Rewrite The Future

Chapter 32: Dean's POV

The room falls deathly silent apart from the noise of the contents of Whiskey's handbag spilling out across the marble floor. A look of confusion and shock overtakes her face, but it does nothing to conceal the pure beauty that is Jessica Morgan. It feels like forever since I've seen that cute blush which covers her cheeks or kissed her gorgeous lips that always taste of cherries. I swear this girl was made for me. I physically have to restrain myself from going to her. We are standing metres apart but there may as well be an ocean between us. She blankly stares at me, as if she is taking in every single detail of me but somehow also seeing nothing at all. She says nothing and once she catches me staring back at her, she redirects her eyes to focus on something just above my head. It hurts to see her so closed off towards me so instead I distract myself by focusing on the piece of shit standing beside her.

Wes looks just as confused as Jessica but the fury in his eyes lets me know that he is not happy to see me standing here. By the way he clenches his jaw and fists, I'd say the presence of Whiskey's parents is the only thing keeping him from lunging at me. I can't even hide the smirk covering my face. Did he really think I'd let him get away with blackmailing my girl? He must be even dumber than he is egotistical if he actually thought that was the case. The second I had beaten a confession out of him, I started working on a plan.

"What the hell is this?" Wes fumes, his head snapping from me to Jess, silently asking if she was in on this.

A deer caught in headlights look overtakes her face as her eyes widen at the accusation. Jess must take too long to answer his question as he grows impatient.

"Well, what the fuck, Jess?" It's pathetic how much he reminds me of a little kid stomping his feet right now.

"Weston that's quite enough." Jessica's mother interprets before Jess can answer him. "Why don't we all have a seat in the dining room?" She poses it as a question but the tone in her voice leaves no room for argument.

However, that apparently isn't obvious to Wes as he continues to object. "Nah, fuck this." He fumes, reaching to press a button in the elevator.

"You will have a seat, Weston if you know what's good for you." Jess's father's voice booms shaking the penthouse. I'm surprised the fancy chandelier remains in one piece above our heads.

That gets Wes moving. He storms into the dining room much like the spoilt brat I've grown to hate. Jess's parents are quick on his trail, leaving Jess and I in the entryway.

We just stare at each other for several moments. A million thoughts are swirling through my head so fast that I can't pinpoint a single one. A million things I should say, a million things I want to say, a million things, and yet I settle for,

"Hey".

My heart threatens to jump out of my chest as it beats faster than it has ever beaten before. It feels like an eternity as I wait for Whiskey to say something. Say anything. I wait so long that I feel my heart start to sink with the realisation that this might be the last thing Jess wants. Why did I assume she would want me to go to her parents for help? I should have gone to her. Should have consulted her. We are supposed to be a team after all. Going behind her back and making decisions for her makes me no better than Wes. Fuck.

My palms grow sweaty, and my breathing starts to come quicker than normal. I swear to God if I have a fucking panic attack before Jess starts cursing me out, I will die of Goddamn embarrassment. This was a bad idea. What was I thinking? Just as I'm about to drop to my knees at Jess's feet and beg for forgiveness, I see the corners of her gorgeous mouth curve up into a beautiful smile. Once I see that perfect smile of hers, a smile that she has crafted and given just to me, my heart begins to calm, and my breath becomes easier to swallow down.

"Hi." She replies so softly that if my entire being wasn't captivated by her I might have missed it.

My breath catches in my throat again as she slowly walks towards me with intent in her eyes. She stops mere inches from me. Close enough that her fruity scent envelops me. God, she smells phenomenal. I've missed her smell. I've missed her laugh. Her smile. Her touch. It seems surreal now that she is so close.

"Thank you," She whispers, that cute smile of hers still covering her pretty face.

"I haven't done anything yet," I reply with a chuckle.

"You've done more than you know. But also thank you for whatever is about to happen next."

She stretches up on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss against my cheek before heading into the dining room.

I fail to suppress a groan before trailing after my gorgeous girl, mentally making a vow to keep her locked up in my bedroom for a full week once the downfall of Wes Hudson is confirmed.