9. WYATT

9

WYATT

"You never told me about your dinner with your fiancé ," I tease, throwing a bag of chips into our shopping cart. Wren and I are shopping for snacks for my movie date with Charlie.

"He's not my fiancé yet," she mutters.

"I thought it was set in stone. A done deal."

She consults her shopping list on her phone and lets out a sigh. "He's not who I thought he was. I don't know. He…" her voice trails off as she picks up a bag of plain popcorn and puts it in the cart. I immediately take it out and exchange it for white cheddar.

"He what?" I stand in front of the cart, stopping her forward progress. The metal of the cart cuts into my hand since I'm gripping it so tight. If he said something to her, or worse, did something.

"Don't get your boxers in a bunch," she says. I would tease her about knowing what kind of underwear I have but she's the one who's been organizing my laundry. "It's nothing. He was nice. We had a good conversation about our future."

"So you're going to marry the guy?" My fingers flex around the cool metal of the cart. Why does this bother me? I can try to fool myself all day long saying it's me being concerned for a friend. That ain't it and I know it. I'm just too afraid to say it out loud.

I throw a few more bags of chips into the cart before we move on to the cookie and candy aisle.

She hesitates before answering, "Yes?" The word comes out more like a question and that little inflection in her voice offers me hope.

Hope for what? You are going over to her place to attempt to hook up with her roommate, you idiot.

"I still don't see how you can say yes to marrying someone you don't even know, let alone not in love with."

"Is that your plan? Marry for love?"

"Yes," I say confidently.

"The trail of broken hearts left in your wake makes me wonder if you're capable."

"I may not act like it now but I do want that someday." I want what my parents have. I've watched them fall in love over and over again every day. They fight and argue, but they love hard. Even through the tough times they find a way to still laugh together.

Wren grabs a couple bars of dark chocolate and I pick up a bag of chocolate peanut candies.

"Not everyone is suited for that kind of relationship. I'm being practical."

"Practical," I scoff. "Love should be wild. So wild it consumes every part of you," I say, stepping closer to her. "Yet, rooted deep enough in your heart it won't be ripped away when the weather gets rough. There's no room for practicalities in love."

"Maybe I prefer being sensible." She lifts her chin in defiance.

"You mean settling. You're willing to settle for some guy that isn't going to be loyal to anyone but himself. You are setting yourself up to live a very lonely life." Her eyes turn to stone and she huffs an angry breath. Too bad. She needs to hear this.

"You can keep pretending that it's what you want. That you prefer a life of solitude. I've watched you, birdie. You light up around other people when you give them a chance."

I saw it when she was dancing around the kitchen. Witnessing her drop her guard and not worry about who's watching or what anyone is thinking, it was a revelation. An awakening occurred in my soul. Seeing Wren come alive set off a stirring inside of me that's impossible to explain.

It's tempting to pull her close to me again. I like the way she felt when she was wrapped up in my arms while we danced in my kitchen.

Without the pretense of dancing, I'm not sure how she would react. Instinctively I step closer. Her eyes scan my body and she bites down on her lip. Her grip tightens on the shopping cart.

Why are you so tempting to me?

"I'm not pretending." Her jaw tenses. "I've always been better on my own. My teachers even wrote it on my report cards growing up. ‘Doesn't play well with others. Better with independent studies.' Can we drop it? We should focus . We still need a few more things and Charlie is waiting. Are you going to push or do you want me to?"

"I'll push. You hop on the back." I gesture toward the end of the cart.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not. Get on. Prove those teachers wrong and play with me."

"One aisle," she says, stepping on to the rail at the end of the cart. "Don't go too fast either."

"It's cute how you keep making all these rules for me to break," I say before sprinting down the empty aisle. She shrieks when I take the corner hard and fast. "Having fun yet?" I ask as we zoom down the next aisle and back around to where we started.

"So much," she says sarcastically, with a slight curl to her lips.

Hopping off the cart, she reaches on her tiptoes to grab a bag of cookies on the top shelf. Even at five-nine she can barely get her fingers to graze the side of the packaging.

Her shirt rises just enough to expose a sliver of her skin. It's barely an inch, but with her it might as well be a mile. That tiny bit of skin is enough to give me a slight chub. Damnit . This girl teleports me back to middle school every time we hang out.

"A little help would be nice," she grunts, as the cookies get pushed further back with her efforts .

Standing behind her, I slide a hand around her waist. I allow myself one touch to see if her skin is as soft as it looks. And it is. Of course it is. I know I'm tempting my fate as I stroke my thumb over her.

Her skin breaks out in goosebumps, but any other reaction is hidden behind a solid poker face.

"Might as well eat sawdust," I say, backing away and passing her the plain animal crackers. "These aren't even real cookies."

Wren elbows me in my side. Son of a bitch. "You really got to stop hitting on me, birdie."

"You've really got to stop calling me that. It's juvenile."

"Says the woman who enjoys eating crackers in the shape of little animals."

"Make fun all you want. They're my favorite."

I hold up my hands in surrender. "Get whatever you like. Don't come crying to me when you want something with a little flavor."

"You are the last person I would ever go crying to." Her words are spoken with conviction, strong and steady as always. But her eyes flash with an uncertainty that tells me she doesn't believe what she's saying any more than I like hearing it.

We make quick work of the rest of her list. I'm glad to see everything I texted her made the cut. I had a good time texting her one item at a time. By the eighth item she decided to video call me .

We ended up talking for over an hour. By talking I mean I would say something and she would make a smart ass comment about it.

Later that same night Charlie's voice filtered through my dreams again but it wasn't her. The image was blurry but I know it wasn't Charlie. I barely got any sleep. I was a wreck at practice and Coach was pissed.

I've got to get this situation wrapped up so I can move on and get back on my game. You'll never hear the words leave my mouth, but I will miss spending time with Wren when it's all over. I don't care what her teachers said. She gets along with me just fine.

"What's that?" I ask Wren as she whips together cool whip, vanilla yogurt, and cake mix.

"Ooh that's Wren's special dip she makes. It's so good when you dunk animal crackers in it," Charlie informs me from the living room where she's setting up the movie.

"Wyatt doesn't like animal crackers," Wren says, smiling. The little devil .

"I might."

"No. You don't. Tastes like sawdust. Remember?" She pushes up her glasses with the back of her hand .

"I might like them with that." I nod towards the bowl of white whipped topping that smells like straight sugar.

"Too bad you'll never find out because I'm not sharing this with you." She moves the bowl out of my reach.

"Don't be like that. Give me a taste." My words register in my brain as one thing but somehow the translation gets twisted when it gets to my dick. It's twitching in my jeans at the thought of tasting Wren. Which is bad. Very bad because I'm here to see Charlie.

A slight flush covers Wren's cheeks and neck. Is her train of thought as dirty as mine? Because I am currently having a lot of thoughts about her that I shouldn't. And if she's thinking the same as me… stop.

She changed into something more casual when we got back to her place. Her hair is tossed up in a high ponytail that appears relaxed but is still perfectly put together. She threw on a pair of black leggings and a long sleeve shirt that keeps slipping off her shoulder exposing a thin strap of a tank top underneath.

It's distracting me from my mission. Charlie and her haunting voice. That's why I'm here. Focus man.

Wren has all the food spread out on the countertop in matching bowls and serving platters. She is quite the little hostess. I spy the animal crackers and snag a handful. Popping one in my mouth, I regret it immediately.

The cracker absorbs all the moisture in my mouth and turns into a gummy paste. Wren slides the bowl of whipped yogurt and cool whip closer to me. Her arms cross over her chest as she waits for the verdict.

I swipe the cracker through the dip getting a hearty spoonful. As soon as the sweet mixture hits my tongue, I brace myself on the counter and drop my head. I'll be damned if I let her see the pure ecstasy on my face. Fuck, this stuff is good and addictive. I already want another bite.

"Not bad," I say, once I finish chewing. Wren laughs. The sound pokes holes in the defensive walls I just forced myself to put up.

"More for me then. I wouldn't blame you if you go back for more. I know it's hard to resist." Wren dips a cracker in the fluffy white goodness and pops it in her mouth. "So good," she moans.

Son of a bitch. That sound. She's doing this shit on purpose. She thinks she's being cute rubbing it in my face that I was wrong about the damn animal crackers. Meanwhile, I'm hard as a fucking rock. No one should be laughing about that.

I scrub a hand down my face to wipe my memory clear. "Should we head in there?" I ask.

"Yes. Do you remember the plan?" she asks once she's close enough to whisper. I nod.

We're going to start watching the movie. After a few minutes, Wren is going to come up with an excuse to leave which will give me an opportunity to be alone with Charlie. Simple and straightforward.

"Good," Wren says with a nod .

We both grab a bowl of snacks off the counter and walk into the living room. Charlie is already sitting comfortably on the couch with a blanket covering her legs. I'm not sure where I should sit.

There are two armchairs on either side of the couch and the whole right side of the couch is available. I opt for the right side of the couch leaving an empty space in between me and Charlie.

It would be weird if I plopped down next to her. I need to ease into it. This is not my typical hookup situation. Usually if I'm walking into a girl's dorm, it's already been decided that we are going to hook up. The question is when are we going to give up the pretense of watching a movie and have sex.

Wren places her drink on a coaster, naturally , on the table beside me. "Can you scoot over? I like sitting here. It's the optimal seat to watch a movie."

"Why would I give that up then?" I get more comfortable, resting my head on the back of the couch. She's right. It is a nice spot. I can see the television perfectly from here without straining my neck. I have the table beside me and the arm of the couch to lean on.

"Because you're nice and you want me to have it."

"Am I though?" I question her. "If this is the best seat then I think I should have it as your guest."

"Wyatt," Wren snaps, losing her temper. She raises her eyebrows in Charlie's direction. Oh. Oh , she's helping me. Why do I find that irritating ?

"Sure, you can have this seat. I'll just scoot over here." I slide over to the middle cushion and attempt to get comfortable again. I already miss the armrest. But I am closer to Charlie. That's all that matters. "Hi," I say to her. "What movie are we watching?"

Charlie smiles. Her eyes sparkle just like the first time I met her. " The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds."

"I love this movie! It's my favorite." I shift in my seat and get cozy under a blanket they had folded on the back of the couch. I didn't expect the girls to pick out a movie I actually liked.

"I know. Wren picked it out. She said it was your favorite. I love Sandra Bullock. Miss Congeniality is one of my favorite movies." Charlie beams.

Wren quietly eats popcorn as Charlie and I run through all of Sandra's filmography. She did this for me. She picked my favorite movie knowing it would give me and Charlie common ground.

Leaning toward her, I grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl she has resting in her lap. "Thank you," I whisper close to her ear. Her wildflower perfume fills the space between us. I forgot how good she smells.

"No problem. I'm just holding up my part of the agreement."

She is, but she's going above and beyond. Why? Maybe this is just how Wren is. Her ability to observe and retain the minute details makes her a thoughtful and caring person underneath her stoney exterior .

The movie starts and the three of us settle in. I've watched this movie a thousand times. I start silently mouthing the lines along with the movie.

"Do you mind?" Wren asks.

"Mind what?" I take a handful of popcorn from the bowl and pop a few pieces in my mouth.

"Your mouth is moving. It's distracting."

"You're distracting," I snap back without thinking. Her head slowly swivels to me. She stares, trying to understand the meaning behind my words.

I'm distracted by both women sitting beside me. Charlie because she keeps squirming on the couch trying to get comfortable and Wren because my body is hyper aware of hers. I can feel her presence without having to touch her. There is this electric buzz that flows between us.

I can't explain it, but it's almost like two magnets hovering over each other. You can only keep them apart for so long before they're forced to come together.

"I forgot how much I love Margaret," I say in a weak attempt at ignoring this pull I feel towards Wren.

"Me, too," Charlie agrees. "She kind of reminds me of you, Wren. You have a similar style and personality."

"Is that a good thing?" Wren asks. "She's kind of a bitch, isn't she?"

"She's direct. Nothing wrong with that. She knows what she wants and goes for it," I tell her. Wren is a lot like Margaret now that I think about it.

"She' s also a big softie deep down. She just needed someone to bring out that side of her. You know, tell her to not take everything so seriously," Charlie adds. I turn to Wren. Her eyes are focused on the bowl of popcorn.

"Good thing you have me, huh?" I say it low enough that only she can hear me.

"Yeah. Good thing. Not sure how I would carry on through life without you." Her eyes slant behind her glasses and her lips pinch.

"I was thinking the same thing," I joke back, dipping my hand in the popcorn for another handful and tossing it at her.

Wren collects all the little pieces and drops them back in the bowl. "Shouldn't you be spending more time wooing?" She gestures towards Charlie.

"I'm going to. One cannot simply woo on demand." I admit, the whole plan slipped my mind when the movie came on. "Are you going to…" I make a shooing motion. She nods in response.

"Don't worry. I have an exit strategy."

A few minutes later, cool liquid splatters across my right arm and chest. What the hell?

"Damn, it. I'm so clumsy. It just slipped out of my hands," Wren says. Her acting is atrocious. Don't quit your day job. She stands up, wiping water off her face. Her sweater is drenched and droplets of water are covering her glasses.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asks.

"Just embarrassed. I'm going to change. I'll be back. "

"Do you want me to pause the movie?" Charlie reaches for the remote.

"Oh no." Wren waves her hands in front of her. "You can fill me in when I get back. Don't wait for me. I'll only be a few minutes."

Wren's eyes catch mine one last time. There is a trace of melancholy to them. I'm not sure why but whatever it was, it didn't last long. She brings her empty glass to the kitchen and walks down the hall toward her room.

It's just me and Charlie. Exactly what I wanted. I clear my throat. She glances up at me. Is this my chance? Do I kiss her now? Should I say something first? Do I ask her if she wants to make out? Do I want to make out with her?

I cross my arms over my chest and pay attention to the movie. But I can't focus. Margaret is running around the backyard with Kevin the dog. It's one of my favorite parts, but all I can think about is how I don't want to be sitting here anymore.

I want to know what Wren is doing. I want to be where Wren is.

"I'll be right back," I tell Charlie. "Keep watching the movie. Quick bathroom break." Except I don't go towards the bathroom. I trace Wren's steps back to her room.

Knocking lightly a few times, I wait for the door to crack open. "Did you screw up already?" she asks, still wearing her wet clothes.

"I wanted to check on you. You okay?" I step into her room. No surprise it's pristine down to the perfectly fluffed pillows. Her bedding is a mix of creams and whites. This should also surprise absolutely no one.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She fiddles with the sleeves of her sweater.

Because you are beginning to question this whole scheme like I am?

Because the idea of me hooking up with someone else bothers you a little?

Because everything about this feels wrong and it would be nice if you were on the same page.

"I don't know," I say instead, picking up a picture of Wren and her parents sitting on her dresser. Wren is the spitting image of her dad except she has her mama's eyes. "Cute." I place the photo back down. I fully expect Wren to straighten it once I leave.

"That was my first day at Newhouse." Wren moves toward her closet. "You should go back out there. Charlie's going to get bored. She probably left already." Wren picks out a new shirt and lays it out on her bed.

I shrug. I was a little bored myself without Wren out there with me.

"If you blow your chance, don't say I didn't warn you," she says. As much as Charlie's voice haunts me at night, I'm not sure she's who I want anymore.

"Consider me warned," I joke. Wren shrugs then rips her sweater and tank top off in one go.

My eyes about fall out of the sockets. It's not like I've never seen a girl naked before. I never thought I would be lucky enough to see Wren. "Damn, birdie. You've got to let a guy know before you flash the high beams."

With a roll of her eyes, Wren turns her back to me. "They're just boobs. Don't tell me you haven't seen any before." She looks at me over her shoulder as she adjusts the shirt she's pulled over her head.

I had no idea Wren was so comfortable in her own skin. I would have pegged her to be more of a prude and reserved when it comes to taking off her clothes in front of other people.

But nope. Here she is half naked in front of me without a care. Why do I find that so attractive?

"I've seen plenty of boobs," I say smugly. None as phenomenal as hers. They're full and round. Fuck they're pretty . "I would even consider myself a connoisseur ."

"Damn it, Wyatt." She yanks her ponytail out of the neck of her shirt. I chuckle at her. "I'm still up by two this week," she says, turning to face me. My laughter dies on my tongue.

Lord, have mercy . I scrub a hand down my face.

She might as well take the shirt back off the material is so thin. Saran Wrap would offer her more coverage. Her dark nipples mock me. You can go ahead and pencil in jacking off to the memory of her tits to my evening festivities.

I shouldn't because I'm supposed to be here for Charlie.

But fuck, if she doesn't get my rooster crowing.

Question is, what am I going to do with this new development ?

At the moment, I'm not sure I should or could do anything. She thinks I'm into Charlie. There's no way she would understand my sudden shift of interest. Is it sudden though? Or has she been slipping slowly under my skin?

If I miscalculate and move too fast, I could ruin our friendship. I can admit that I like having her around. I didn't think this would ever be the case. She is opposite me in almost every way. Being in her presence steadies me. Knowing she has everything in control makes me feel like I can spin out and she would be there to hold me together.

"Still think you didn't miss much?" she sasses, before opening the door.

"I think I'm missing out on a lot of things." My admission has more truth in it than either one of us is willing to dissect.