But I also knew that with Grayson by his side, he was about to get a crash course in a lot of new experiences. For better or for worse.
“Miles doesn’t make him pay rent so he has a ton of money in the bank.”
“Go on,” I muttered, steepling my fingers together and rubbing the bridge of my nose. I needed to find a way to get right with Grayson and sooner rather than later, because between Miles and Wesley, I was never going to be rid of him.
And that was when it hit me.
The realization in the marrow of my bones that I wanted him to be around because I wanted Miles around. And I wanted him there for the long haul. I wanted to deal with his petty bouts of jealousy and the makeup sex he offered as a consolation when he came around. I wanted his coffee in the mornings and his arms around me at night. The parts of life that Miles offered me were important, they had so quickly become integral, and I didn’t want to lose them by acting like a snotty old man whenever he slipped up.
Together, he and I were both in relatively uncharted territory. The least he deserved was for me to put in the time unlearning the preconceptions I’d developed about what it meant to be with someone younger than me. Because hadn’t he knocked down every idea at every turn? Miles continually proved to me that he loved me, that he deserved my love in return.
It was high time I started putting in some work myself to do the same.
“He’s going to look for an apartment and I’m going to go back to Brixton and get everything packed.”
“And then?” I closed my eyes, already tired.
“When he’s found a place, that’s where I’ll go.”
“And work?” I asked. “How are you going to pay rent? Are you going to enroll in classes out here? I’m sure your credits will tr—”
Wes cut me off, “I don’t know, Henny. I don’t know any of that, but I know Grayson is going to find an apartment and I’m going to move in with him.”
“The rent?”
“Don’t know.”
“Where?”
“Don’t know.” Wesley let out a quiet laugh. “We can do this all night.”
“This is careless.”
“Sounds exactly like what a twenty year-old would say about anything a twenty year-old chooses to do.”
“That’s unfair.” I scrubbed a hand down my face and pushed away from the table. “I told you that I’d help you with Mom, I’m not trying to talk you out of this. I’m just asking you basic questions, Wesley. The real simple things that adults need to worry about, okay?”
“Fine,” he grumbled, nose scrunched. “Thank you.”
“What was that?” I cupped my hand around my ear and leaned closer to him. “I didn’t quite hear you.”
“I fucking hate you,” he said, louder.
“I love you too.”
Wesley pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tapped out a text message at lightning speed. A reply came through quick and relief washed over his features.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“Grayson.”
“Checking in to let him know I didn’t murder you?” I asked.
Wes smirked. “Something like that.”
He moved to return his phone to his pocket, but I held up a hand, telling him to stop.
“What?”
