Page 8 of Sweet Ruin

“Oh no, why?” I laughed as I followed him into the room.

“My family throws a charity gala every Thanksgiving and, apparently, he’s spread the word he’s looking for a date. Girls are coming here looking for him.”

“Why wouldn’t he just ask someone?”

“I think he wants multiple options to choose from.”

“That’s terrible.”

“That’s Sawyer,” Wes agreed. “Speaking of the gala. Would you like to be my date? It’s in New York. Maybe you could visit your dad at the same time.”

It sounded wonderful, but I found myself shaking my head. “I would love to, but I was thinking about planning a trip home for Thanksgiving to see my mom. I miss her so much, and I really want to spend the holiday with her.”

“Maybe she’d like to come too?” Wes suggested. “She’d be more than welcome.”

My cheeks warmed as I smiled at him. “That’s really kind of you to offer, but Mom always hosts a big Thanksgiving feast at the café. It’s a kind of a tradition.”

“Say no more.” He gave me an understanding smile. “I thought you might have family plans. But I wanted to make sure you knew you were invited.”

“Thanks.” Wes was sweet like that. I could tell he really wanted me to be there, but he didn’t hesitate to reassure me it was okay if I wasn’t. I wondered if Noah would have been just as understanding, but then I quickly ignored the unwelcome thought. I didn’t want to compare the two boys.

“The burgers are on their way,” Wes said. "I hope it’s okay, but I went ahead and ordered your usual cheeseburger. No pickles and extra fries, right?”

“That sounds perfect.” I had no idea Wes knew what I normally ordered, let alone that he’d remember it.

“I’ll never understand how you can like burgers without pickles, but I guess you had to have one fault.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m sure that isn’t my only fault.”

“It’s the only one I’ve been able to find,” he said with a grin. “Now, do you want to get started on our homework or wait until we’ve eaten?”

He was stretching his arms as he spoke, and his face contorted in discomfort before he lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. He must have still been feeling sore after his early-morning rowing practice.

“We should probably start on our homework,” I said. “I have so many math problems to complete before class tomorrow. It’s almost like the teacher knew I had a study date with my boyfriend tonight and he wanted me to actually study. It was incredibly inconsiderate of him.”

“Sorude.” Wes chuckled. “Okay, let’s get that out of the way then.”

I pulled out my books and sat on the bed next to Wes. I found it hard to focus on the equations though because Wes kept gripping and rubbing his shoulders. I could see he was uncomfortable, and I hated knowing he was in pain.

“How are your shoulders feeling?” I asked. “No better?”

“They are still ridiculously tight.” He winced again as he rolled his shoulders back and forth. “I could really do with a massage, but we don’t have a physio coming until Wednesday.”

“I could try to give them a massage, if you like…” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Did I even know how to give a massage?

“Really?” Wes’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “That would be amazing.”

“I mean, the key word here istry,” I said. “I have no idea how to give a proper massage. I might injure you further.”

He laughed. “I doubt that. I’m sure it will help.”

“Still, maybe I should get you to sign some kind of liability waiver first?”

“Don’t worry, I trust you.”

“I know you do, but I don’t want to be blamed for tragically ruining the career of a future Olympic rower in a freak massage accident.”

He chuckled again. “Surely you can’t be that bad.”

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