“Thanks,” Toby said. “And if Wesley breaks your heart, I promise to . . . well, I would say I’d kick his ass, but we bothknow that’s physically impossible.” He frowned down at his skinny arms. “So I’ll write him a strongly worded letter.”

“God has blessed you richly, so get down on your knees and thank him. Don’t forget the less fortunate or God will personally kick your ass. I’d love to do it for him, but I can’t be everywhere.”

“Wesley took a swig of his beer, hoping that maybe the pause might give him time enough to sort out his thoughts. “Well, I never really changed my mind,” he said smoothly. “I never said no.”“I guess I just figured it was implied.”“And why is that?”“I’m pretty sure you’re way out of my league.”Wesley laughed. “I highly doubt that. I don’t even know what league I’m in.”“Well that’s just it. You’re kind of in a league of your own. Your friends; they’re both pretty flirtatious. They openly flirt with all of the waitresses but you’re this serious, focused, badass that doesn’t say more than he has to.”“Wow.” Wesley laughed. “I sound like an asshole.”

“Say it ' he said the words caught at the base of his throat. 'No one.' 'No one ' I sad I swore 'but you.' I said it because it was true. There was no one but him and there never would be. I loved him with pain and with something greater than pain with a barren ache that pealed not in the heart but in the desert dry alongside it. I know it was so even then: if in his arms I was a woman beyond them I was nothing.”

“But you don’t get social with your employees,” I remind him quietly. “I’d made an exception for you.” His face is getting close and closer. Slowly. A centimetre at a time.“But it’s your rule.”“I’ll break it for you,” he whispers.“No, don’t do that,” I say breathlessly. “Fine, then you’re fired,” he says just as his lips meet mine.”

“We’re all meant to lean on something. Or someone.' I smile. He frowns. He surprises me and grabs the pen out of my hand. He starts writing something down in his neat block letters. He slides the journal back to me. 'I build walls around myself. I lean on those.' I don’t need to ask him why. Everybody builds walls—it’s for protection. I scribble quickly. 'Maybe you should break the walls down once in a while.' 'I’ll just build them up again', he writes. 'But maybe you’ll add a few windows the next time around. Or a door?”