Bring Down the Stars (Beautiful Hearts Duet #1)(65)

Mr. Drake raised his glass. “Your mother and I share the same proud gratitude for your accomplishments and commitment to this family.

Connor drew in a breath and let it out slowly and shot me a hopeful look that I read instantly. If his parents were releasing Jefferson’s trust upon graduation, they’d likely do the same for Connor. I didn’t share the same hope.

“Okay, okay, my turn, my turn,” Ma said. “I am just so, so thankful we’re all here today. For Connor, who is like a son to me. For Victoria and Alan, who took care of my family over the years. But no words can describe how grateful I am for your latest act of generosity.”

My head whipped up. I turned questioning eyes at Connor—what the hell?—but he only shook his head—I have no fucking idea.

“What are you talking about, Ma?” I asked.

“Yes, what do you mean?” Paul asked, frowning in confusion.

“I’m talking about home. Victoria and Alan have rescued me from a lifetime of worry.”

“Ma,” I said, a cold pit of unease settling in my gut.

“They bought me a house,” she cried. “Isn’t that something? That cute little number on Union Street?” she said to Paul. “Victoria tells me to take a look, tell me what you think. The next week—this was last Tuesday now—she’s handing me the keys. Can you believe it? Can you believe it, Wes?”

“No,” I said slowly. “No, I can’t.”

Ma dabbed her eyes and Paul put his arm around her stiffly. His eyes met mine and his frown deepened.

He doesn’t approve. The thought was comforting at first until bitterness drowned it. Yippee fuckin’ do, it’s not his business either.

“It was a good investment,” Mr. Drake said. “And if it helps you at the same time, then so be it.”

“It was an investment in our gratitude to you,” Mrs. Drake said. “Especially to Wes, for being such a good influence on Connor.”

“Jesus,” Connor muttered.

Autumn’s gaze went between him and me, her expression a study in confusion.

Mrs. Drake held up her fork. “Now, please, let’s eat before this feast grows cold.”

I pushed food around with my fork, humiliation coursing through my veins instead of blood. I knew Union Street. It wasn’t exactly Park Avenue. The cost of a house in that neighborhood was pocket change to the Drakes, but monumental to my mother.

The weight of everything I owed this family tripled. My mother’s final burden lifted off her shoulders and placed onto mine. I hated how insignificant I’d become. Hated my father for putting me in this position in the first place.

After the feast, I slipped out to the backyard. I didn’t bother with a jacket or coat—I literally needed to cool off. My breath plumed in the November cold as I paced. It was fucking ridiculous to be pissed at the Drakes for helping my mother, yet it felt completely correct.

Finally, I sat on the stone steps, my hands over my knees, my head hung down. Caught between my pride and my mother’s happiness.

One of the French doors opened behind me, and then Autumn sat down, her sweater wrapped tight around her.

“You okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be? The Drakes just bought my mother a fucking house.”

“I know. I get it.”

I tossed a pebble from the steps into the grass. “I feel like I’ve been publicly castrated.”

She laughed softly and nudged my shoulder with hers. “Paul didn’t seem to like it much either. He’s cool. I get a good feeling from him.”

“You do?”

She frowned at me. “You don’t?”

I shrugged. “Most guys she hangs around are leeches.”

“Not him,” Autumn said. “He’s protective. I like them together.”

“I guess. I wish she didn’t make such an embarrassment of herself over the whole damn thing.”

“She’s just being herself. I like her, too. She’s genuine. And I like Mrs. Drake for liking your mom almost more than anything else.”

Thank you for saying that. Thank you for fucking understanding when it feels like I’m insane. Thank you for being here with me in this moment, in the moonlit cold, with your cheeks pink and your mouth parted. If only I could kiss you, I would…

“Weston?”

I blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“I said, try to think about how less stressed your mom will be. After you graduate, you’ll become a Wall Street Vulture and buy her a bigger house.” She grinned. “Or a honeymoon in Tahiti for her and Paul.”

A silence grew warm and soft between us, even in the cold crisp air of falling night. Autumn stared straight ahead over the vast expanse of the Drakes’ backyard. A coppery red tendril danced across the white porcelain of her cheek. Her hazel eyes full of thoughts of the world and the people in it.

She’s too sweet for my bitterness. Too kind for my mean streak.

Voices rose in anger from inside. Autumn and I exchanged glances and scrambled off the steps, into the small sitting room off the kitchen where Connor argued with his parents.

“… She’s a very sweet girl,” Mr. Drake was saying. “But you really see something happening long-term with her?”