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“No,” he says, and his voice is fierce and defiant.
“Raleigh,” his mother says, a warning in her voice.
“No.” Raleigh takes my hand, twining our fingers together. “Mom, this is West. My boyfriend.”
Mrs. Griffin flinches. “I said we’ll talk about this later.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Raleigh’s grip on my hand turns painful. “I said he’s my boyfriend.”
“Raleigh, maybe it’s best if I go,” I say quietly, squeezing his hand. “This is her house.”
“If you leave, I’m leaving, too,” he says. Somehow it sounds less like an ultimatum and more like a decision he’s already made.
Mrs. Griffin purses her lips but doesn’t reply. Raleigh sucks in a breath like he’s been hit.
“Fine,” he says. The tremor in his voice breaks my heart in half. “Wait for me outside, will you?”
I nod, heading out the door without another word. She doesn’t speak; she just watches me go. When Raleigh appears in the door a moment later, they exchange words I can’t hear. Raleigh’s mother purses her lips again and Raleigh tears down the porch steps like the house is out to get him. Once he slams the door shut, I take off without a word.
It’s a full ten minutes before he speaks.
“I’m so sorry, West,” he says. His voice is thin, with a hint of that shakiness, hurting my heart all over again. I take his hand, winding our fingers again over the console.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“She shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” he says miserably.
“It’s her house,” I say as lightly as I can. At the next red light, I look over.
Raleigh’s face is drawn. His eyes are dry, but twin tracks on his cheeks tell me that’s a recent development. I squeeze his hand.
We park the car at my building and I take Raleigh’s hand again, walking him upstairs. He’d balked a little when I told him to bring his bag with him but caved like a paper bag when I told him it was an order, not a request.
Taking care of somebody else was never one of my strengths. I do my job, and I do it damn well. I take care of myself, and I do that damn well. I go after what I want and I try not to hurt the people I get involved with. But there’s something about Raleigh that makes me want to protect him, look out for him, to care for him.
Maybe it’s that balls-of-brass attitude, or his interminable optimism. I remember the way he looked walking up on that stage the first night we met, nervousness written all over his face. It was written right alongside that dogged determination. It makes me proud to have him standing beside me. It makes me want to do better by him.
He makes me want to be better every time I’m with him. And damn, but that scares me more than anything.
The elevator opens to my floor and I see Callahan standing outside my apartment door, a duffel bag in her hand. She smiles when she spots us, then opens her arms to Raleigh.
“Oh, honey,” she says, folding him up in a hug as I unlock the door. “I’m so sorry.”
“How are you here?” he asks, his voice muffled by her shoulder. “I thought you had to work.”
“Called in some help,” she says, leading him into my apartment. “West said you needed me.”
Raleigh gives me a shaky grin, and I can’t stop myself from kissing him again. He’s hurting, but he’s still standing here, being brave for us. Pride has my throat going tight.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that,” breathes Callie, watching us with rapt attention. I release Raleigh, steadying him before I pull her to us.
“Thank you for being here,” I say, kissing her hand and pulling her close to kiss her for real. Raleigh starts.
“Callie, you’re here,” he exclaims.
“You’d think you’d have noticed you were talking to her the last couple of minutes,” I say, laughing at him. But Raleigh is staring at Callie like he’s never seen her before and Callie looks… nervous.
“Callie?” I ask.
