IMPORTANT NOTE: Please read!
Hey my lovely readers! Before you read this chapter, please be advised that there is...well, erm, mature content ahead. 🙈
I want this chapter to be available to all my readers, regardless of age, so if you want the FULL chapter, I have a link in the comments where you can download it and read it.
Otherwise, you won't miss anything important! Pinky promise!
(Also, if you're not over 18, probably don't read the full chapter... but I can't really stop you so go ahead if you wanna.)
And... well... enjoy? *shrugs awkwardly*
The tension between us in the cab was undeniable. After everything that had happened back there... I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what Wesley was thinking—what he thought of me now. But even now, he was taking me back to the hotel instead of going out with his friends. He was trading his last night out in Tokyo so that I could get cleaned up. And where there should have been awkward air between us, there was nothing but unresolved tension.
What was I meant to make of that?
When we got out of the cab and walked to the glass door, he opened it for me. I nodded a thank you, not trusting myself to speak. I'd been noting his every move, every gesture, every word since we left the restaurant.
When we got to the elevator, his proximity was overwhelming. We stood side by side, not looking at each other. But I wanted to—the urge was overpowering, and I wondered if it felt the same for him. The minimal space between us made the room so freaking hot and I swear he could hear my heart beating ten times harder.
Finally, we stepped out into the corridor and back to the hotel room. He unlocked the door, and again, let me go first. I held my clutch to my chest and looked around the room as I walked slowly into it.
We still hadn't decided where I was going to sleep. I'd assumed the floor—and honestly, I was fine with that. It was better than a street bench. I slowly turned around, watching Wesley click the door shut, hearing the automatic lock click back into place.
He didn't waste a second before he turned and strode over to me, and my heart began to race. I didn't know how to act, or think, or feel—but I felt everything, all my feelings, flooding to the surface and desperately tried to bury them. I couldn't believe I'd kissed him back there—what the hell had I been thinking?
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked, stopping just inches from me. His expression was more concern than accusation—but there was something else there. Something I couldn't quite place. It kind of felt like... eagerness?
"What's there to say, really?" I asked, my words coming out like sandpaper. I covered how dry they sounded with an awkward laugh. "We should just forget about it, honestly—"
He stopped me as I tried to turn away, grabbing my arm to pull me back and gently prying my clutch from my hands, so that I could no longer pathetically hide behind it. He let it fall onto a nearby table with a clatter, his eyes not leaving mine.
"Do you have feelings for me?" he asked, his voice low.
Geez, Wesley, way to be bold.
"You're... you're going to kick me out, aren't you?" I breathed, as all my fears tumbled into my mind. It was so obvious by now that I'd screwed up, so obvious I'd ruined everything. "I understand— it would be weird if we're living together and I have feelings for you, and you didn't and—"
YOU ARE READING
Life of WrenTeen Fiction
It started with a Starbucks drink, and it ended in a viral meme. Nineteen-year-old Wren Robinson had it all- the perfect boyfriend, an architecture degree, and a life of comfort and luxury- until she threw it all away to chase a dream of living in L...