Page 97 of Blue Line

“Seriously?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the p. “But he does know now, because the guys told him.”

I snort. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I bet Wes loved hearing that.”

“Pretty sure his exact words were, ‘For fuck’s sake. And I thought I was the meddler.’”

She grabs the tissue box off my nightstand and hands it to me. I wipe my eyes and blow my nose.

“I still don’t know if we were meant to be. He told me one thing—he was fine with me not having a job and figuring out how I wanted to pursue photography—and then the next thing I know, he’s getting me a job.” I clutch the tissues in my hand. “I clearly wasn’t good enough for him the way I was …”

She levels me a look, one I’m pretty sure she learned from my brother. “I love you, Hadley, like a sister.” She pauses, and I nod. “But I think you overreacted.” I rear back, wanting to tell her why she’s wrong, but she keeps talking. “Sometimes, people are simply trying to help.”

My shoulders sag, and I tell her what I told Wes about Henry. She listens patiently and then takes my hand.

“Wes believes in you. He sent a group text to everyone asking if anyone had any leads he could pass on to you.”

My mouth falls open. I never thought anyone would care about my passion for photography enough to do something like that. I mean, yes, Holt and my parents encourage me, but they’re my family. That’s what they’re supposed to do. Wes, he’s not. He didn’t have to do what he did. How did I not know any of this? Why did he not tell me? She pats my hand.

“I know you’re scared. I get it. I was too. But, sometimes, you just have to let them love you.”

I blink back tears. “What if I screwed this up beyond repair?”

“I have it on good authority that he’s as much of a wreck as you are. I think it’s fixable. If that’s what you want.”

“I do. But what am I going to do about my job situation? I can’t take the job with the Storm now, can I? After I made such a big deal about it. I’ll seem like the world’s biggest hypocrite.”

“You’re allowed to change your mind. No one’s going to hold it against you. Take the job. Don’t take the job. Start your own business. Take time off to figure out what you want to do. Whatever you do, we’ll support you.”

Wes suggested starting my own business too. I brushed it off because I figured he was just trying to hype me up, but now here’s a second person who believes I could do it. And it is something I wanted to do in the future when I had more years of photography experience under my belt. But maybe I don’t need to wait.

“Thanks. I guess I have a lot to think about.”

“You do. But maybe finish eating and take a shower first?”

I bark out a laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

“It’s going to be okay. Your family is here to support you.”

A knot forms in my stomach at the way she says family. It hits me like a gut punch that I abandoned Wes.

I barely register her telling me to come downstairs later if I feel up to it. I think I agree, but I don’t know for sure.

Once she’s gone, I finish eating my food, barely tasting any of it, my stomach too torn up about how terrible I was to Wes.

“How do I fix this? Will he really forgive me?” I mumble twenty minutes later while I’m standing under the hot water in the shower.

I close my eyes, and a montage of our relationship plays out in my head. All the times he called me Hadley Jane. Teased me. Made me laugh. Smile. How he planned dates he knew I’d enjoy. Wooed me, one gesture at a time. One day at a time.

How could I be so stupid to think he’d have anything except good intentions when he talked to Sutton about the job? He would never try to change me. He didn’t even complain when I left my stuff everywhere. He didn’t so much as flinch when I blew in like the tornado he called me. I start to cry again. I have to figure out how to fix this. But first, I should probably call Sutton about the job.

I shut off the water, grab a towel, and step out so I can dry off and get dressed.

A little while later, I sit cross-legged on my freshly made bed and grab my phone to call Sutton. It starts ringing in my hand. Sutton’s calling. That’s weird.

“Hi,” I rasp. I clear my throat. “Sorry. Hi, Sutton.”

“Hey, Hadley.”