Anna

An hour later, we’ve devoured loaded nachos and two margaritas each. They’re delicious, and…I’m actually having fun.

The Grumpy Monk is a big bar with three different rooms. The first room looks more like a restaurant with booths and tables and servers taking orders and bringing food out to the tables. The middle caters to sports with a bar along the back and big screen TVs with every sport known to man playing. There are pool tables, darts, air hockey, and even ping-pong tables set up. The last room has more of a club vibe with a stage set up along the front, a bar along the side, and high-top pub tables scattered along the edges of a small makeshift dance floor.

We’re currently in the first room. Desirae figured I’d be least likely to bolt from this area. She’s right.

“So, what are you reading right now?”

My cheeks burn as I think about it.

“Wow, that must be a good book. What is it?”

“It’s Priest by Sierra Simone.”

“Holy fuck, that book’s so hot! I just finished Sinner?”

“And? How was it?”

“If Father Bell makes you blush, I can’t wait to see what you do when you meet his brother.”

I chuckle, then jump at the sound of thunder cracking outside.

“Fuck, it must have started to rain.” Desirae turns to look at the front windows where we can see it’s an absolute downpour of rain outside.

We’re still looking when two figures run past the window and toward the front door. Three seconds later, the door opens, and two figures hurry in, soaking wet from the rain.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Desirae murmurs, checking out the newcomers.

I can’t help but watch them, too, as they laugh at their sad state, dripping all over everything. A bartender brings them a couple of towels, and they pat themselves dry. It’s then I realize one of them is Wes.

I blink a couple of times, sure I’m mistaken, convinced I just…conjured him up with my thoughts. But, when he turns to check out the place, he catches my eye, and I know for sure it’s him.

“Oh my God, one of them is looking at you!” Desirae whisper-squeals. “Oh fuck, Anna, he’s hot. Like I think I need a new pair of panties kind of hot. And look at his friend. Holy hot potatoes! Those tattoos are something else. Fucking hell, they’re walking this way! I call dibs on the one in red.”

She’s so busy rambling and staring that she hasn’t noticed my expression. Wes is walking toward me, and he’s…wet. Despite them toweling off just a second ago, raindrops make their way down the sides of his face, tracking down his neck and disappearing under his collar. His shirt is stuck to his body, revealing just how muscular he is under his clothing. His jeans are dark and heavy from being wet, and they inch lower and lower with every step he takes.

I can’t take my eyes off him.

He stops as he reaches our table and stands in front of me like a Greek god, staring just as intently at me. His eyes widen as they roam my face and trail down my torso. Then, I remember how Desirae made me up tonight. He’s never seen me with makeup on before. Or in a form-fitting shirt.

Self-consciousness kicks into high gear, and I itch to undo the knot in my shirt, but I reach for my necklace instead. But Wes’s eyes only get darker when he notices his necklace. It seems to heat up at his glance, and tingles shoot through my body at his reaction.

“Hello, gentlemen. Did you need a judge for the wet T-shirt contest?” Desirae greets with a smirk, blatantly checking both of them out. She elbows me. “What do you say, Anna? I think we might have a tie.”

Wes hasn’t heard a word yet, his eyes still stuck on me. “Anna.”

It’s one word. Just my name. But it sounds so good, coming from him. Reverent. Full of affection. It fills me with warmth.

I smile up at him. “Hey, Wes.”

“This is Wesley?” Desirae all but shouts, mouth gaping.

I internally cringe at my best friend’s lack of filter and what she might say right now. And I realize how rude I’ve been. I stand up and can’t help myself. I hug him, wet clothes and all. His arms wrap around me, pulling me into him, and I hear him inhale.

He seems to realize he’s soaking wet and steps back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you wet.”

I wave him off. “No worries. Wes, this is my friend Desirae.” I gesture to her. “Dee, this is Wesley.”

She takes his offered hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Nice to meet you, Wesley. I’ve heard so much about you.”

He looks at me with raised eyebrows, wondering if this is true. I only shrug and smile in response. Then, he seems to remember his friend, who has been standing there, watching our exchange with an amused smile.

“This is my friend Tae. Tae, this is Anna.”

And then I freeze. Tae is the guy I visit once a year to get another tally mark tattooed next to the others, the commemoration of my baby’s birthday. Not that I’ve ever told him what I’m counting, but no one knows about my tattoo. It’s not something I can talk about without explaining the significance. I break out into a cold sweat.

Tae mumbles something to Wes, and though I strain to hear what it is, I can’t make it out. Does he remember me? Did he tell Wes about my strange tattoo?

I stiffly shake Tae’s hand, silently imploring him not to say anything. “Nice to meet you, Tae.” Please don’t recognize me. Please don’t say anything.

He takes my hand and smiles. “Hi there.”

My smile is more like a grimace until I see him wink.

“Nice to meet you, Anna.”

Relief makes my smile genuine when he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

Once Tae and Dee make their introductions, she offers for them to join us. Of course she offers for them to join us.

“Oh no, we don’t want to interrupt your night.” Wes starts backing away.

“Interrupt away. We were just talking books,” she insists.

I feel the heat in my cheeks with the force of my blush as the guys take a seat.

Tae sits across from Desirae and grins at her. “Books, huh?”

“Yeah, we’re book nerds,” she admits. “We work together at a bookstore. Do you like to read?”

I’m looking at everything, except Wes. The lonely, uneaten nachos, the salt sliding down the margarita glass, the chip on the surface of the table. I feel his gaze on me, but I just can’t ask him what he thinks of that book. All I can hear is that groan from last night and wonder if he heard me, too.

“I’m not that much of a reader,” Tae tells my friend. “If I have a spare second, you’ll find me with a sketchbook in hand.”

“Ah, so you’re an artist!”

“That I am.” He smiles.

“Do you sell your sketches?”

“Kind of. I’m a tattoo artist.”

“Nice. I love your tattoos!” She takes the opportunity to run her eyes up and down his exposed skin, of which every inch is covered with colorful designs.

“Thanks.” He smiles at her. “Do you have any ink?”

“Not yet.” She looks up at him through her eyelashes, smiling coyly.

I’m hyperaware that Wes and I haven’t contributed to the conversation at all when the server comes up to get drinks for the guys and sees if we want to order anything else. We all decide on burgers and fries.

“Is this your work?” Desirae points to Wes’s ink-covered arm.

“Yep.”

Wes squirms at the attention as Tae holds up his arm for inspection. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so the tattoo disappears underneath it, covering the section over his shoulder and chest.

“I love the shading! What is that?” She points to the part on the inside of his forearm.

That. I know what that is. Anyone can see. But it can’t mean what I think it means.

“It’s an angel. It was the jumping point Wesley gave me to get the sleeve started,” he explains.

Breathe. Just breathe.

I stare at Wes, my eyes burning with emotion.

He’s staring right back. And, just like the way he says my name, his gaze is reverent. Warm and intense and full of so much emotion.

“An angel?” Desirae squints, as if trying to figure it out. Then, she asks the question I’ve been dying to ask, “Why an angel?”

He answers Desirae, but he keeps his eyes on me, “I believe in guardian angels. I have one in fact. She kept me going when I wanted to give up. So, I wanted an angel on my arm to look at when things got tough. To remind me of what’s important.”

Holy fuck.

My heart…it’s beating.

It’s beating so fast. I feel it everywhere. I even hear it, a frantic drumbeat in my ears.

And there might be bumblebees swarming around in my stomach.

My eyes burn at his words. At the fact that this man tattooed an angel on his body because of me.

Tae and Desirae are looking between me and Wes, understanding that we are having a bit of a moment here.

Desirae picks up her margarita glass in a toast. “To guardian angels.”

We dig into our food, all praising the cook, as the burgers are juicy and the fries are crispy. Then, Tae suggests we move to the middle room to play one of the games.

“Just as long as it isn’t karaoke, I’m in.” I smirk at Desirae.

“How about pool?”

“Men versus women?” Tae proposes.

“You’re on!” Desirae is convinced we can win, but she has never played pool with me before.

We lose so fast, it’s funny, so we decide to sit at the bar and watch the boys play another round.

“What a view,” she comments as Tae bends over to take a shot.

“Mmhmm,” I agree.

“Why didn’t you tell me things were heating up between you and Mr. Bad Boy?”

“Because nothing’s happening.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re just kidding yourself if you think that’s true. That man—who is sexy as sin, by the way—has it bad for you.”

Maybe I believe her.

I’m staring at Wes as he takes his turn when a hand grasps my waist. I startle, moving closer to Dee and out of the stranger’s grasp, turning to see who is next to me.

“Hi, beuyful,” the stranger slurs. He’s tall and good-looking but clearly drunk and way too handsy as he strokes my hair and then my cheek. “I’m Steve.”

I bat his hand out of my face, leaning as far away from him as I can while still sitting on the barstool. “Um, hi, Steve.”

His cheeks stretch into a wide smile, showing me all of his teeth—and gums for that matter. “Wha’s your name, beuyful?”

His breath reeks of alcohol, and he steps into my space, leaning one hand on the bar behind me. I step down off the stool and scooch around him. But, for every step I take away from him, he follows.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, blissfully unaware that I’m not interested.

“No, thank you.”

One step back. I shoot Desirae a nervous look, and she shrugs.

He moves forward. “What did you say your name was?”

I step back again when someone steps behind me. I have a moment of panic, thinking I’m trapped between two strangers, when a voice says, “She didn’t. Back off.”

Wes is standing so close, warmth radiates from his chest to my back. His voice is a growl, a warning. His hand on my waist is a claim. It feels…possessive. As if he’s telling every man at the bar that I’m his.

I lean back into him, wishing I were.

Drunk Steve holds his hands up. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize.” Then, he stumbles back to the other side of the bar.

I turn to face Wes to thank him for saving me and pull up short when I realize how close we are. His eyes glitter, more gray than blue right now. Almost silver. His scent surrounds me, sage and cedar and that hint of sawdust he can never get rid of, making me want to bury my head in his chest and breathe him in.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His breath fans my lips, and I can almost taste him.

Tae sidles up next to us. “You okay, Anna?”

I step back, catching a runaway lock of hair and smoothing it behind my ear. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“I think we should call it a night,” Wes tells Tae.

“No, no. Please. I’m fine. You guys finish.”

He looks unsure. “We can leave now. Besides, I want to talk to you.”

He wants to talk to me. My mind races, imagination already catapulting into the different things he might want to tell me.

“Okay. Finish up your game with Tae, and then we can talk. I’ll be right back.”

I need a second to calm my body. I’ve been a mess of emotions all night. I tell Dee I need to use the restroom, wave her off when she insists on joining me, and then lock myself in a stall. After I pee and wash my hands, I stare at myself.

You want Wesley. You’ve always wanted him.

And it would appear that he wants you, too.

Don’t fuck this up.

This is your chance to tell him how you feel.

I repeat my pep talk a few times, convinced that tonight is going to be the night that my life changes for the better.

My heart flutters at the thought. Wes has been in my heart since I was twelve years old. I love him despite his mistakes.

Maybe he can love me despite mine.

I take a deep breath and head back out to find him before I lose my nerve. But, when I do, my confidence crumbles.

A sexy redhead is sidled up to Wesley, her arm wrapped around his as she whispers in his ear.

No.

Shit.

Fuck.

Did I read him all wrong? I’m so stupid. Did I really think it could be that easy?

Tears prick at my eyes, and I spin around. I can’t see this.

I find Desirae, and she gives me a sad look.

“Hey, I’m taking off.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

“No, it’s okay. You hook up with Tae or whatever. I’m fine.” I grab my purse from the bar and lean my head down, allowing my hair to shield me from the view of Wes with another woman as I make my escape.

Why does she have to be a redhead? Just like that woman with Charlie. Ugh. I hate redheads.

The tears start to fall before I reach the door, and I frantically wipe them away. Stepping outside is like stepping directly into the shower; the rain soaks me instantly. I forgot it was raining, but I welcome the raindrops now. I step next to the building and lean my head back, looking up toward the sky, letting my tears fall freely now.

How can this hurt so much? I never had Wesley. He’s never been mine.

But I want to be his so badly.