That call was the first meeting of many that would fill my day, but when I texted Wesley to let him know I would have to skip lunch, he didn’t reply.
The worry that colored the rest of my afternoon was inevitable, until Miles sent me a picture of Grayson and Wesley talking in my driveway with a message promising me my only brother was safe and accounted for.
Thank you, I texted him, to which he responded simply—
I love you, Hendrix.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Miles
Grayson had takento Wesley like white on rice, and part of me wondered if it was a way for him to apologize for assuming Wesley had ever been anything besides Hendrix’s wayward little brother. Knowing him now, even in the slightest way, the resemblances were uncanny, and not just physically.
Wesley was how I imagined Hendrix had been at the same age. Before he’d had his heart broken, before he’d been forced into adulthood. Wesley was nothing more than unbridled curiosity stacked on top of the shortest attention span known to man. That was one place they differed, I supposed. Hendrix had such an innate attention to detail, I figured he must have been born with it. That wasn’t something someone could learn. It was easy to think about Hendrix’s fingers on my skin as proof of his dedication, but I didn’t want to getthatdistracted so early in the day.
Even after Grayson and Wesley had set off together, windows down in Grayson’s car and some miserable screamo blasting from the radio, I’d struggled to turn my focus back to work.
The weekend had been a whirlwind, with lots of feelings left for me to unpack and then decipher. I’d had no intention of taking Hendrix to meet Marzena, but when he asked for my favorite restaurant, it wasn’t even a question. And what was left for me to lose? I’d already told him that I loved him. My heart was on the table and there were only two ways things could go.
Bad or worse.
Falling in love was bad. Falling out of love, probably worse.
I hadn’t loved anyone since Grayson, and the feelings I had for Hendrix undoubtedly fucking dwarfed the way I’d cared for my best friend. I was certain that meant something important, at least as much as Marzena’s smiling approval of him had, but it was just another thing I didn’t want to think too long about.
I got lost in my head, and a knock on the door startled me so badly I almost screamed. Puffing my breath out loudly, I went to the door and pulled it open, finding Hendrix on my porch. My brain supplied a memory from not too far in the past, with him on the porch, face colored with anger. He wasn’t upset this time, though. The lines around his eyes were a little deeper than normal, the muscles in his throat tight, but when he saw me, he softened. It was slight, and would have been unnoticeable to someone who hadn’t made a hobby of studying the shape and curve of his face, but fortunately—or otherwise—I was someone who’d made it a hobby.
“He’s out with Gray,” I said, stepping to the side and making room for him to come in.
“Thank you.” Hendrix scrubbed a hand down his face and closed the door behind him, stepping into the house. “It’s been a long day.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened? Or do you want me to distract you with my talented tongue?” I waggled my brows, then cocked my head toward the kitchen, gesturing for him to follow.
He laughed under his breath. “I don’t know if your tongue would be enough.”
“My ass then?” I gave it a shake, making a show of bending over to open the fridge. I had left half a bottle of white wine in the door, and I passed it to Hendrix to go in search of clean glasses.
“A worthy contender.” He sighed and slid onto one of the barstools at the island. “But talking is probably best.”
I set glasses down and took the seat beside him, arranging myself while he poured us each a drink.
“Let’s hear it.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“There’s more than just Wesley?” I asked, raising my glass.
He clinked the edge of his glass against mine and took a swallow before making an affirmative sound.
“I’m all ears,” I reminded him. “Do you want feedback or do you want me to just listen?”
He turned sharply at my question, brows furrowed like I’d asked if he wanted to go to the moon or the bottom of the Marianas trench.
“What?” I asked, not sure what had caused the confusion.
“You would…just…listen?”
“If that’s what you need.” I tilted my head to the side, his expression still cloudy. “Has no one ever offered that before?”
