I laugh. “Yeah, that’s why I said for you to come here.”
“I’m aware,” he retorts playfully.
He follows me to the kitchen, greeting my parents as they chat for a minute about the weather and Wesley’s work. Sounds like the rain we got was good for him. I’m never really sure if rain is always a good thing or not. The farming stuff goes right over my head, honestly.
I wait at the stairs as the conversation ends, my dad walking back to the living room, and Mom starting her sewing machine again.
Wesley turns around and stops just a few steps away from me. “Wait,” he whispers. “Upstairs?” His eyes narrow, like it’s the craziest thing ever.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I assure him.
The hesitation in his face raises questions in my mind. Am I the only one around here who actually believes we’re just friends?
His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “Alright…”
Getting into my room, I leave the door cracked a few inches. “I got snacks,” I say, pointing to the plate on the edge of my bed. Wes hums and slowly walks around my room, looking around. I have a few pictures hanging, mostly of me and Brantley, and a few of my family. It’s a little weird to see him in here, I guess.
He pulls out the cowhide swivel chair that sits at my vanity andsettles down into it. “Sounds good.”
I pat the empty space on the bed beside me. “You can sit here.”
He shakes his head. “Here’s fine.”
He clears his throat and looks at his Bible. “So, what’s been bothering you?” he asks, thumbing through the pages and then looking back to me.
I push the snack plate to the end of the bed and scoot down closer as well. A whiff of his cologne wafts across my nose. He put his fancy church stuff on for me? Interesting. I crisscross my legs and sigh heavier than I really mean to.
“Oh boy,” Wesley says, a small laugh escaping his lips. He sets his Bible on my vanity before adjusting himself in the chair and giving me his full attention.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, breaking our gaze. “Me and Brantley aren’t on the best terms right now. After the rodeo on Saturday.” I look back at him.
“Did something happen?”
I take in another deep breath. “He went to some club with his friends that night,” I say, and Wesley nods, waiting for me to continue. “Even after I told him I didn’t want him to. He just brushed it off…said looking and touching are two different things, and that he’s a man, so it’s in his nature.”
Wesley’s jaw tightens and he looks away for a second before looking back at me. “That’s not right.”
“I know,” I admit, a slight crack to my voice. “And honestly, I’m so over it. It happened, I can’t change the past. But I just…I hate fighting; I’m so tired. I’m tired of being angry at him all the time for not understanding or respecting me. I feel like I’m not allowed to express anything.”
“You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around yourboyfriend, Addie. Especially when he’s telling you he supposedly loves and cares about you.” His voice sounds dry at the end like the words are hard for him to say. He’s not wrong, and I know that, it’s just…the truth hurts sometimes.
“I know,” I mutter, looking down at my hands. “But I don’t know how to fix it. We have that concert this weekend, and I’m so anxious about it on top of all this now…I’m just—”
“I’m still going along,” Wesley interrupts, “He wants to be a jerk to you in front of me, he’ll have a bigger problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
I can’t help but smile, my eyes staring at his biceps for a second longer than they should. He’d snap Brantley in half if he had to, no doubt. I reach for a piece of bologna and cheese, stacking it together like a mini sandwich, and take a bite.
Brantley got me four tickets to see Justin Moore for Christmas and the concert is this coming weekend. It’s been an anxiety-inducing thought ever since, but the fact that Wes is going too makes me feel a little better.
Wesley grabs his Bible. “You think I’m kidding?” he mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He clears his throat and sets his Bible open across his leg. “So,” he starts, his voice low and steady, “why don’t we go through Philippians 4.”
I nod. “Good idea.”
I pick my Bible up and flip to the right page. Once he sees I’m there, he starts to read, only to stop a few verses in. I look up to see him smiling at me.
