He slipped on his pants, went to the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. Grabbing my hand, he led me to the elevator.
Weston’s bathroom looked like something out of a luxury design magazine. Marble floors, with matching marble sink tops, recessed lighting, and polished Italian fixtures. A massive freestanding soaking tub sat near the floor-to-ceiling window, with a view one could only dream about. A glass-enclosed shower sat in the corner with an oversized rainfall showerhead. It was elegant and screamed wealth.
He set the bottle of wine and the glasses on the marble counter and turned on the water for a bath.
“Bubble bath?” I asked.
He turned with furrowed brows. “I’m a man. I don’t use bubbles.”
“Then, lucky for you, I brought some.” I grinned. “I’ll be right back.”
I took the elevator down to the first floor, retrieved my bag, and brought it upstairs. Tossing my bag on the bed, I unzipped it and grabbed the lavender-scented bubble bath. Removing the cap, I squirted some under the stream of water.
“I’ve never taken a bubble bath in my life,” Wes said.
“Now you can cross it off your bucket list,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure taking a bubble bath isn’t on my bucket list,” he smirked.
I grabbed a hairclip and twisted my hair up. Wes climbed in, extended his hand, and helped me into the tub. He lay against one side, I lay against the other, facing him while cascades of bubbles covered our bodies. He reached down, grabbed a glass of wine, and handed it to me.
“Thank you.” I grinned. “I had a good time today.”
“So did I.” He smiled. “I apologize for my grandmother. She can be very pretentious.”
“Can be?” I tipped the glass to my lips.
“Fair enough.” He chuckled.
“I want to know more about you, Wes. How long have you and Finn been best friends?”
“Finn is more of a brother to me than just a best friend. His parents and my parents were best friends, and our moms were pregnant at the same time. I was born in January, and Finn was born in May. When we were eight, my father rented a private plane to fly the four of them to St. Lucia.”
“For vacation?” I asked.
“No. A wedding. Friends of theirs were getting married. No children allowed. A few days after they left, I woke up in the middle of the night to the sounds of my grandmother crying. I’d never heard her crybefore. I woke up Finn, and we went downstairs, where two policemen were standing in the foyer. I’ll never forget the way my grandfather gripped my grandmother. It was as if he had let go, she would have collapsed. Finn and I sat on the stairs and listened as the policemen told my grandparents that my parents’ plane had crashed, and there were no survivors.”
“I am so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. Finn only had an aunt who lived in Montana. She had six kids of her own and couldn’t afford another mouth to feed, so my grandparents took Finn in, and he lived with us.”
“So your grandparents raised both you and Finn?” I asked.
“Yes. We already were attending the Dalton School through 8thgrade, and then my grandparents shipped us off to Choate Rosemary Hall in Connecticut.”
“The boarding school?” My brows furrowed.
“Yeah. We were allowed to come home one weekend a month and on holidays. My grandmother isn’t exactly the maternal type. My father was her only child, and that’s only because he was an accident. She never planned on having children, and she sure let us know. Did I answer your question?” he smirked.
“You did. But I have another one if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. What’s your question?”
“What happened between you and your ex?”
“What ex?” His brows furrowed.
“I think her name is Claudia.” I bit my bottom lip.