Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

“I’m sorry. That was probably the worst question I could have asked then.”

“No, don’t be. I love my parents, and I know they love me. But sometimes, it was just hard growing up. For all of us. Even now, I don’t see them all the time, and that’s okay. We’re okay with that. They have my grandparents to look after too because my grandparents are getting up there in age and are starting to have some health problems. I just don’t want to be a burden on anyone when they already have so much. I guess that’s why Pappy S has been so desperate to find someone to watch out for me. He’s really worried. He’s worried about his own kids, his grandkids, and about me, which must be a crazy amount of worry. I don’t think I could handle all of that.”

“He loves you a lot. I can tell.”

“I know. That’s why I can forgive all the crazy plotting. I mean, I know he’s not plotting against me or anything. He’s just trying to make sure I’m okay because he’s worried no one is looking out for me.”

“That must be really hard,” I say softly.

“It’s not so bad, really, as every family has its doozies. We also don’t keep it a secret. My mom is very open about everything she’s going through, which helps the rest of us, even if we have all those feelings of helplessness, sadness, and frustration at having to watch her go through it and not being able to really do anything.”

“I’m sure just loving her is everything.”

Esme pauses, and her fingers twitch on her taco. “Yeah,” she responds in the tiniest voice. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Want to take this into the living room? I could put on a movie. We could cuddle, make out, or not watch the movie. We could forget about cleaning this up until it’s morning, and the cats have picked it over, even though we say we’re going to do it.”

Esme rolls her eyes at me, but she can’t keep her smile from creeping up and taking over. I really want to tell her the rest about Silas since she opened up to me and trusted me enough to tell me about her mom. She left a lot unsaid too, but I can imagine it—how her childhood must have been, how her family must feel all the pain and frustration that she was talking about, and how the worry and helplessness she must feel at being unable to help someone she loves so much affects someone like her, who has the best heart ever created.

Now would be the perfect time to tell her, but for some reason, I hold back.

When Esme stands and slips her hand onto my shoulder, then into mine when I stand up, I lose track of my thoughts. Or at least, I lose the motivation.

I keep telling myself that I’ll tell her tomorrow. That I’ll say something when I’m sure she’ll understand. I know I’m being a chicken shit, and chicken shit is gross, but I also know I’ve told her almost everything even though Silas told me not to. I’m still sticking to that and using it as a sort of excuse to keep being a chicken shit, which is even grosser.

I am going to tell Esme.

Just not at this moment.

Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow, or the day after.

When the time is right.

CHAPTER 19

Esme

When I get to Pappy S’s house, I don’t bother knocking. He always says knocking is for strangers and dangers, and since I’m not a stranger, and I pose no danger, there would be no point.

I find him grilling burgers in a frying pan in the kitchen, as happy as can be with no nurse in sight. I never see any nurses around. Even before Wilder told me, I knew all along that Pappy S didn’t need another nurse. He probably bribes the one he has to never check in on him somehow and then tells everyone that he’s being constantly monitored.

Pappy S flips the burgers over with a stainless steel flipper and turns around when I say his name.

“Oh! Esme! Just in time. The burgers are almost done.”

I’m practically salivating at the smell of the homemade patties. Pappy S just likes the burger patties with no bun and nothing on them, so I don’t rush to get the table ready with things he won’t use and doesn’t need. I do find the jar of pickles in his fridge, though, so I take one out and lean against the cupboards as I munch away on it.

“So? How’s that roommate of yours?” Pappy S asks, giving me this huge grin. It must be well-practiced too because it doesn’t look even one little bit guilty.

“He’s fine. He likes the cats, and they like him too. He absolutely hates Hector, though he doesn’t mind the fish. Also, he really adores Connie. He once let her up onto his bed, and she was so excited that she peed everywhere, but he didn’t even mind.”