Every Kiss (14 page)

I don’t know how to take his reply. Is he offended, thinking
that I implied he can’t afford them?

Wes Baxter:
‘You can show me your appreciation
tomorrow.’

Nevermind. He’s not offended. Probably just stuck in Sexy
Suit CEO mode since he’s at the office.

Me: ‘
Much safer to show you now. You can consider
yourself thoroughly appreciated. Thank you.’

The saleswoman meets us up front with my shoes and our
dresses safely stored in zippered bags. “Please give us a call tomorrow if you
run into any issues with the dresses. We can always make some minor last-minute
alterations. Oh, and Mr. Baxter asked me to give these envelopes to you before
you leave. Enjoy your banquet, ladies.”

Makenna makes a weird face as we exit. “Mr. Baxter? Doesn’t
she know there are three of them? Which one?”

But when I look down at my name scrawled across the front, I
know exactly which one.

CHECKING THE TIME, I reapply my lip
gloss and make sure my hair is in place. This has been unlike any Saturday I
can remember. I expected today to be nerve wrecking, but it ended up being
quite relaxing. I didn’t have to do a thing other than tell people what I
wanted. It was an oddly empowering thing.

The envelopes we received yesterday held certificates to a day
spa, promising a day of massages, manicures, pedicures, hair styling, and
makeup. All courtesy of Wes. I didn’t mention to Makenna that mine had an
additional note tucked inside. I’ll keep that my little secret.

Callie,

You don’t need any of this to be beautiful, but you
deserve to be pampered for putting up with me. Thanks for agreeing to be my
date. And for saving me from my mom’s wrath.

Until tomorrow,

Wes.

If it hadn’t been for the sweet first line, I might have
shown it to Makenna, but as it stands, she’d read way too much into it. Despite
what he says, he’s naturally flirty, and that’s all that is.

“Callie, they’re here!” I hear Makenna’s favorite stilettos
clicking on the floor as she darts through the kitchen. The front door squeaks
as it opens, and I hear the deep reverberation of their voices carrying through
our dorm. It’s that sound that releases the swarm of butterflies.

Taking a deep breath, I step into my shoes—loving that I’m
immediately taller—and take one last look in the mirror. Everything looks as
good as it can possibly get, but I’m suddenly rethinking my hair. I opted to
leave most of it down in cascading, loose curls to cover my exposed back, but
now I’m wondering if I should’ve had it all up. I don’t know if I look formal
enough.

“Wow. You’re stunning.” Wes catches me off-guard. In so many
ways. I’ve seen him in suit, but a tuxedo on him is . . . damn. I never thought
a little black bow tie could be so sexy.

I try to regain my bearings by teasing him. “Don’t you ever
knock?”

“No. Real friends don’t have to.”

God, those eyes. That insanely perfect smile. Is he trying
to kill me? “Ready to go?”

He screws up his face and looks at me funny. “Something’s
missing.” He looks under the curtain of hair at my ears before digging in his
pocket and pulling out a small, flat velvet box.

I’m sure the look of horror sweeping across my face does
nothing but amuse him. “Uh.”

“Relax. Just open it.” When I don’t take it from him, he
flips the lid open, revealing a teardrop shaped onyx pendant on a sterling
silver chain with matching earrings. It somehow matches my dress perfectly,
including the silver beading. “Don’t overheat your brain. I had the woman at
the dress shop send me a picture of the dress, so I could get you something
that matches. It’s yours to keep. Another little ‘thank you’ for coming with
me.”

“Who are you?”

He just laughs at me, this time unfazed by the question. He
twirls a finger in the air until I turn around, and he clasps the necklace,
lifting my hair around it when he’s done. “You’ll have to do the earrings. I
don’t know how they work.”

Wes watches as I put them in, cringing a little as I poke
them through the holes in my earlobes. “As always. Beautiful.”

“Thank you, but Wes, I can’t accept—”

“Don’t even start that,” he interrupts. “You can and you
will. Now let’s get out of here before Shane and Makenna end up in her fuzzy,
pink bedroom and make us late.”

FOR SOME REASON, I thought the
banquet would be held at his parents’ house, but it’s actually in a convention
center. After a long hour of admiring the extravagant décor and listening to
animated speeches, I still don’t know what the purpose of the whole thing is.
Wes and Shane have been busy mingling with the guests as they were told, while
Makenna and I sip water from crystal glasses at a table in the back corner as
we watch everyone.

Obviously, everyone in this room has money. A lot of it. And
I feel really out of place. My parents aren’t poor, quite the contrary, really.
My dad is an engineer and my mom is a dermatologist. They do okay. But these
people make me feel like I’m a hobo on the street, and I don’t like it.

“Callie, I want you to come with me and meet someone.” Wes
appears at my side and takes my glass from me, setting it down on the table.

I stand and look back at Makenna, who is now being whisked
away by Shane. “Oh, okay. Who is it?”

“My mom.”

Shaking my head, I back away from him. “No, no, no. I don’t
think I need to do that.”

“Why the hell not? She wants to meet you.”

“I’m nervous,” I admit. “All of this . . .” I point around
the room. “This isn’t me.”

He leans close and whispers in my ear, his warm breath
puffing against my hair. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s not her
favorite either. Come on.”

Resigned, I allow him to lead me away, surprised when he stops
to grab two glasses of champagne from a server’s tray. With both tucked between
the fingers of one hand, he continues across the room until he pushes through a
door leading to an empty ballroom. It appears to be decorated for a wedding
reception or something. The only light comes from the thousands of little
twinkling bulbs strung across the high ceiling.

“Here, drink this. It tastes like shit, but it will calm
your nerves a little bit, and you’ll care a little less about the snooty people
out there.” He shoves one glass into my hand and tilts it toward my mouth.

I take a tiny sip and feel the bubbles dancing against the
roof of my mouth. “You know I’m not twenty-one for a few weeks, right?”

“Didn’t stop you at my birthday party, now, did it? Just
drink it.”

I shrug and lift the flute to my lips, drinking until it’s
empty.

“Good,” Wes encourages, trading my empty glass for the full
one. “Now this one. All of it.”

“Well, Wesley Baxter, it appears you’re trying to get me
drunk.”

“Not a chance. Just loosening you up a little. You don’t
normally care what anybody thinks, and you shouldn’t be any different with
these people . . . or my mom.” He pauses to take the other glass from me.
“Better?”

I nod. Since I haven’t eaten yet, I can feel the warmth of
the alcohol already hitting my bloodstream.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone for a while, but I’m
yours the rest of the evening. And I know I already told you this, but I meant
it. You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re horrible at
not
flirting, but you’re not
so bad yourself.”

“Flirting?” A conflicted look sweeps over his face before he
reaches out and takes my hand, slipping it into his jacket to cover his heart.
“Callie, do you feel that?”

The steady thrum of his heart is pulsing wildly. “Yeah.”

“You do that to me. Every single time you’re around. No
matter how many times I tell myself that we can only be friends. No matter how
many times I try not to let you get to me. I can’t make it stop. I’m not just
flirting with you. You slay me, and it takes everything I have in me to keep
you from seeing it. But I can tell you want it, too.
Please
just admit
that to me.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He squeezes my hand against his chest and runs the other
hand through his hair. “I wish I could give you what it is that you want, what
you deserve. I swear I do, Callie. But I can’t make a commitment to you, not
the way you would need me to. I won’t lie to you; I can’t do the boyfriend
thing. So I’m laying it all out there. Right now. No games. You just admitted
that you want me, and I sure as hell want you, so can’t we just start with
that? But I’m always going to be totally straight with you. I
can’t
make
you any promises. I don’t want to use you, but in essence, that’s exactly what
I’ll be doing.”

I try to swallow but my suddenly dry tongue hangs in my
throat. I want to tell him that he’s insane if he thinks for one second that
I’ll just sleep with him without any chance of a relationship. I’ve seen
Allison. I’ve heard how he only calls her when he needs her. I don’t want to be
that person. I
won’t
be that person. I won’t be one of the many women
revolving in and out of his life.

But at the same time, I can’t help thinking that maybe it’s
what’s best for me. Maybe the simplicity of casual sex would be good for me.
Relationships have been beyond complicated for me lately, and . . .

Wait a minute. Who am I kidding? It won’t work. One or both
of us will end up hurt, and everything will just be awkward when we’re forced
to be around each other. No. It just can’t be this way. We can only be friends.
Or maybe we shouldn’t even be that.

“Callie, don’t. I can see those wheels turning, and I
shouldn’t have brought it up here. I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of
days, but I should’ve waited until another time. Let’s just enjoy tonight. Take
some time to think about everything, and we’ll discuss it another day. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” My voice barely croaks out the answer.

“Forget I opened my big mouth. The dim lighting and
champagne are screwing with my head. And you’re so . . . so . . . I just can’t stop
looking at you.” He wraps his arms around me, swaying back and forth to the
music echoing into the cavernous room. “Did I totally kill the chance to have
you dance with me?”

“I’d love to,” I say, taking a step toward the door, but he
stays rooted in place.

“No, in here. Let’s just enjoy the quiet for a second.” He
leads me out to the dim dance floor and pulls me close, linking his fingers low
on my back. I start out with both hands resting on his shoulders, resisting the
closeness of him, but it’s not a battle I’m strong enough to fight for too
long. Finally, I reach both arms around his neck and rest my head against his
shoulder, closing my eyes. And I’m not at all surprised when I feel his cool
lips press a kiss against my forehead.

I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to think. I
won’t lie about wanting him, but I also won’t lie that I’m scared of getting
hurt. I’m attracted to him, painfully so, and he’s made it abundantly clear
that he feels the same way. I don’t know him all that well, but I feel like I
do. There aren’t really any guessing games with him. He’s honest about what he
wants. Me.

Even though I can respect his repulsion toward commitment,
especially since he’s honest about it, I know I like him. If we throw sex into
the equation, what if “like” turns into something more, evolving into more than
either of us bargained for? He’s made it clear that he’ll walk away, and I’ll
be the one left with the broken pieces to clean up. Regardless of the
simplicity of what we both want right now, I have a feeling it will become
more, and I have to take the inevitable end into serious consideration.

After two songs, the band announces they’re taking a break,
and I lean back to look up at Wes. “Maybe we should go find your mom.”