Shaking his head, his warm brown eyes glisten as he grips my face between his large hands. “My name isn’t Wesley.”
My ears burn. “What?”
“It’s just Wes,” he says, his thumbs stroking my jaw. “And yes. I’m sure. I’ve never wanted anything or anyone the way I want you, Sol. You’ll never know how grateful I am that you’re here with me right now. I don’t deserve you, but I’m going to try really fucking hard to earn that honor.”
I open my mouth to argue that he does deserve me, but he pulls me to him, capturing my mouth in a gentle kiss, and my words are forgotten. My arms tighten around him and as I smile against his lips, I’m sure people are talking, but I don’t hear a damn thing.
WES
Sol’s hand tightens in mine as Jacey smiles down at everyone from the stage. When she starts explaining the story behind why she wanted to raise money and thanking everyone for their participation, I’m completely mesmerized. Hanging around with Sol, she seems younger than her fifteen years, but standing up on that stage, it’s easy to see the formidable young woman she’s on the verge of becoming.
I squeeze Sol’s fingers back as she thanks her brother, and then me, for our efforts and damn if it’s hard not to tear up. Sol wears a wide smile as he beams up at her, but I can feel the emotion pouring from him in waves.
When the crowd erupts in applause and she hands the podium over to Franklin West President, Elizabeth West herself, for a final thank you, I lean into him and whisper in his ear. “She did great.”
“Yeah, she did,” he says, smiling as she stands at the side of the stage.
“. . . so wonderful to see our Franklin West community come together,” President West says, looking over the crowd with a proud smile. “I’d like to take this opportunity to reiterate both Dean Mason and Jacey Brooker’s earlier words of thanks. Your donations and participation tonight have been outstanding, and I’m sure you all agree that our students Sol Brooker and Wes Bowers have done an incredible job putting together tonight’s event. The final amount is yet to be tallied, but I’m pleased to share with you all that we’ve raised over ten million dollars . . .”
The end of her sentence is swallowed by cheers, and at the side of the stage, Jacey clasps her hands to her face, looking like she might faint.
Sol turns to me, his eyes wide and his face lit with elation. “Holy shit!”
As the raucous applause continues, I lean in and kiss him, returning his smile with one of my own. “You did it, Solomon Brooker.”
Sol’s smile slips into a frown. “That’s not my—”
I burst into laughter, and he scowls, the tips of his ears turning red.
“I hate you,” he mutters, shoving my shoulder.
Still chuckling, I kiss his ear, then his cheek. “No. You don’t.”
As much as I’m still kicking myself for not going to Sol the second he walked into the room tonight, the rest of the evening has been a dream. A dream I’m not sure I deserve yet, but I’ll spend every second from here on out trying to earn it.
“Well done, both of you,” Sol’s dad says as West leaves the stage and people begin to move from their seats.
My throat is thick as I watch him envelop Sol in a tight hug, and I know it’s not just to do with the fundraiser. I’m so damn proud of him, too.
“Wes?”
I turn at Jacey’s voice and rise to my feet as she holds her arms open for a hug.
“Congratulations,” I say as she squeezes my middle tight enough to force the air from my lungs.
She steps back, swiping at her eyes. “Thank you so much for doing this. The center is going to lose its mind.”
My heart is already fit to burst, but as arms slide around me from behind, and Sol presses a kiss to my neck, it swells further. “It was a team effort.”
“I hope you’re going to come visit over spring break, Wes,” Sol’s mom says.
We’re off for two weeks as of tomorrow, and I haven’t really let myself think about it. Until last night, I was fully prepared to spend it wallowing at my parents’ house, mourning the loss of a reason to spend time with Sol. Now, I wonder what his plans are, because I don’t want to waste a single second not worshipping him like he deserves.
I turn in Sol’s arms, my eyebrows raised in question. “We haven’t discussed any plans yet, but I’d love to, if that’s okay with you?”
Sol grins at me. “It’s more than okay.”
“Well, I hope you’ll come visit us in Seattle, too,” my mom’s voice sounds from behind us.