Page 40 of Somewhere in the Sunset

“I’m not .?.?.” I sniff, shaking my head. Therearetears welling in my eyes, but they aren’t for my dad. I raise my chin to look at Weston, and his caring expression sets me off entirely. A sob escapes my throat. “Luca was there through all of it, and he promised me my father would be the first and only man to ever break my heart.” Pathetically, I wipe away my tears as they fall, and I scoff derisively. “Now look. He’s a liar.”

I grab the box of keepsakes and throw it across the room. The contents scatter across the floor and I double over, pressing my hands to my face to smother my pained cries. Weston immediately shifts closer and pulls me protectively into his chest. He’s so used to my ugly sobs by now that I don’t even make the effort to sound graceful as I smear damp tears into his shirt.

“I slept with him last night,” I whisper, and I feel the weight lift from my chest as I admit it. It’s a secret I’ve been holding back all day in fear of judgment. If I told Elena and Maddie, they wouldn’t understand how I was so easily fooled, but they’ve never been in love. Weston has. “I thought he missed me. I thought he’d realized he’d made a mistake. I thought .?.?.”

“Shh,” Weston says, his hand placed softly on the back of my neck. Part of me expects him to push me away a little, but he only holds me tighter. “It’s okay, Gracie. You love him.”

“I’m sostupid.I feel like the biggest idiot in the world,” I groan, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I woke up so happy this morning only for Luca to break my heart all over again. Am I really this naïve to believe he could change his mind? And am I stupid for being willing to take him back if he did?”

I angle my face to meet Weston’s eyes as he looks back down at me. The space between us is so tiny it’s almost nonexistent. I wonder what he thinks of me now, so hopelessly in love with a man who clearly doesn’t think I’m worth staying for. Luca’s exactly like my father, leaving me behind to get more out of life. Why am I the one who always gets sacrificed, rather than having sacrifices madeforme?

“Why am I never enough, Weston?”

Weston flinches as though my words have physically hurt him. His gaze softens as it dips to my mouth, then travels delicately back to my eyes. “You’ll be everything to the right person.” My head still resting on his shoulder, he softly skims his thumb beneath my lower lash line to catch another tear that falls. “I think,” he murmurs, “you need to fall out of love with Luca and fall in love with Gracie instead.”

I close my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his skin brushing my cheek. I snuggle in a little closer. There’s something about Weston that makes me feel safe, and it’s not because he’s a police officer. My eyes ping back open and I say, “Do you have any idea how difficult that is?”

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Something tells me it’s not that hard.”

My heart skips a beat. How does he always know the right things to say? I’m starting to think he doesn’t need me to show him how to treat a woman right. He treats me .?.?. perfectly. Somehow Weston might just be about the most important person in my life right now. He’s the one who’s caught most of my tears, after all. Maybe it was fate that he ruined my birthday celebrations. Maybe we weremeantto pick up the pieces of each other.

Our eye contact intensifies and my breath catches in my throat, my body still. Weston moves his thumb down to my chin and tilts my face up, then carefully touches his lips to mine. The kiss is tender and cautious, like he’s terrified I’m going to push him away. But I could never push Weston away.

I press my lips harder against his, an unmistakable signal that I want this too. I slide my fingers through his hair as the kiss builds with enthusiasm, growing deeper. His lips are so soft and gentle, yet fierce and passionate. I swing my body over onto his lap, bringing our chests close, and his warm hands slide over the soft skin of my waist beneath my sweatshirt. A nervous chill surges down my spine. I want his hands to travel further, to explore more.

“Just friends, huh?”

The sound of another voice startles both Weston and me. Our mouths break apart and we turn abruptly toward the door where Verity leans against the frame, arms folded and brows raised.

“Verity.” I gulp, then realize Weston’s hands are still on my waist. I shuffle off his lap and stand upright, tugging at the hem of my sweater. I don’t even know what to say. This bond I have with Weston .?.?. I’m still trying to make sense of it myself. But figuring it out under my mother’s roof is not the time nor the place.

Verity smirks and gives Weston a clipped nod. “You okay there?”

I exchange a glance with Weston. He’s still sitting at the end of my bed, but he now has one leg crossed over the other and his hands are purposely interlocked over his lap. He grimaces and says, “Yup.”

This normally wouldn’t be mortifying. I’ve lost count of how many times Verity caught Luca and me up to no good when we were teenagers and I still lived here at home, but we always laughed it off. This, however .?.?. It feels like I’ve been caught red-handed doing something I absolutely shouldn’t have. It’s not even been a month yet since Luca left, and here I am, kissing another man on my childhood bed. It’s not because I’m over Luca. I don’t know if I’lleverget over Luca, but Weston .?.?. Why am I being pulled so strongly toward him?

“So?” Verity prompts, tapping her foot. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Ver,” I say, flustered. My cheeks feel hot and my heart pounds at a million miles an hour. “Genuinely. I don’t know. Wearefriends .?.?.”

“With benefits,” she finishes.

“No,” Weston says.

Verity narrows her eyes and studies both of us one at a time. With a sigh, she holds up her hands and says, “Whatever. Not my business. Mom wants you back downstairs.”

It’s very clear Weston needs a couple minutes before we can make our way back downstairs to see mymother,so Verity heads off without us. We wait until we hear her footsteps fade, and then we both exhale loudly.

“She already thinks I cheated on Luca with you,” I murmur. I gather up the contents of the old jewelry box from the floor and add it all to the small trash pile that’s accumulated on the dresser. “And what she just saw? That probably doesn’t make her believe otherwise.”

Weston’s eyes widen. “Why the hell would she think that?”

I only shrug, because I don’t dare tell him exactly what Verity said, that whole thing about me apparently looking at Weston the same way I look at Luca. I’m not sure if I do or if I don’t. What I do know for sure is that when I look at Weston, I feel at ease. I have a soft spot for him.

“I’ll clean this up later,” I say, nodding to the trash pile. “Are you ready to go back downstairs?”

Weston laughs and uncrosses his legs. “I think so.”

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