“You and Caroline always seemed so close. I remember seeing you walk home from school together and studying in the library all the time. I was always kind of jealous of your relationship with her because all I had was my dumbass half-brother.”
“We were close. I loved Caroline more than I loved myself. If there had been a way for me to be the sick one, instead of her, I would’ve changed places with her in a heartbeat. She was an amazing person.”
I tasted salt in my throat. “That’s beautiful. It really is. But that shows you didn’t help Caroline because it was your job; you did it out of love.”
Weston looked at me. He seemed to search my eyes before speaking again. “When I was born, my grandfather put five-million dollars into an account for me. I thought he did that for all of his grandchildren. The night of Caroline’s funeral, I found out I was the only one with that kind of a trust fund. He’d set it up to compensate me for being Caroline’s donor.”
I blew out a ragged breath. “That’s screwed up.”
“My mother calls me twice a year—on Caroline’s birthday and the anniversary of her death. She hasn’t called me on my birthday in ten years.”
“God, Weston.”
He smiled and brushed a hand over my hair. “You thought your family was fucked up? They don’t hold a candle, sweetheart.”
I thought about how he’d gone on a downward spiral after his sister’s death. What he’d just shared made the reasons so much clearer.
I dropped a tender kiss above his heart. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Not for your loss—although obviously I’m sorry for that, too. But I’m sorry I judged you for so many years without ever getting to know you. Underneath the asshole exterior you wear so proudly is a really beautiful man.”
Weston stared off at nothing in particular. “You’re a good person, and good people look for the good in everyone.”
“So? What’s wrong with that? Is that such a bad thing? Wanting to find good?”
He turned back to look at me and smiled sadly. “It shouldn’t be. But it skews what you see. Sometimes what people are showing you is really who they are.”
I thought he was wrong. But I knew there was no point in arguing. I looked down and traced his scar again. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Because everything you’ve asked me in the last ten minutes—or the last few weeks, for that matter—hasn’t been?”
I laughed and smacked his abs. “Shut up, Lockwood.”
He smiled. “What’s your question, nosy?”
“Do you talk about these things with the therapist you go to? About losing your sister and how you felt responsible for her well-being?”
Weston frowned. “I go to the shrink because it’s a condition of keeping my job. I’m not there to be fixed.”
Silence stretched between us until eventually Weston cleared his throat. “I’m going to get going. I have to visit a friend this morning.”
“Oh… Okay.”
I shifted to my side so he could get up and watched as he got dressed. I wasn’t sure if Weston really had somewhere to go or if our conversation had made him uncomfortable enough that he had the urge to flee. Either way, the air in the room had shifted. I pulled the sheet up to my shoulders to ward off the chill.
Weston leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you later?”
I forced a smile. “Sure.”
A minute later, the door clicked closed. I lie in bed by myself, going over the last twenty-four hours. Sex with Weston was beyond a doubt the most amazing physical experience I’d ever had with a man. We had undeniable chemistry. I’d thought the intense spark came from the push and pull of our antagonistic feuding, but last night, there was no feud, and our connection and chemistry were more intense than ever. So maybe there was more to it than taking out our pent-up frustrations on each other.
For some reason, that thought made me nervous. Was I gun-shy after what happened between Liam and me? Or was my inner self-protective mechanism giving me a warning that had everything to do with Weston Lockwood?
It was a lot to think about. Luckily, my cell phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting what I was about to overanalyze. Scarlett’s name flashed on the screen, making me smile.
“Good morning,” she said. With just those two simple words, I could tell she was smiling on the other end of the phone. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No. I’m just lying here in bed, all by my lonesome, being lazy.”
“All by your lonesome?”
I laughed. I knew what she was getting at. Scarlett didn’t do subtle. “Yes, Weston just left a few minutes ago.”
“Perfect. Then open the door.”
My forehead wrinkled. “What door?”
A knock rang out in surround sound. It came through the phone and also from the other room of my suite. “This one. And hurry. Our breakfast is getting cold.”