Luke scoffs. “We’re fantastic help. You just don’t like it because we’re not on your side.”
Next to him, PJ peels off his Meadowbrook Farms hoodie to reveal a navy blue tee that readsTeam Bookerin bold white letters.
“What the hell. Where did you get that?”
“We all have them,” Luke says. “Mom’s is even a v-neck. She wore it to the farmer’s market this morning.”
Oh my God. “You made t-shirts?”
Luke rolls his eyes. “No, Smarty-pants. Whit did. That guy is awesome. I’m pretty sure we’re besties now.”
“Well, thanks for the solidarity,” I add wryly.
“We’ll show solidarity when you stop being an asshole,” my younger brother returns.
“Love you!” PJ calls before Luke ends the call. I stomp out to the kitchen and stick my phone in the silverware drawer so I can avoid distractions and get some actual work done.
I slog my way through two sets of tests, and though that’s decent for an afternoon’s worth of work, I can’t shake the frustration I feel.
Before I can think better of it, I grab my keys and head to Drip. Booker’s leaving just as I arrive. It’s perfect timing, really, and that’s something I seem to be in short supply of lately.
“Hey,” I call, waving to grab his attention.
He looks in my direction and gives me a soft smile that crushes my heart. I’m not here to say thank you. I mean, I am, but not in the way he needs or deserves. Fuck, how I want to wrap my arms around him. Kiss him. Breathe him in. Drag him back to my place and tell him how much I got done while he took my shift. Have sexy times and order takeout and spend the rest of the night grading while he plays NHL Ice. And yes, I bought it. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.
But I can’t do any of that.
He walks toward me, and I take a seat at one of the vacant outdoor tables. “Look, I appreciate what you did today. Truly. It was thoughtful and…really helpful. So thank you.”
Booker gets it. I can see the look on his face. Hurt. “But…” he prompts.
I take a steadying breath. These words are hard. Harder even than the words I spoke in anger last week. “But please don’t do it again.”
Silence settles between us, uncomfortable and awkward. I’ve shared so much with this man— fears, dreams. I’ve shared my bed and my body. But now, we’re like strangers, staring at each other, and it’s my fault. I’ve done this. But I can’t seem to stop. I don’t know how to switch gears and go back to what we had. So I just keep on steamrolling ahead. “It’s just better… Look, I have a lot on my plate, but I have it all covered. So, thank you for today, but…”
“But you don’t need help,” he finishes.
“Yes. Exactly.” I breathe a sigh of relief, but Booker’s not done.
“But. You. Do.And what’s so wrong with needing help? God knows you’ve helped me out. And Willa and Mel and Phoebe and Theo and…”
“It’s different.”
“Why, Ian? Because it’s you? And what? We’re all weak lost little souls who need your help but the mighty Ian McBride can’t accept ours?”
“It’s…”
“What?” Booker pleads, as though the answer to this question holds the secret to his sanity.
“It’s not who I am.” The words leave me in a rush. They’re awkward and maybe hurtful, but they’re true. “I give advice for a freaking living. I tell people what they need. I problem solve. I guide. I mitigate. It’s what I do. What the hell am I doing dispensing so-called wisdom to strangers if I can’t even handle a busy week?”
“You don’t get it,” he says, his voice sad. “Look, I’m off tomorrow, but I might see you the night after. I’m closing with Theo and Cammie.”
I shake my head. “Booker! You can’t—”
“I can,” he says resolutely. “I can do a lot of things, Ian, like stand up for myself, and stand up for you. I get it, you know? You’re the strong one, the one who can take care of anything and everything, including me. And I love it.” He shakes his head. “Loved. Past tense. I loved that you were my sounding board, my safe space.But what you don’t get is that I wanted to take care of you too.”
And with that, he turns and walks away. I should feel some sense of closure or relief. Instead, it hurts like hell, but I know I’m doing the right thing. Only instead of feeling better, all I feel is broken.
