Page 78 of Home Sweet Home

“But come on. I didn’t lie. The money was paid by the county, and you earned every penny.”

“That money wasn’t for me. It was for you. Assistant coach is a made-up job, less real than what Ryleigh wants to be when she grows up, which is a freaking unicorn veterinarian.”

“I didn’t need the money. You did.”

Her voice was rising, but she could do nothing to stop it. “So I’m your charity case. And don’t even pretend like that’s not how you see me, because then you turned around and told the entire world.”

Something dark flashed through West’s eyes, and he was clenching his teeth so hard, she could see the tension in his jaw. “I didn’t know they were going to put it in the article.”

Evie snorted. “Right. The biggest, most important article of your career, and you didn’t even bother to read it.”

Like that day in the bathroom at the high school, West’s fingers clenched into a fist and unclenched. “I swear to God, Evie, I didn’t know. Rich takes care of all of it. And I don’t know how they found out in the first place, because the only person who knew was my mom.”

An image popped into Evie’s mind—Rich, sitting across the table from her at Mel’s, the karaoke machine blasting, the look of surprise on his face when she’d told him she was getting paid to work with West. She should have been relieved that West was at least partly telling the truth, but it only stoked the fire of her anger. “Rich figured it out. That night at Mel’s, when he accused me of being your groupie.”

West’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “He… He did what? Why didn’t you tell me—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Evie shook her head. “I never asked you to help me. And whatever this is, it’s based on a lie.”

In the silence that followed, Evie looked at West, and it was like he was a stranger. She’d been so close to telling him how she felt, but when she read the article, she’d known why she held back. All the gut feelings, the instincts to pull away, were bright-red warning lights, lighthouses signaling that she was about to crash up against the rocks and splinter her heart into a thousand little pieces.

“Let me get this straight,” West said. “If I had walked up to you in the IGA that day and instead of offering you a coaching job, I offered you four thousand dollars, you would have taken it.”

“No. I didn’t need your help.”

He had the audacity to laugh, a sharp guffaw exiting his mouth, and it made Evie steel herself even further. “Right. And what was your Plan B?”

“I would have figured it out,” Evie spat out immediately.

“Except you didn’t, and you would have lost your house.”

She was angry at his arrogance and because he was annoyingly right. Her brainstorm at the start of the summer had been fruitless. His offer had been a life raft, and she’d grabbed onto it, grateful she could give her tired arms a rest. That was before she’d known it wasn’t real.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Evie said again, her voice quiet.

“I know you didn’t. You’ve reminded me about fifteen times,” he said, and hurt crossed his face. “Want to know why I didn’t walk up to your front door and hand you a check? My mom told me there was no way in hell you would accept it.”

“I’m not fucking Oliver Twist.”

His sigh was long and drawn out, like it was taking all the patience he had to keep having this conversation with her. “Someone trying to help you, Evie, doesn’t mean they think you’re a goddamn charity case. People help people. It’s literally what we do.” He glanced at a house across the street, where a face disappeared from the windowpane. “You want to know what I think?”

“No,” she said, but he continued anyway.

“You’ve been dealt a shitty hand, and Josh is lucky to have a sister who loves him so much. But I bet the last seven years would have been a lot easier on both of you if you hadn’t been downright hell-bent on doing it on your own.”

The nerve he had to judge how she’d survived sent her whole body shaking again. “I can take care of myself.”

“But why do you want to? There are people who care about you. A lot.” He swallowed a lump in his throat, and for a second, there was a tiny crack in Evie’s armor. “It’s lonely and hard, and it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“You don’t know the first thing about what my life has been like,” Evie said. “And you say all this stuff about how you want to help take care of me, but in less than a month, you’re going back to LA.”

He looked at her. He really looked at her, like he could see through the thick layer of armor she’d put on, worthless under his gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was softer than before. “The last month with you has been the best of my life. I mean it. I like you, Evie. A lot.” He swallowed and shook his head. “So much that it scares me. But I can’t just leave it all like that.”

“Because your dad didn’t raise a quitter?”

He flinched, like she’d slapped him, leaving a red and raised welt, and she almost regretted saying it.

“You don’t even like it,” Evie said. “You’re lecturing me about letting people help me when you won’t help yourself.”

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