Addie’s eyes flick to him, sharp. “Yeah.”
Wes shoves a bite of potatoes in his mouth, still not looking up. “We’re figuring it all out.”
“I don’t know,” I say, leaning back in my chair, observing both once more. “Seems like Wesley’s in the doghouse.”
Addison shoots me a glare that could cut steel. “You want in on it too, Cody?!” she bites.
“I mean…it’s been a while since we had entertainment with dinner.” I shrug, and Karissa’s fingers instantly dig into my leg under the table. Mom’s giving me her signature glare. But my brothers laugh and Addison stabs more green beans onto her fork.
Mom clears her throat. “Well, whenever you two decide, I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
Ella reaches for her drink. “Yeah. I’ll be there. Whenever, wherever. You just let me know.”
The conversation fizzles out, but the tension between them is still burning hot.
After we clean up, Wesley steps out onto the porch. He doesn’t say goodbye, so I know he’s not leaving, just getting some air. Something inside tugs me to follow, so I grab my sweatshirt and give Karissa a meaningful look. She nods, silently understanding.
Wesley eyes me when he hears the door, like I’m the last person he wanted to see.
“You wanna tell me what that was about?” I ask.
He sighs. “Not really.”
I cross my arms. “Why’s that?”
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you suck at lying?” I lean against the porch post. “Try again.”
He can’t help but laugh once, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s just mad at me.”
“Yeah…no shit.”
He laughs again, this time more of his nerves showing. I can see him trying to find the right words.
“Just say it,” I tell him, and he sighs.
“My dad and I got into it last night. Addie was there, and I snapped at her in the midst of it all. I didn’t mean to, but I did.”
“Was she trying to get involved?”
“Yeah. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have even batted an eye.”
I hum, leaning against the porch rail. “Yeah, well apologize and then tell her next time not to get involved.” I shrug. To me, it’s black and white.
He huffs a laugh, but it’s humorless. “You make it sound easy.”
“’Cause it is,” I shoot back. “Say you’re sorry, tell her you love her, and move on. Don’t overcomplicate it.”
“I did apologize. I don’t even know how many times. I barely slept last night because she was still pissed,” he argues.
“What did you tell her? When you snapped, what’d you say?”
“That she needed to stay out of it…she was making it worse.”
I hum again, shifting my weight. “Yeah…blame game. No one likes that.”
“I know. But I said sorry and—”
