"Just go, Jared."
"No, let him try." Wilbur says, his words slurring. "I can handle it."
"Move, Eve." Jared mumbles, his furious eyes locked on Wilbur.
I press my hands against Jared's chest, pushing him back. "I could ruin your fucking life if you don't leave. You already barely play a minute per game, you think it'll be any better when I tell the press how you took advantage of me?"
He grinds his teeth together, glancing from Wilbur to me. "You're sort of a bitch, you know that?"
I'm stunned by his words as Wilbur scoffs. "You fucking-"
Before Wilbur can push me aside, I lift my hand up and slap Jared as hard as I can, a bit surprised by my own strength as he stumbles back. "If you don't leave right fucking now, I'll call every news team I can and let them know that your second-string ass assaulted me and America's British sweetheart. Nobody gives a shit about you, but there are plenty of fan girls that will make your life a living hell for even thinking about hurting him."
Finally, Jared realizes that I'm not worth his career, especially since I'm sure he can pick up any girl he wants. He storms down the opposite side of the hallway, and I can't help but laugh at him.
"God, how pathetic," I whisper as I turn around. For some reason, it's just now hitting me that Wilbur is here. "You punched him."
"He was trying to hurt you."
"Well, uh, thanks." I hesitate. "I got your message."
Wilbur just stares at me, waiting for more.
"Wanna come inside?"
"Sure," He mutters. I open the door and let us both inside, kicking my heels off to the side. I immediately go to my kitchen and pour myself a glass of water, desperate to get the taste of my bile out of my mouth. "You okay?"
I nod, swishing the water in my mouth and spitting it out. I grab a breath mint from my junk drawer and pop it in, hoping he's gonna kiss me. "Uh, I threw up earlier. I'm fine now. My anxiety caught up to me."
"I'm sorry," He frowns, attempting to lean back against my counter but missing it, almost falling down.
The weed in my system, the nerves from him being here, and simply the image of Wilbur's long limbs flailing around sends me over the edge. I kneel over, my hand on a cabinet handle for support as I laugh at him. For once, happy tears fall from my eyes.
"You are so cruel." Wilbur chuckles. "It wasn't that funny."
"Oh, it was," I giggle as I stand up straight and wipe my face, surely smearing my mascara even more.
"So, uh," He sighs and successfully leans against the counter. "What did you think about my voicemail?"
I lose my smile and look down at the buttons of his shirt. "You sounded really drunk. And by what you just did, you seem to still be drunk. Did you mean what you said?"
"Eve, you are the only thing on my mind." He tells me. "I mean, to be fair, I am usually drunk 24/7. But I still do completely mean what I said. There's a bunch of songs written about you as proof."
Without thinking, I blurt it out. "I love you, Will."
He breaks into a smile and looks down at his feet before back up at me. "I love you too, Eve. I'm insanely in love with you. This month apart has been terrible for me."
"Me too," I look up at him, my eyes begging for him to come closer to me. I've never had someone tell me they love me before. I just desperately hope that he means it and he's not just drunk. "I'm sorry I burned your place down. I get it if you still hate me for it."
He gives me a strange look. "I never hated you for it. I mean, yeah, I was pissed when it happened, as anyone would be. But I don't think I could ever hate you."
"I would've reached out to you sooner if I had known that."
"Since we're apologizing for stuff, I'm sorry I kept Connie's guitar hanging up. I shouldn't have made such a big deal out of it. And I promise you, for the thousandth time, that I'm over her. Sure, she was my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. But she will never compare to you."
I bite my lip as I stare at him, unable to contain my smile. "I overreacted on that. I'm sorry,"
"Don't be sorry. I wouldn't have liked it either if it was your ex."
We stay quiet for a few seconds, just looking at each other with goofy grins. "David's gonna hate us after finding us both new relationships then us immediately screwing those over."
Wilbur shrugs and, finally, steps toward me, looming over me. "He'll be fine."
I jump and sit on my counter, trying to reach his height, but I'm still a few inches shorter. "Yeah, we'll see."
Wilbur doesn't respond, but instead places his hand on my cheek, stroking my skin with his calloused thumb. He moves his face just inches from mine, both of our eyes scanning each other's faces. And after what felt like forever, Wilbur's lips and mine are finally connected again. I nearly forgot how soft his lips were as I taste the alcohol on his tongue. I suddenly feel something wet on my cheek and pull back from the kiss, seeing a couple of tears running down Will's face.
"Sorry," He mutters, lifting his arm to wipe his face.
"Why are you crying?" I ask, a bit worried that I did something wrong, somehow.
"I just... I thought I lost you. I thought I'd never get to kiss you again."
"Wilbur," I whine with a giggle, placing my hands on both sides of his face. "You are so adorable."
"Adorable?" He laughs, his nose scrunching.
"One hundred percent." I pull his face towards mine and kiss his forehead. "I'm uncomfortable in this dress. I'm gonna change. I still have your old clothes if you wanna change, too."
"Alright, darling." He holds my hands as I hop off the counter and he follows me to my room. I search through my drawers and toss him his hoodie and sweatpants while I pull on my own sweatshirt and a pair of his basketball shorts.
I step into my bathroom and gasp as I look in the mirror, my mascara and eyeliner smudged all over my face. "I look crazy, Wilbur! And a little bit racist!"
"No you don't," He laughs next to me, watching as I remove the makeup.
"Could've gotten me cancelled." I tease, hitting his arm with my hair brush before brushing out the soft waves in my hair. I pull it into a low, messy bun once I'm finished then look at Wilbur. "Are you gonna stay the night?"
"I mean, if that's okay." He says. "I've kind of been living in a hotel for the past month."
My jaw drops as he follows me out of the bathroom. "That's so expensive, Will! Could no one in the band take you in?"
"I didn't ask. I didn't wanna bother them."
"You're crazy," I tell him, sitting down on the couch. He joins me and I swing my legs over his, leaning my body against his chest. "You don't need to stay there. I know you're rich, but it'll still make a good dent in your wallet."
"Well, I don't really have anywhere else to go. And I don't have the time to look at apartments and then buy new furniture and move all of my stuff in."
I know exactly what he's insinuating, and I'm not sure if I want to do it. The last time he moved in, we immediately broke up. But he has nowhere else to go, and I love him. And I guess he's my boyfriend again. "Just move in with me. Your stuff is still here, anyway, since I never shipped it to you."
"Are you sure?" He asks, running his fingers through my hair.
"I'm sure," I lean my head up and kiss his jaw. "Now, what movie are we gonna watch?"
