Page 92 of Golden

“How can you possibly know that?” I plead, exasperation lacing my words. “Because for me, nothing’s changed, and I don’t think it will.”

Zak leaves a hand on my shoulder, his expression earnest. “You’re too blinded by your feelings to see it, but he’s falling apart.”

“You’ve got that the other way round,” I scoff.

“No.” Zak shakes his head. “I don’t know the guy well, but he’s losing it. Trust me.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if he thinks I really am over him? That I’ve moved on?”

Zak grimaces. “Then I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to get over it. At least there’s only a few months until graduation and then you never have to see him again.”

My stomach bottoms out. That’s the problem. I told his parents I had offers for after graduation, and I do. Some of them are pushing me for an answer, but I can’t give them one yet, because I’m waiting. If Zak’s right and Wes breaks, I don’t want to have accepted a position in Massachusetts.

Shaking my head, I start walking, turning onto the cobbled path that leads to the Den. Pathetic. I shouldn’t be making a call that important based on someone else—someone who certainly wouldn’t do the same for me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, my heart stuttering in my chest as I see who it’s from.

Wes: My parents want to adopt you. I told them you already have a family.

I laugh, and Zak leans over to read my text.

“See,” he says, grinning widely. “He doesn’t usually text you outside of your meet ups, does he?”

I shake my head. “Rarely.”

Me: Your parents are lovely. Are u sure ur not the one who’s adopted?

Zak snorts at my side and I shove him away. “Stop reading my messages.”

“If you think I’m not coming along for this ride, you’re deluded, brother.”

He opens the door to the Den, and we step inside, placing our coffees down as we shed our coats and head to the quieter side of the living room. My heart thuds steadily against my chest as I sink into my favorite chair and watch the three dots bounce.

Wes: Fair. I don’t deserve them.

I exhale in disappointment. He’s ended the conversation. Maybe I shouldn’t have joked with him. Maybe—

Wes: They’re convinced you like me.

My eyebrows narrow and I glance at Zak who’s perched on the arm of my chair, not even trying to pretend he’s not reading over my shoulder.

Me: I do like u

“Fuck,” Zak breathes. “I need popcorn or something. This shit is tense.”

I give him a look. “I’m glad you find my life so entertaining. Fuck off.”

“Hell no.” Zak’s eyes widen as he looks at my phone. “He’s typing. He’s typing!”

Shaking my head, I try not to ignore the nerves swirling in my gut. It’s an innocent enough conversation, but I can’t shake the feeling I’m walking on ice, waiting for it to crack and take me down.

Wes: Not like that. More than friends. I told them you’re too smart to feel like that after the way I’ve treated you.

I read his words four times. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

“The truth,” Zak says.

Wiping my sweaty palm on my jeans, I take a deep breath as I type out my reply.

---