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His eyes met mine, then bounced away. “Nothing.” The Adam’s apple in the center of his throat bobbed. “It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah,” I said, chest suddenly feeling like it might cave in. “I can tell.”
He started to say something more, but I wasn’t ready to let this moment of honesty get lost in more words. Cuffing him around the shoulder, I jerked him in. Caught off guard, he stumbled forward, and I locked one arm around his waist while the other roped across his shoulders.
“Max,” he protested, body stiff as he tried to squirm away.
I held him tighter, palm going up to push the back of his head toward my shoulder. “It freaked you out,” I murmured. “Did it remind you of before?”
I felt all the oxygen deflate from his lungs, and without all that air puffing up his chest, his body sank closer to mine.
“It wasn’t like back then,” he told me, cheek rubbing against my shoulder.
I made a sound in my throat and then stroked over the curls at the back of his head. “You’re tougher now. I know.” After a brief pause, I went on. “It’s okay, though, if it brought up bad memories. Sounds like that asshole put you on the spot.”
“It’s probably better this way, to get it out now. Before I get any more attached.”
I paused. “What?”
“It’s better to know where I stand with Elite. Who I need to watch out for.”
“If anyone else gives you trouble, I want to know.”
“I won’t tell you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to argue. He might not tell me, but others would, so it really didn’t matter. We fell quiet, the November night swallowing everything around us except for the way his weight settled a little more into mine. Surprise echoed inside me even as I planted my feet farther into the ground to support more of his weight. Throat constricting, I stared unseeing over his shoulder at the brick of the building.
Wes was an affectionate person, a trait he got from Mom, but it had been years since he’d let me hug him, even longer since he’d accepted comfort from anyone but Win. But Win wasn’t here right now, and it was clear Wes was a little rattled.
Without thinking, I stroked my palm over the back of his head one more time, and his inaudible sigh was warm despite us standing in the cold.
He pulled back slowly, almost reluctant, but I let him go. His face was a little sheepish, eyes shy when he glanced at me, then away. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I guess I was more upset than I thought.”
He turned away, robbing me of the pink staining his cheeks and the way those stupid loopy curls ruffled in the night breeze.
I caught him around the wrist, tightening my grip enough to keep him from walking away. “Hey.”
Swallowing, he looked down at where my thumb and forefinger circled his wrist before slowly lifting his eyes. Sometimes he looked at me in a way that was like a punch in the heart. As if my heart had somehow stopped and he was forcing it back to life.
That was exactly how I felt the moment those dark orbs brimming with unspoken vulnerability met mine.
It was the vulnerability that always affected me the most. The thing that made the caged-up beast filled with white-hot rage roar and rattle the bars I trapped him behind, warning me that someday he would get out, and when he did, I would never be able to lock him down again.
“I’ll always be here for you,” I whispered, the words drifting between us but my lips feeling like they hadn’t even spoken, my tongue feeling like the words hadn’t even spilled from there.
Something that looked like sadness but felt a hell of a lot more like agony passed behind his stare, but before I could grasp the pain, he tugged his wrist free and stepped away.
“I know,” he said, offering the smallest of smiles that only lifted one side of his mouth.
Then almost as if someone reached inside him and flipped a switch, he started walking backward toward the diner entrance, a big smile filling his face. “If Jamie ate my dinner, you’re buying me another one.”
Despite the hollowed-out feeling suddenly afflicting my chest, I scoffed and pushed at my hair. “Brat.”
He disappeared inside, and my boots stuttered on the sidewalk as the door swung closed behind him.
Through the glass, I watched him laugh at something one of his friends said as he slid back into the booth. My eyes blurred a little when he leaned over the table to snatch half a waffle off Jamie’s plate and shove it into his mouth.
That hollow spot inside me opened up like a festering wound, and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. An out-of-control sensation I knew well but despised swelled up from my feet, filling me until I felt like I might drown.
