Page 62 of I Blame the Dimples
“Wes is going to explain everything once he’s back. Let’s wait and find out what he has to say before you go storming into the recovery room, scaring all the patients.”
“There’s only one patient I want to scare right now.” Stella scowls as she slumps back on the couch.
After our talk this morning, my roommate seems to be on more stable ground. Or maybe it was the 2-hour follow up gym session that helped her calming process. Stella’s flawless makeup is back in place, and her hair is pulled into a tight ponytail that separates into miniature braids flowing past her shoulder blades. If you don’t look too closely at the expertly applied concealer, Stella looks no different than any other day: confident and ready to conquer the day.
A knock on our door has her bolting for the door. Swinging it wide open, Stella grabs Wes and pulls him inside.
“Tell us everything you know.” I bite back a smile at the aggressive approach. Poor Wes looks exhausted and ready to collapse, but it’s heartwarming to see Stella’s fiery personality spark back to life.
“He’s got one more MRI to go, and if nothing drastic comes out of that, Cody will be home in time for dinner.” Still wearing his game jersey, Wes shuffles from side-to-side. “You might want to give him a few days, Stella. I’ve never seen him look so bad.”
Stella waves her hand impatiently, “I don’t care what he looks like.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. He’s just not ready to see anyone, physically or emotionally. It’s not that hedoesn’twant to see you, he just doesn’t have the strength or energy right now.” Stella takes a step back as if she’s been hit.
“I see.” Hurt flashes through her dark blue eyes before a neutral mask takes its place. “In that case, I’ll make sure not to bother him. I wouldn’t want todrainCody with my presence.” Stella turns and marches into her room, slamming the door behind her.
Wes turns to me with wide eyes, “Was it something I said?”
Shaking my head, I sigh, “She’s had a rough 24 hours. I’ll talk to her later.”
Taking a step closer, I reach out a finger to smooth the worry line etched between his brows. Wes closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine. I do my best to keep my eyes open, wanting to count how many freckles line his perfect nose, but my vision goes blurry and I find myself closing my eyes as well.
“I need a nap.” Wes’ gruff voice tugs my lips into a smile, and I choose to keep my eyes closed for a moment longer.
“A shower wouldn’t hurt either."
Wes chuckles and inches away, just enough so I can open my eyes without making myself dizzy. Flecks of gold sparkle through vibrant green and the mystery to Wes’ sparkling eyes is finally solved.
“I’m going to go shower then nap, but maybe you could come over and I can make you dinner tonight?”
Despite my efforts to keep a straight face, a smile tugs at my lip. “You mean like a date?”
“Exactly like a date.” Wes drops into a bow, holding his hand out like a Disney prince proposing a dance. “Trip, would you do me the honour of feasting with me tonight?”
Rubbing my chin in consideration, I let the lacrosse player sweat a few seconds before giving him a beaming smile, “I would love to.”
With a flash of movement, Wes has picked me up and is spinning me around the room. I squeal as my legs go flying through the air and we somehow manage to miss the old TV set and patchy sofas. He finally puts me down and kisses me briefly on the lips.
“Dinner is at seven. Wear anything you like.” He moves towards the door then pauses, flashing me a set of dimples. “Or nothing at all.”
The door shuts and I’m left standing in our living room, body flushed from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes. I know Wes is joking, but there’s a part of me that’s intrigued.
Conflicting thoughts start to crowd my brain and my head starts to pound. For someone who's always been behind on social etiquette it’s safe to say my experience in relationships lacks an equal amount, if not more.
I think it’s time to call in the calvary.
“STELLA!” My roommate’s door creaks open and a platinum ponytail peeks out. Given we are not five feet away, the shout was a touch on the dramatic side.
“I need your help.” My cheeks redden as a smirk creeps over Stella’s face. It’s pretty obvious she’s been eavesdropping, yet she still raises an eyebrow in question.
“Yes?”
I gulp, gesturing helplessly towards the door through which Wes departed. “I have a date.”
Stalking out of her room like a tiger on the hunt, Stella circles me slowly. “So, I heard. And what, may I ask, is the goal for tonight’s date?” Her outburst from earlier seems to be momentarily forgotten.
“Er, well, it’s not that I have agoalper say, but theoretically speaking, if this is almost our thirdofficialdate…” I trail off and let my flushed cheeks fill in the rest.