Pretenders (Firsts and Forever 3)

I climbed onto Wes’s lap and wrapped my arms and legs around him, and Wes held me with one arm as he told my friend, “I’d better go so I can take care of Ash. Thank you again for calling me. I promise I’ll keep him safe.” They said goodbye before disconnecting the call. Wes slipped the phone in my jacket pocket, then wrapped both arms around me and asked, “Are you okay, sweetness?”

“Yeah, but I’m bad at shots. Chet and his assistants weren’t even tipsy. I didn’t realize just how shit-faced I was until I stood up.” I rested my head on his shoulder and asked, “Did you have a nice dinner?”

“The food was great, but the company was mediocre. I would have much rather spent it with you.”

I sat up and squashed his cheeks between my palms as I blurted, “I don’t want you to move to Washington, D.C., Wes. I was going to play it cool, because I never want to stand in your way with your career or anything else. I’d hate that, knowing I made you miss out on something you really wanted. But it would suck so bad if you moved to the other side of the country.”

“I have no interest in that job.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head. “I agreed to listen to what Doctor Blanchard had to say for my mother’s sake, then politely turned him down. I have no intention of leaving San Francisco.”

I let go of his face and draped my arms over his shoulders. “But you don’t like it in San Francisco. You’re lonely there, and you live in that blah, gray apartment, and you only know like, two people.”

“All of that was true. But then I met this sweet, quirky, beautiful guy with lavender hair, and now the last thing I want is to put a continent between us.”

“That’s literally the best news ever,” I told him, “and I know you can be happy there. I’ll help you build a whole new family, because the one you have now is kind of terrible, except for Millie and her parents. They’re awesome, and they need to come visit. But everyone else can suck it.”

Wes chuckled and said, “Let’s continue this conversation after I take you to bed. If I try to move you, are you going to throw up on me?”

“No. I’m determined not to barf.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Five shots, I think? Over two hours or so?”

“That’s not great, since you had champagne and a cocktail beforehand.”

“It wasn’t on an empty stomach. Otherwise, I’d be unconscious.” He picked me up and started carrying me, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him as I asked, “Where are we going?”

“I’m sticking with the original plan of the boathouse. The main house is just way too crowded tonight, and we wouldn’t have any peace or privacy.”

The boathouse turned out to offer plenty of both. It was a large building with a glass wall facing the lagoon, and it was divided into three parts. One side was a garage of sorts which contained four kayaks, two jet skis, and a lot of snorkeling and diving equipment. The other side was a game room with a huge TV and movie library, foosball, ping pong, and pool tables, and an overstuffed blue canvas couch and two chairs. In between was a locker room with a shower and bathroom.

Wes locked the door behind us and pulled the curtains, just in case anyone got the same idea about seeking refuge here. Meanwhile, I stripped down to my briefs because I was overheated, then found a beach towel to use as a blanket and curled up on the couch.

I began flipping through a digital film archive, and I called, “What kind of movies do you like?”

“Sci fi mostly. I enjoy the escapism.”

“Nice. Me, too,” I said. “I think a movie is a good idea since I’m too drunk to mess around. As soon as I sober up though, watch out. I’m gonna be all over you like a piranha with a pork chop.” I thought about that and added, “That’s a pretty gross analogy. Sorry.”

He laughed as he sat down at the opposite end of the couch and moved my feet onto his lap. He’d pared down his outfit to just his pants and shirt, and he unfastened the button at his throat before rolling back his cuffs.

After a few moments, I said, “Pick a Chris.”

“What?”

“Hemsworth, Pine, Evans, or Pratt? Your answer determines our movie.”

He said, “I’m going with Pine because that’ll probably result in a Star Trek film.”

“Are you a Trekkie?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“That’s awesome,” I said. “I’m a huge Star Wars nerd.”

“I’m not sure if you’re kidding.”

“Why would I be?”

“You don’t seem the type.”

I sat up with a big smile, letting the beach towel slide off me. Then I turned my back to him. “I’m not sure if the light in here is bright enough to see it, but take a look at my right shoulder blade.”