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Wes sighed heavily, folding one arm behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “The men in my family haven’t had a very good track record of being good mates.”
“My mother gave me up at birth and hasn’t wanted anything to do with me since.” Bree shrugged, resting her chin on his chest. “Doesn’t mean I’d do the same to my kid. Besides, we aren’t our parents, Wes. Who we are is based on the decisions we make every single day. Like you making the choice to be there for your mother as she battles her illness. That’s why this tournament is so important to you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He traced her bare shoulder with his calloused fingertips. “And I’m not basing my decision on parental history alone.”
“We all make mistakes, Wes.” Bree was quiet for a moment when he didn’t respond. “Doesn’t mean that’s who we are or that we don’t deserve happiness. What matters is that we try to rectify our mistakes and that we learn from them.”
“A caged bird escaping its gilded cage.” Her gaze dropped to the tattoo on the left side of his chest. The bird was designed of sheets of musical notes. The door it escaped looked like facing capital letter Gs. She traced the ink lightly with her fingertips. “Is that you?”
“No. Got it not long after I graduated university as sort of a tribute to my mother.”
“You hoped your mother would go after her dreams again, once you and your brother were no longer her responsibility. That’s sweet. You’re sweet.” She leaned in and kissed his mouth.
“But you shouldn’t feel guilty about your mom missing out on the life she might’ve had. You should see the glow on her face when she talks about you and your brother. She doesn’t seem to regret a moment of her life. I can’t imagine she’d want you lugging around this burden of guilt on her behalf.” Bree studied his face, waiting for his reaction.
It was a weight he’d been carrying for years. One not easily budged. He met her gaze. “This is who I am, Bree. It’s who I’ve been most of my life. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
“I’m sorry, too.” She sighed softly, the corner of her mouth tugged down in a slight frown. “Good night, Wesley.”
Bree climbed out of bed, gathered her towel and wrapped it around her again.
“Are you angry with me?” He sat up in bed, pulling the sheet up around his waist.
“No, of course not.” There was pity and sadness in her voice. “I just think it’s better if I sleep in my room. In case your mother comes looking for one of us in the morning.”
Her excuse wasn’t very convincing to either of them.
“I don’t expect her to hobble up the steps. That was the whole point of moving her downstairs. If anything, she’ll call upstairs.” Wes kept his voice even. It needed to sound as if he was stating a fact, rather than the passionate plea it was.
He liked the idea of waking up to Bree in his arms.
Bree didn’t acknowledge his statement. “See you at breakfast.”
She exited through the bathroom door. He groaned when the distinct click of the door locking on the other side of the bathroom indicated she had no intention of returning.
Wes groaned, one arm folded behind his head. He should be glad Bree was honoring his request to keep their relationship casual. Instead, he was pouting like a child whose favorite toy had just been taken away.
CHAPTER 16
“Another trip with Wes, huh?” Bex’s observation was more than a passing interest.
“Uh-huh.” Bree turned away from Bex. They were using the video messaging app on her phone, which was propped on the nightstand. She stuffed her makeup bag into her luggage and zipped it. When she finally turned back to the phone, her friend had her arms crossed and one eye cocked. “What?”
“You know what. This isn’t just business anymore, and it’s obviously escalated beyond banging-buddy status. I’m worried about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Bex’s tone had shifted from exasperation to genuine concern.
“I won’t.” Her statement lacked conviction.
