordi La Forge bar over your eyes so no one can see those either?!”

“No.”

“No?” Disbelief increases her volume as well as her rage. “Just…no?! Not a ‘we can talk about this shit later’? Or ‘let’s revisit when we’ve been dating a while’? Or even a ‘maybe for your birthday’?!”

“ No. ”

“That’s it?!” Additional bewilderment bulldozes itself through her gaze, shoving shame into mine. “We can only be together here ? On the USS Addam’s Family Enterprise ?” The narrowing her eyes indicates the remark was rhetorical. “Like I’m your dirty little fucking mistress the world will never know about? That’s what I’m hearing?”

“It is.”

Her eyes widen once more.

“I leave the estate to put flowers at the door of my parents mausoleum.” My frame shifts itself to a standing position. “ That. Is. All. ”

“But-”

“ There is no but. ” Coldness coils itself around my words to cement my seriousness. “There is no discussion. There will be no discussion. This is not up for debate or negotiation, nor will it be simply because you decided you’d rather have me between your legs than some piece of shit vibrator you’re gonna lose again between eventual moves.” Her jaw falls in what I imagine to be hurt prompting me to rush to apologize, “ Bryn, I- ”

“ You ,” she snips at the same time she yanks at the material around her neck, “have made yourself and your feelings crystal blue waters fucking clear, Mr. Wilcox.” The object dramatically hits the ground prior to her declaring. “ So now, I’m gonna make mine. ”

Her body roughly shoving past me tempts me into pleading for her to wait, for her to give me a moment to reword my callous statement, to better explain all the ramifications that could come from granting what she feels is an innocent request, yet I say nothing.

I do nothing.

I simply allow the first person I’ve invited into my life to walk out of it demonstrating exactly the type of monster I’ve become.