Wish Upon A Star by Jasinda Wilder

Wish Upon A Star by Jasinda Wilder

Author:Jasinda Wilder [Wilder, Jasinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948445672
Publisher: Jasinda Wilder
Published: 2021-10-14T18:30:00+00:00


We pack up, check the room for belongings, check out, and have breakfast. The waitress recognizes Wes even with his “celebrity disguise,” but she’s cool about it and doesn’t make a scene. When we’re done, he tips more than double the total of the bill—his signature on the line is illegible. He signs the back of the other receipt as an autograph, with a little note saying thank you for letting him eat in peace.

We head out, then, and it’s great to be back on the road.

We’re a good half an hour into the drive when my phone dings—I’d let it die while I was sick, and it’s charging in the console cupholder.

The message is from Mom: You said you’d call, Jolene. Are you okay? Things with Wes are good? I miss you.

I glance at Wes. “I should call her.”

He nods. “Go for it. Normally I’d try to give you privacy, but there’s not much I can do about that while I’m driving. If you want, I can pull over and stand outside?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine.”

I call her, and she answers before it rings once. “Jolene! I miss you so much, baby girl! How are you?”

“I’m okay, Mom. I’m good. I’m great!”

She laughs. “Okay, good, or great? Which is it?”

“I didn’t call because I had a couple days of not feeling well. But I’m better now.”

She knows what that means. “How did he handle it?”

“As well as could be expected. It hit like it always does, pretty suddenly. But he stayed with me and wasn’t, like, weird about it. We were at a hotel, so there wasn’t much for him to eat or to do, though, so hopefully we’ll get to his place in LA before I feel like that again.”

“Are you…” A pause, as she considers how to say what she’s thinking, and I can almost hear what she’s going to ask before it comes out. “How is everything with him? You’re in the car with him, I assume.”

“It’s amazing, Mom, and yes, I am.”

“Am I on speaker?”

“No.”

“Is he…he’s not…” She drops her voice. “He’s not pressuring you to do anything you’re not ready for, is he?”

“Mom, no. He’s not. It—he—this—us, this whole thing…it’s better in every way than I could even have dreamed of.”

She’s silent a moment. “Are you…are you being safe? We didn’t talk about that, specifically, and we should have.”

“God, Mom.”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, first, and second, don’t god, Mom me about this. It’s important.”

I huff, glance at Wes, who’s doing his dead-level best to pretend he’s not hearing everything I’m saying. My instinct is to whisper, because part of me is embarrassed. But I don’t.

“Mom…” I sigh. “Okay, fine. Here’s the truth. We haven’t quite gotten to…that, yet, if you must know. But when we get to that point, we’ll have that conversation. Okay?”

“It’s not really a conversation, Jolene. You use protection. It’s very, very simple.”

I groan. “Actually, Mom, it’s not. Not for me. You realize I’ve spent the better part of eleven years undergoing chemotherapy and radiation.



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