“I’m not uncomfortable,” Kim insisted with a blush.
“Just saying you’re better than those plastic bimbos,” Wes spoke to a frowning Kim. Back to me he said, “I’m not trying to imply that you and Kim are … less than professional.” Wes’s ears were tipped red and his eyes glossy from the wine. “I’m just trying to compliment Kim. I like her, is all,” he added.
I started to speak when Kim spoke. “I appreciate that you like me. But don’t do that.” She held his gaze, her face impassive. This look was unfamiliar. It was steady, no shame or smiles. Just focused.
“Do what?” Wes drained the rest of his wine.
“Don’t insult his exes.”
That startled me. I hadn’t expected that. I thought … I don’t know what I thought.
“His exes? They’re forgettable,” Wes said.
Ma and Dad turned their attention to me, likely trying to gauge my reaction.
“So then detail why. But you don’t need to use their appearances as a reason to dislike them. Especially don’t put them down to try and give me value. And don’t group them together. They’re individuals.”
Wes blinked at her. “I wasn’t—”
“I know you were trying to compliment me. But I also know how it feels to be only ever referred to as so-and-so’s ex. Me and a few girls. A lot of the town sees us as no more than that. But we’re all complicated, living, breathing women.” She took a deep breath before turning to my father. “Can you pass the shells?
He passed it with mild shock.
“I wasn’t trying to—” Wes tried.
“It’s not your fault. Somewhere along the line men learn that the best way to compliment a woman is to insult another. But maybe reframe your thoughts. Because if you would have told me something like, his ex liked to kick puppies, then I’d be like, ‘Yeah she does not sound awesome.’ But blanket statements about all women just end up hurting us all in the end.”
Kim was not argumentative. She wasn’t angry. In fact, she seemed totally in her element—borderline fired-up—discussing this. She scooped another shell and brought it to her plate. “Seriously, these are so amazing. It’s just ricotta, right?” Her focus went from my mother back to Wes. “All I’m saying is, think about the person before you make those comments.”
“That’s a good point. I never thought about it like that,” Ma said, wheels turning behind her eyes.
Wes’s ears were entirely red now. He was the charming one who got away with saying whatever. It wasn’t that I thought he was particularly offensive in general, but he did have a sense of humor that didn’t always vibe with my own.
“I wasn’t trying to start something here,” he said.
Finally, Kim noticed we were all staring at her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Did I upset you?” Wes asked apologetically.
Kim’s head turned to me, her hands spread out. “I’m not upset at all. I thought we were just talking? I’m just saying we, as a people, need to learn how to compliment women without making it about something as superficial and subjective as looks or by tearing down other women. But I’m not mad at all.” She smiled and shrugged.
“We don’t really talk about this sort of stuff at dinner,” Wes said.
“Oh, you should. Dinners are the best time. Especially when your wife and girls were here. Think about what they hear and pick up on. It adds up.”
“That’s true,” Ma said with a thoughtful nod.
“Ma, did you make dessert?” I asked, shooting a very clear look at Wes though I spoke to her, effectively ending the topic.
“Of course,” Ma said.
Kim’s eyes widened. “Fantastic.”
Chapter 16
Rosin is not a condiment; apply with restraint.
KIM
“Did I seem preachy?” I stopped wiping the dish to survey Devlin. It was a reflex to shutdown causal misogyny when I was comfortable around people. “I just get defensive of women being clumped into a set category. I hope I didn’t offend your family. I loved them.”
Devlin grinned with a blush. I would never get tired of having full access to his face.
“You didn’t offend. My mom seemed pleased. She asked me to have you send her the links to those TED talks.” He set down a plate and turned to me. “Wes’ll lick his wounds and be okay. He’s just used to being the guy that everybody likes. Typically, only Kelly challenges him that way. I certainly liked it.”
We stacked up the dried dishes. I was stuffed from the stuffed shells; turned out you were what you ate. His parents and brother left after dessert and, all in all, I’d had a wonderful time. It was long dark by now and I couldn’t see out the window in the kitchen—only our reflections in the slowly fogging glass—but the wind whipped loudly through the pines, making the house whistle.
“My parents always have the most random variety of people over. Their debates are so intense. Everyone yells and talks over each other, but in a friendly way. It’s sort of like that with the SWS, too. I forget not everybody is like that,” I explained.
I had the warm glow that accompanied good company. Granted, when I came back upstairs from the encounter, I was in total freak-out mode. I had done an incredible job, if I could say so myself, of containing my internal screaming all through dinner. Now, it was just a matter of not drooling openly at his handsome face every time I looked at him.
All the years I had stared at his poster in my room … how could I have not seen it earlier? I couldn’t blame the beard, though that was a surprising new addition. I had thought Wes was handsome but after seeing them side-by-side, it was evident that Wes was the copy/pasted version of a low-quality screenshot in comparison to his brother. Devlin had matured into the sharp angles of a man’s face. His nose was strong and proud. His beard full but trimmed. Every time our gazes clashed, I thought I might scream, “Erik Jones is here!”
“It was a nice dinner,” Devlin said. “He shouldn’t have been trying to grill you anyway. He got a little taste of being put on the spot.”
“Yeah. I guess I just felt really comfortable.” I sighed and leaned my back against the kitchen counter.
He reached up to put a clean plate away. His shirt lifted to reveal a thin flash of muscular abs. I needed more time with those abs. I wanted to be able to sculpt him from marble just from my memories. Thank goodness he couldn’t hear my thoughts. I was doing my best to not be weird, but I was still shook. Every time I thought about his body … every time I looked at his flawless face … SHOOK, I say.
He’d been watching me watch him. I was being obvious, wasn’t I? Shoot. But I had to ask. I needed to understand why he hid from the world. There was no reason. Unless being too beautiful was a crime? “Devlin, I—”
“Tell me more about these dinner parties your parents have?” He turned away to wipe off the counters. “I’m envisioning the art world’s who’s-who, bottles of wine, and late-night heated debates over political and social issues.”