Wesley went silent.
Amy laughed but she seemed kind of nervous.
She didn’t say much during the ride, though Wesley made several attempts to coax her into our conversation. At first I wondered if maybe it was because of me, but it didn’t take long to figure out that she was just shy. When we pulled into the driveway of the large, old-fashioned house, which I knew must belong to Wesley’s grandmother, Amy looked into the backseat and said quietly, “Bye. It was nice to meet you,” before ducking out of the car.
“She’s sweet,” I said.
“She needs to break out of her shell.” Wesley sighed as he watched her hurry up to the front porch. Once she’d disappeared into the big house (it was no almost-mansion, but clearly his grandma had money, too), he looked back at me. “You can take the front seat if you want.”
I nodded and got out of the car. I opened the passenger’s door and eased myself into the seat Amy had just abandoned. Right around the time I got my seat belt fastened, I heard Wesley let out a low groan. “What’s your problem?” I asked, looking up. But I figured out the answer before he said a word.
A woman in her sixties had just come out of the house, and she was walking toward the car. Wesley’s grandma, no doubt. Wesley’s grandma who hated him. No wonder he looked like he wanted to hide. I felt a little anxious as I watched the woman, who was very well dressed in an expensive-looking salmon sweater and perfectly creased slacks, stride toward the car.
Wesley rolled down his window when she got close enough to hear him. “Hi, Grandma Rush. How are you?”
“Don’t play with me, Wesley Benjamin. I’m furious with you at the moment.” But she didn’t sound furious. Her voice was high-pitched and soft. Silky. She sounded like the sweetest old woman ever, but her words didn’t fit the part.
“What did I do this time?” Wesley asked with a sigh. “Wear the wrong shoes? Or is it that the car isn’t clean enough today? What mild imperfection are you going to throw at me this afternoon?”
“I would suggest you refrain from using that tone with me,” she said in the least intimidating voice imaginable. This would have been funny if Wesley didn’t look so unhappy. “Live your life how you like, but leave little Amy out of it.”
“Amy? What did I do to Amy?”
“Honestly, Wesley,” his grandma said with a dramatic sigh. “Why don’t you just let Amy take the bus? I don’t approve of you driving her around with your”—she paused—“friends in the backseat.” She looked across Wesley, her eyes locking with mine for an instant before shifting back to her grandson. “I wouldn’t want them to be a negative influence on your sister.”
For a second I was confused. I was a straight-A student. I’d never been in any trouble in my life. Yet this woman thought I would somehow damage her precious granddaughter.
And then it hit me.
She thought I was one of Wesley’s tramps. She thought I was a slutty chick he screwed around with. Wesley had told me that his grandmother disapproved of his “lifestyle.” She hated the way he slept around. And seeing me in the backseat, she’d just assumed I was another floozy he’d picked up.
I looked away, staring out my window to avoid seeing the expression of disgust on the old woman’s face. I felt hurt and angry.
Mostly because I knew it was true.
“That is none of your business,” Wesley growled. I’d never heard him sound so pissed before. “You have no right to disrespect my friend, and it certainly isn’t your place to decide what I do with my own sister. You should know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t do anything to harm her, despite what you’ve convinced her of. I’m not the monster you tell her I am, you know.”
“I think I should drive Amy home from school after today.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “But you won’t keep me away from her. She’s my sister, and Mom and Dad will have a fit if I tell them that you’re trying to break apart our family, Grandmother.”
“I’m afraid your family is already broken, my dear.”
There was a buzz, indicating that Wesley had rolled his window back up, and the engine revved. I watched as the old woman walked back toward her house. Then, with squealing tires, Wesley backed out of the driveway and sped down the street. I glanced over at him, worried and unsure of what to say. Luckily, he spoke first.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was coming outside. She shouldn’t have treated you that way.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“No, it’s not. She’s a shrew.”
“I gathered that much.”
“And the worst part is that she’s right.”
“About what?” I asked.
“About our family,” he said. “She’s right. It is broken. It has been for a long time. Mom and Dad are always gone, and Grandma’s managed to come between Amy and me.”
“Amy still loves you.”
“Maybe,” he murmured. “But she thinks less of me. Grandma has her convinced that I’m some no-good son of a bitch. I’ve seen the way Amy looks at me now. She looks at me like she’s sad. Like she’s disappointed in me. She thinks I’m a horrible person.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have made the joke about you only doing nice things for… for benefits.”
“It’s fine.” The car was slowing down a little. “Honestly, you’re right. And Grandma is, too. I just never wanted Amy to see me that way.”
I couldn’t resist the urge to reach over to the gearshift and put my hand over Wesley’s. His skin was warm and soft, and I could feel his pulse throbbing steadily beneath my palm. I forgot about my stupid car and my fight with Casey. I just wanted Wesley to smile again. Even that cocky grin would have worked. I hated that he was so hurt by the possibility of losing his sister’s respect. I wanted to comfort him. I cared about him.
Oh my God. I actually cared?
17
Ten minutes later, the Porsche pulled into my driveway. I grabbed my stuff and reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.” A glance back over my shoulder showed me that Wesley was still sulky. Well, hell! Why not? “You can come inside if you want. My dad isn’t home yet.”
Wesley grinned at me as he cut the engine. “You’re a dirty-minded little girl, Duffy. It would appear that you’re trying to corrupt me.”
“You’re way past corruption,” I assured him.
We got out of the car and walked up the driveway together. I dug the keys out of my purse and unlocked the front door, allowing Wesley to walk inside ahead of me. I watched his eyes move around the living room, and I couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious. He must have been comparing the place to his almost-mansion. Obviously there was no comparison. I didn’t even live in a coatrack house like Jessica.
“I like it,” Wesley said. He looked back at me. “It’s cozy.”
“That’s nice for small, isn’t it?”
“No. I’m serious. It’s comfortable. My house is too big, even for four people, and since I’m the only one in it most of the time… I like yours better. Cozy, like I said.”
“Thanks.” I was flattered. Not that I cared what he thought, but…
“Where’s your room?” he asked, winking at me.
“I knew that was coming. Now who’s corrupting whom?” I took him by the elbow and led him up the stairs. “Right here.” I gestured to the first door. “I warn you, it’s about the size of a Cracker Jack box.”
He opened the door and peered inside. Then he looked back at me with that familiar smirk. “We’ll have enough room.”
“Enough room for what?”
Before I knew what was happening, Wesley had grabbed me by the hips and was pushing me into my bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind us, spun me around, and slammed me against the wall, where he began kissing me so hard that I thought my head might pop off. I was surprised, but once that wore off, I joined in. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. He tightened his grip on my waist and shoved my jeans down as low as they would go without unbuttoning. Then he slid his hands under the elastic band of my underwear and rubbed his fingers along my hot, tingling skin.