Jolene
I could see it in his eyes.
He was mad.
He was jealous.
It wasn't that the beloved Bishop parrot had died, and it wasn't that he felt guilty about living so far away from his family.
His scowl was unmistakably a jealous one. It crossed his face the instant I said I had a second date with Colton. He did his best to hide it, but it was there, plain as day.
I was absolutely giddy when I saw it, and it took every ounce of my restraint and resolve to hide my excitement and pretend I didn't notice his irritation. I had to leave the room before I did something crazy like begin to giggle or maybe even throw myself into his arms. He had a rough day and I didn't want to take advantage of that by letting my feelings for him show.
He was disappointed that I had plans for the evening. This really made me want to cancel my plans so I could hang out with him, but I knew I couldn't do that. I owed it to both of us to maintain boundaries and not fall at his feet every time I thought he might be a little jealous or disappointed. So, I didn't offer to cancel my plans with Colton, but that didn't stop me from smiling like crazy as I stood in the bathroom thinking about it.
Wes Bishop went and got a little jealous over me, and suddenly, I was on cloud nine about it. Pitiful, I know, but I couldn’t help it. I stood in front of the mirror, grinning like I had just won the lottery. I had told Wes he could stay at my apartment if he wanted to, and I wondered if he would take me up on it.
Now that I was thinking about it, I had left the room in such haste that I hadn't even made sure he was going to still be there when I finished drying my hair. My smile faded as I realized that maybe he had left. Maybe I had done the wrong thing by leaving the room so quickly. Maybe he needed more time to talk to me. I quickly turned off the blow dryer and set it down on the countertop before turning to leave the room.
I was so concerned with making it into the living room before Wes left that I moved with great haste. It was for this reason that I ran smack dab into him. It was a good thing he saw me coming and anticipated the collision, because he braced himself and caught me. I let out a yelp, feeling like I had run into a brick wall. His arms instinctually came around me, steadying me. I pulled back to stare at him.
"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I was just coming out there to make sure you were still here."
I took a step backward, peeling myself out of his embrace, and feeling all ooey-gooey when I realized he was really reluctant to let me go. I kept my distance for the last three months, and I would continue to do so as long as necessary, but that's not to say it was easy. I was in love with Wes Bishop right down to my bones, and it took all my willpower to pretend that I wasn't.
I smiled and sighed, looking casual as I regained my footing, taking another step back. "I wasn't sure if you were leaving, and I realized I didn't tell you goodbye," I said. "I didn't want you to think I was being insensitive about Elvis. I know it's hard to lose somebody, even if it's a pet. I didn't mean to rush you off or anything."
"It's all right," he said. "I feel bad for making you feel bad about your date. I shouldn't have been so selfish."
I was happy he was still here. I was happy to see him, but part of me was disappointed—the part of me that wanted him to be jealous rather than apologize for being selfish.
"I'm glad you feel like you can talk to me," I said. I reached out and tugged on his arm. "Let's just do it in here so I can finish getting ready."
Wes stood with his back against my bathroom wall, and then slid down, landing on his bottom, sitting right next to my bathtub with his knees in the air. I turned to face him as I dried my hair rather than staring at myself in the mirror. I turned it on 'low' so that it wasn't too loud.
"You smell like fruit," he said, speaking loudly enough to overcome the sound of the dryer.
I smiled. "It's my shampoo," I said.
Wes stared at me for a few seconds. I wasn't trying to do anything cheesy like act sensuous or impress him with my blow-drying skills. In fact, quite the opposite was true. I probably seemed pretty unappealing at the moment. I had on no makeup and some pajamas that didn't even match. I tilted my head to the side and used my hand as a comb to aid in my blow-drying efforts.
"I think you're right about me going home soon," he said, still speaking loudly. "It's not every day your brother has a kid."
"Two kids," I said.
He nodded. He adjusted the way he was sitting, pulling his feet closer to his bottom where he could rest his arms on his knees. He stared up at me with a thoughtful but otherwise unreadable expression.
"Ivy's gonna be a senior in college," he said. "I can't believe how time passes. I can't believe she's almost done."
I could see the concern and maybe even guilt in his eyes. "I think it's a great idea for you to go home," I said.
The selfish side of me wanted to discourage him from doing it because, the truth was, I would miss him. We had spent a lot of time together during the last three months, and I would truly miss my throwing partner. He had become one of my best friends.
"I could take your brother," he said, surprising me.
I shot him a confused look that made him smile.
"He would love it," Wes said. "You know how much he loves Bishop bikes. He would love seeing where it all started."
I turned off the dryer. The hot air combined with the unexpected conversation caused me to flush. It was warm outside, and my hair could just dry the rest of the way naturally. I set the dryer down and began digging in my cosmetic bag.
"You cannot take my brother on your trip," I said impassively.
"Why not? He would love it."
"I know. That's the point. And they would love him. They'd want to give him a job, and he'd move to Memphis and leave us both. I need my brother, and you need him here, too. Who else would constantly fix that piece of junk of yours?"
"You're just jealous because you want to move to the States."
"You're right, I do," I said. "And I will eventually. But until then, I'd like to keep my brother around. You know as well as I do that if he ever set foot in the place where Bishop started, he wouldn't want to leave."
"My dad would really love him," Wes said. "So would Doozy."
I knew who Doozy was. Michael Bishop—Wes's grandfather, the man who started the whole company.
"That's exactly why he's not going with you. It's a match made in heaven, and we both know it. Don't even ask him, Wes. He needs to stay here. Our parents are here, and he's got a girlfriend. Just go by yourself like you normally do."
"Then you come with me."
"No," I said, rubbing a sponge full of weightless foundation on my face.
"Why not?"
"Because it's not appropriate. You have a girlfriend, and it doesn't look right for you to take your friend home to meet your parents before you take her. Just take Shea."
"They all know you by now, anyway," he said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, thinking he was joking around.
"They've all seen your videos."
I turned and looked at him. "What? How?"
He shrugged. "I showed them. I told my mom I was learning how to throw knives, and I forwarded her your videos. She showed everyone else. My brothers are really competitive. They're probably gonna learn how to do it just to outdo me."
"You're kidding."
He shook his head, wearing a not-so-regretful smile.
"You can tell them you're learning how to throw knives but you can't tell them you’re a musician? You can't tell them that you write songs and play sold out shows?"
"If I told them that, they would want to get involved. My grandmother and Courtney. Both of them would pull strings for me."
"So, let them," I said. "String-pulling is good, Wes. You need strings pulled. You're good enough. You should go to next level."
He sighed as he let his head rest against the wall. "It's not that I'm afraid to move forward with my music, Jo. It's just that I don't know if I'm ready to let the two worlds collide—ya know—the life I have here and the life I had back home. Part of me just enjoys being a broke musician. I kinda like the anonymity."
"Ya think?" I said sarcastically since that was an understatement.
We shared comfortable silence for the next few minutes. I put on a little blush and powder and then curled my eyelashes before applying a coat of mascara.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, finally.
"I was thinking about your brothers learning how to throw knives. That'd be crazy if they did."
"They're married," he said.
"What's that have to do with it? Married guys can throw knives just as good as unmarried ones."
"It's just that you said you were thinking about my brothers, so I figured I'd warn you that they were married."
Again, that feeling of utter and complete joy welled in my soul when I realized that Wes Bishop was jealous. He was jealous over me. What in the world? I did not let my excitement show at all. In fact, I did the opposite. I squinted at him.
"I'm not standing here daydreaming about your brothers, Wes. I know they're married. One to Courtney and the other to Darcy. I'm not that kind of girl."
"Obviously," he said in a sarcastic, somewhat frustrated tone. "I barely have a girlfriend and you treat me like I have the plague."
"The plague? Really, Wes? You come over to my house just about every other day."
"Yeah, but if I take a step toward you, you take a step back."
I stared at him in disbelief. I wanted to tell him that those were measures I had to take in order to keep myself from falling to pieces in his presence—but he already knew that, didn't he?
"I need to get dressed," I said. "I have to leave in like three minutes."
He stood up. "I'm probably gonna hang out and use the wall for a little while if you don't mind."
"That's fine," I said, stashing my cosmetic bag in the cabinet. "Just lock up when you leave."