“What’s going on with your mom? Why is she mad at you?”
His neck went bright red, and the way his flush crawled up his jawline to the tips of his ears was too damn sexy not to tease him about.
“What’s this look?” I asked, bumping his knee with mine.
His breath hitched, and he almost spilled coffee on himself. Again. He took a few seconds to calm himself, then finally managed to look me in the eye.
Oh, hey there, beautiful.
“I had a conversation about boundaries with her, and it didn’t go well.”
It took a second for the words to register. “Wait. You’re still having to set boundaries?”
“Yep,” he grunted, then took a sip of coffee.
“What kind of boundaries are we talking about?” I asked, not liking the discomfort I read in his posture.
He took another swallow, then palmed his cup with both hands. “The kind of boundaries that prevent embarrassment. The kind I really wish she would honor.”
“Oh, there’s gotta be more to this story.” I leaned in, curious.
He dipped his chin, again avoiding eye contact. “I gave her the key to my apartment for emergencies, and she keeps letting herself in.”
Comprehension struck, and I hid my smile. “Don’t tell me, she let herself in at an inopportune moment.”
He hid behind his coffee. “Highly inopportune.”
I leaned forward, rubbing his thigh. “She’ll come around. Boundaries are hard, but mamas love their kids.”
His eyes landed on my hand, and his hips shifted. “Don’t know about that. Pretty sure she still blames me for Annalee’s death.”
I pulled my hand back, feeling awkward about the flirty touching.
Annalee’s death had been one of the worst tragedies in Seguin history, and no one—not one single person—could reasonably think Walker held any responsibility. It had been raining all that day, and dusk was an especially tricky time to navigate the roads. Annalee had always been a careful driver, but she’d overcorrected when a dog darted out in front of her, and the car was still going highway speed when they hit a tree.
Annalee had died on impact, and Walker had been seriously injured. I didn’t remember all the details, just that his knee was fucked up enough to end his baseball career before it began. I also remembered attending the funeral and thinking that his parents seemed agitated by all the sobbing teenagers.
Mom explained to me that grief hits each person differently, and that we had to be kind even when they’d seemed rude in the years after her death.
I couldn’t help but imagine how differently my parents would have handled the situation, though. They’d be gutted if I died, but they’d have found a way to bring good from it. Not a lot of folks knew this, but my mom lost a baby early in pregnancy about four years after she had me. We always did something together on the anniversary of Sabryna’s death, and it usually involved helping others.
Given what I’d observed of the Walker family’s behavior, I couldn’t help fearing—despite my automatic reassurance just a few seconds ago—that if Walker chose to live his truth, they’d choose judgment over acceptance. Beckett was right, though. I couldn’t navigate this for Walk.
One of the reasons I’d never gotten serious with anyone, at least beyond college crushes, was that I’d never felt for them the potential for what I saw between my parents. In the last few weeks, however, I’d started to think that Walker might be the kind of man who’d understand that level of devotion.
Wanting to distract him from the realities of his life, I nudged him again. “I’m sorry to hear your mom’s being so unreasonable. You don’t deserve that, Walk. You’re such a good guy, and you do so much for the community. Hell, think about what we’ll be doing this Saturday.”
He sent me a painful grin. “And wouldn’t you know? Dad put me on the schedule that day. So on top of everything, I have to tell him, yet again, that I’m booked.”
“Shit, dude. That sucks. But those kids at Lupe will love having bunk beds that actually fit them.”
“I know. I thought it’d be harder to get Dr. Gardner’s approval, but the mayor has incentivized community service in the schools by offering landscaping upgrades to the school that does the most community service. Dr. Gardner wants those upgrades, big-time.”
I rubbed my hands together. “Then let’s get your school on the map. Do you have everything you need for Saturday? What can I help with?”
He ran a weathered, calloused hand along the back of his neck. “Not gonna lie, I’m worried we might run short on wood. And nails. And wood glue, now that I think about it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I can’t make this happen.”
“You on your own? Probably not. But you don’t have to do it all. You show up with what you got; we’ll help out with the rest. If we get into it and need more, then we hit Sawyer with the puppy eyes and he’ll do some Venmo magic.”
