house and try to digest our dinners.” I wink at Wes.
“What?” Ryan asks.
“Nothing. We’ll be fine. Really. Don’t worry about the time.”
“Can I talk to Wes for a second?”
I hand my phone over to a reluctant Wes. I can only hear his end of the conversation, but he seems to be explaining how he ended up with me and why. I listen while he relates the boarding school threat to Ryan. Then Ryan talks for a long stretch while Wes listens and nods. Finally, Wes tells his brother good-bye, ends the call, and hands the phone back to me. Wes looks marginally better now. He picks up his own phone and examines it. “It’s dead. He tried to call me first.”
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Ryan said I can stay with him until everything gets straightened out. He’s going to talk to my dad about it.”
“You’re lucky to have him.”
“I guess,” he shrugs.
When we get back to my place, we tiredly sit on the couch and watch television. I let Wes control the remote.
“It’s all Law and Order all the time,” he grumbles flipping past the ubiquitous television show that seems to be on nearly every channel. “What’s with your cat?”
I look over and see Tiger perched beside Wes on the couch armrest, staring at him. “You’re new. He’s curious.”
“Well, he’s freaking me out.”
“He might smell you, too.”
“No way,” Wes cries moving toward me, away from the armrest.
After more channel surfing, Wes finally lands on The Learning Channel and a show about renovating and reselling houses.
When the doorbell rings sometime later, I startle awake. Beside me, Wes is rubbing his eyes, indicating that he has just woken up as well. The clock on the wall reads after one in the morning.
“I think we just slept together,” Wes comments with a lopsided grin.
Shaking my head at him, I stand and try to smooth my hair and wrinkled shirt. The mirror I pass on the way to the door illustrates that it was a wasted effort. I have dark circles under my eyes, and despite my lame attempt at fixing it, my hair is a tousled mess.
Wes traipses behind me, peering over my shoulder as I open the door. There he is, looking nearly as tired and rumpled as I do. Only somehow, it looks good on him. He has on faded jeans that ride low on his hips and a blue long sleeve T-shirt. His dark hair is waving in all directions. When his eyes meet mine, I feel as though I’ve been punched in the stomach.
“Hi,” he says wearily, running a hand through his messy hair.
“Hi.” I smile and then step back to reveal Wes.
“You okay?” Ryan asks him, stepping through the doorway.
Wes nods. “Andrea tried to kill me with waffles, and then we slept together.”
Not surprisingly, Ryan seems confused and slightly dismayed.
I glare at Wes. “That’s what I get for feeding you dinner, and then giving you control of the remote.”
Wes is wearing a huge smile, seeming completely unconcerned about the worry he has caused his family tonight.
“Get your stuff,” Ryan tells his brother, in no mood for humor. Then he turns to me. “Thanks again. I’m really sorry about this.”
“Please don’t apologize. I’m just glad that he found me and that he’s okay.”
Once we’re alone, I’m very aware of Ryan’s nearness as we stand together in the entryway waiting for Wes. Now is my chance to say something, to apologize for suspecting him of lying. “Your dad must have been relieved to hear from you,” I offer instead.
Ryan’s eyes are dark and weary when looks down at me. “He was. Then he was mad as hell.”
“Well, Wes is a really good kid. I hope everything gets sorted out.”
“Me, too.”
“How’s business?” I ask, still working up to my apology.
“Busy.”
“That’s good, right?” I ask hopefully.
“Right.” He smiles, but it seems forced.
I’m beginning to wonder what’s taking Wes so long. Then he appears in the hallway. “Can I use your bathroom?” he asks.
“Of course.”
He shoots me a meaningful look before disappearing.
It’s obvious that Ryan is no way interested in me or in anything I have to say, but I can still apologize to him, and it’s now or never. “Um Ryan,” I begin, fumbling for the words, my stomach doing flip-flops. Why is this so hard? Because he’s being completely monosyllabic and standoffish. I take a deep breath.
“I know this is awkward,” he says. “We’ll be out of your hair soon.”
The rest of my sentence gets stuck in my throat. He