Page 132 of Dear Grumpy Boss

“Miles,” Weston gruffed. “You opened this Pandora’s Box, you get to stick around and sort through it with me. Put your bag down.”

Miles’s expression slipped from disgruntled to hopeful puppy. “I can stay?”

“We’ll see.” Weston squeezed me before letting me go to take my hand in his. All of us sat down on the sectional sofa, Miles on one side, Weston and me on the other, that chasm roiling between them.

Miles started talking, releasing a deluge of two decades of his parents’ drama. He’d been stuck in the middle, defending their mom while also stopping her from maiming their father, who’d spent the majority of his time cheating, drinking, and spending his massive trust funds. Their mother would baby Miles, take him on lavish trips, pull him from school in the middle of the day for adventures so he would be on her side. Their father vacillated between threatening and completely forgetting Miles existed.

“You left me with them,” Miles accused.

Weston rubbed the center of his forehead. “Mom doted on you. Shestilldoes. I didn’t think—”

Miles shrugged. “You were a kid too, and you were selfish. I get that.”

My lip was being chewed to death, and my hand was being crushed between Weston’s. The worst ache was my chest, though. Elliot and I were so close. We’d been there for every one of each other’s milestones. Neither Miles nor Weston had that. Weston had run while Miles had stayed, growing resentful over each passing year.

“And I get you were angry at me for being selfish.” Weston leaned forward, a crevice between his brows. “I don’t think I can forgive you for taking that anger and directing it at Elise. That was for me, not her. She never did anything to you and you fucking—”

“I know.” Miles’s shoulders drooped. “It’s not something I’m proud of, especially now that we’ve gotten to know each other and we’re friends.” His eyes flicked to mine. “We are, right?”

I nodded. “You annoyed me into acquiescence.”

He smirked. “My superpower.”

Weston turned to me. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to comprehend your level of evolution. You’re the injured party, yet here you are, laughing with the villain in your story. How can that be?”

Miles flinched, and to be honest, on the inside, I did too. I had to remind myself this was fresh for Weston. I’d had years to come to terms with everything that had happened, Weston hadn’t.

“I can’t stay angry forever, Weston. I’m choosing to move on and let it go. It’s especially easy now that I understand where Miles was coming from and what he was dealing with.”

Weston brought my hand up to his lips, touching it gently. “That’s one of the big differences between you and me—I can absolutely stay angry forever.”

I let out a soft giggle. “I would never try to take your anger from you. I hope you’re hearing what Miles is saying to you, though.”

He switched his attention to Miles. “I’m hearing it. I was a neglectful, shitty brother. I screwed up, and I’m owning that right now. That doesn’t mean I can snap my fingers and get over what he did to you. He knew you were precious to me and purposely sought you out to bully you. You’ll have to forgivemefor not being all right with that.”

“No one expects you to,” I told him. “But maybe over time…”

“Maybe.” Weston’s mouth pressed into a hard line. I wasn’t optimistic he would ever soften toward Miles.

Miles’s expression lightened, clearly more optimistic than me. “Maybe isn’t no.”

Weston remained unamused. “You can stay here, but no longer than a week. If you’re annoying or bother Elise, you’re out immediately.”

Miles winked at him. “Got it. You don’t want me staying long enough for squatter’s rights to kick in. That makes sense.”

Weston rose, pulling me with him. “Jokes, huh? Are you sure that’s the route you want to take?”

I pressed on his chest. “Shhh. That’s enough. Nothing has to be resolved in one night.”

Miles flopped against the couch cushions, misery pulling at his features. “Humor has been my fallback for a long time. Sorry.”

Weston grunted. He was obviously finished, which was fair since he’d been far more patient and open than I would have expected. The fact that he hadn’t thrown Miles out at first sight was huge for him.

“Are you good to set yourself up in the guest room?” I asked.

Miles nodded. “Westie’s let me stay here more often than I care to admit.”

“‘Let’ isn’t how I’d put it.” Weston’s fingers flexed on my hip. “One week, Miles.”

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