“Aww,” he coos. “Bennett’s got feelings.”
“I don’t,” I snap.
“You do,” Weston insists. “You’re just allergic to acknowledging them.”
Kai sets a plate in the drying rack with a little more force than necessary—quiet irritation, not temper.
“Cooper,” Kai says, tone clipped, “drop it.”
Weston spreads his arms. “I’m trying to bond. Team chemistry.”
Kai’s eyes narrow. “Team chemistry doesn’t require you to interrogate my roommate.”
Weston’s brows lift. “Ooh. Protective. Is this about Bennett or?—”
Kai cuts him off before he can finish. Not harsh—final.
“It’s about keeping my house respectful,” Kai says. “And keeping you from being an idiot.”
Weston blinks once, then grins like he’s proud. “Copy that. Respectful idiots only.”
Kai points at the door. “Ten minutes.”
Guys start filtering out with lazy complaints, grabbing hoodies and keys and leftover chips like raccoons. When it’s just the four of us, the apartment feels bigger. Quieter. Like now the walls can hear us.
Weston rummages through the fridge. “Do we have anything that isn’t eggs?”
Kai doesn’t look up from the counter he’s wiping. “No.”
Weston sighs dramatically. “Tragic.”
Asher grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I’m heading out. Homework.”
Weston points at him. “NERD.”
Asher’s eyes flick to me. “You good?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Asher pauses like he’s debating whether to say more, then just nods once—simple, solid—and heads out. The door shuts. Weston waits exactly one second before he turns into a menace again.
“So,” he says, leaning on the counter like he’s hosting a talk show. “Bennett.”
Kai’s head snaps up. “Don’t.”
Weston holds up his hands. “I’m not talking about your sister. I’m talking abouthim.”
Kai’s stare stays sharp. “Then choose your words better.”
Weston grins. “Okay, Captain.”
Kai points at the door. “Leave.”
Weston holds up a finger. “One more thing.”
Kai’s eyes could freeze water. “Weston.”
And for once, Weston actually softens. Just slightly.
