I look around the kitchen here and notice all the shit that I wouldn’t usually notice. A floorboard that’s a little loose. The scuffs along the doggy door that Coco gets dirty. I’d assume Weston’s tidy, proper, rich-boy attitude should be flipping the fuck out in here, but…
He seems to genuinely like it.
And I still can’t fucking believe he is in our house.
Niko’s already breaking off into a chat with Mom about the latest season of some show they both watch, and I take the moment to pull Wes aside.
“Hey,” I say, giving him a nod. “Come here for a sec.”
I push open the door to the back porch. The sun just went down and the sky is still purple on the horizon, and the low clicking of the sprinkler fills the back lawn.
He pulls in a long breath as he steps out.
His blue eyes look big and sweet as he looks at me, not quite bashful, but tender in a way I don’t know how to handle.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Why are you here?”
“Niko mentioned that you were at home with your mom. Keeping an eye on her. I thought you could use some extra help.”
“I don’t need help.”
He blinks at me. “Okay.”
“I’ve never needed help. I’ve been taking care of things for myself, and for my mother, for my entire life.”
He furrows his brow. “So you’re pissed that Niko and I brought you food and some company?”
“I’m not pissed, but I don’t understand your motive. It’s completely unnecessary, and unplanned, and I’m used to doing things on my own, Weston. My mother doesn’t even know you.”
He puffs out a breath. “She seems a lot more thankful and welcoming than you are.”
I breathe deep, looking up at the darkening sky. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a dick. I just don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to understand. All you have to do is realize that some people actually do want to help. There is no other motive. I heard that your mom struggled in the past with painkillers, and that’s brutal, Sevan.”
I frown. “Niko told you?”
He nods, looking out at the horizon, then back at me. “Yep. So maybe my dark, sinistermotiveis that I just have some goddamn empathy. Okay?”
The storm raging inside me begins to subside, just a little.
I listen to the sprinkler as it slows down and then stops, and the air around us turns serene.
“The mac and cheese looked very good,” I tell him.
He lifts an eyebrow. “It better be good. I’m about to break my strict diet by eating it with you.”
I let out a long sigh. “There’s no one else like you, Weston Knox.”
He cuts me a glance. “Good. I don’t want to be like everyone else.”
“Trust me. You’re better than most people could even pretend to be. Let’s get inside before Niko convinces Mom to rewatch some reality show about housewives.”
Coco greets us as we walk in again, and for one night, I try to accept what’s happening.
Other people do just want to help sometimes.