C49 49

I use my shoulder to shove him back, and he retreats a step, though probably only because her car’s already pulled out. “I don’t know, okay? I like her. I . . .” I drag a hand over my face. “I care about her, but I don’t know if she even wants me to.”

Wes’s face softens. It’s so subtle I wouldn’t notice if I didn’t know him so well, but it’s there, and it makes me feel like a fool