He lowers his lips to my neck, pressing openmouthed kisses along my naval. I gasp at the contact, and he brings his hand up to my hair, running his fingers through the threads as he presses our lips together.
The elevator doors slide open, and he walks towards his door with urgency.
“Wait!” I shout as his hand touches the handle. I brush past him, knocking his hand from the door. He looks at me like I’m insane as I block the doorway.
I take a deep breath. “I just want to say…I care about you. A lot.” I twist the door handle, my heart pounding. “And I’m sorry.”
His confusion deepens. “Sorry for what?”
I swing the door open, and a barrage of cheers assaults us.
“Surprise!”
Wesley’s face is as red as a tomato. I’ve never seen him look so shocked. His face is usually a mask of his emotions with the occasional icy glare peeking out from his signature stony expression, but right now, he looks utterly thrown.
Ben clasps his hand on Wesley’s shoulder as Lillian runs up and throws her arms around her son, hugging him. Other people I don’t know float behind them, smiling and chatting amongst themselves.
I meet Wesley’s gaze over his mom’s shoulder and his eyes flare with a warning. It’s a look that says one thing: what the fuck?
To his credit, he manages a smile as he steps back from his mother. He looks around at everyone. “Wow, what a surprise. Good job, guys.” He forces a chuckle, and I can see the effort it’s taking for him to stay pleasant. “Now, let’s get a drink!”
Everyone cheers. I grip Ben’s arm, pulling him towards me. “This was a huge mistake. He’s pissed. Really pissed.”
Ben raises his eyebrows innocently. “What do you mean? He looks happy to me.” He gestures over to where Wes stands with two friends from grad school, a pleasant expression plastered onto his face. I roll my eyes and go to argue with Ben, but he’s already slipped away towards the kitchen.
I go over to Wesley and press my hand on his arm. “Here, let me take your stuff.” I gesture towards the folder and his jacket.
“I’m good,” he says brusquely.
I blink and smile awkwardly at his two friends. Is he seriously this mad about the party? I shake my head. “Would you just give me your stuff and go get a drink, you grump?”
His friends are looking at him with identical expressions, as if silently saying: bro, give her the jacket.
Finally, Wes hands his stuff over. “Just put them in my office.”
I roll my eyes and bring his stuff into his office. I put the jacket on the back of his chair and as I’m about to set the folder on the table, something slips out the bottom, falling to the floor. I pick it up, and it’s a photo.
A photo of me and my mother, sitting on our stoop outside our apartment, sharing a joint.
What the hell?
My brain is moving slowly, forming both a million questions and no thoughts at all at the same time. Some part of me is warning me, screaming at me not to open the folder. That I don’t want to know. That I shouldn’t be snooping in Wesley’s things. That it’s nothing.
But the other part of me, the part now in control of my movements, reaches for the folder and opens it, sprawling the truth on the desk in front of me.
As I take in the sight of it, the words and photos staring up at me, my entire world turns upside down.
Chapter 40
Wesley
I hate my birthday. I’m sure I’m not the only one and it’s melodramatic and brooding of me to lament about it every time it comes around, but the fact remains that I can’t stand it. The day is a reminder of everything I’ve tried to forget.
When I turned 10, my father forced me to sit at the piano for hours without standing up. I begged to be allowed to use the bathroom or stretch my legs, but he refused until I finally pissed my pants.
When I turned 14, my father dropped me off at an arcade in Brooklyn and forgot about me. The owner closed the place, and it was nearly two in the morning when one of his drivers finally showed up and found me asleep on the curb.
When I turned 18, my father introduced me to his business associate, Mr. King, who took us both to a gentleman’s lounge in the meatpacking district where he introduced me to a woman named Candy and sent us to a private room.
