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“You could make bank if you sold that,” he says.

“Nah. It’s not for sale. But thank you.” I hold the guitar out to him. “Would you like to play? I know it’s different than?—”

Wesley shakes his head quickly. “No. No music.”

“Never again?”

He shrugs. “Not right now, at least. I wasn’t…” He glides a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t a good person when I played music. While I was in recovery, I correlated my using with my music. It all came with the lifestyle.”

I nod, even though I don’t really understand what he’s going through. The look of fear makes sense now. “I won’t ask you to play again.”

“Before I went to my m— Suzette’s house, I saw something that triggered me. I think that’s why I went to that house. My head was already fucked up, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. It was a mistake to go there.”

“Do you want to sell? Demolish it? Burn it to the fucking ground?” I chuckle, but I abruptly cut it off when I catch the serious look on his face. “You can’t burn it down, Wesley. That’s a felony.”

He cracks a small smile. “One could wish. Is it possible to demolish it? I don’t ever want to see that house again.”

“You can do what you want with it,” I say, sitting on the couch beside him with my body turned in his direction. “It’s yours.”

Wesley exhales slowly. “I don’t want it, but I don’t want to live in a world where it still exists.”

“Okay. I’ll ask my dad what you have to do. He knows all that shit. And if you want, I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

“Thanks, Jax.” Then surprising me, Wesley lies down in my lap, tucking himself close to me with his eyes closed. “You’ve always been safe. A real friend.”

I smile down at his relaxed face and tentatively push his hair back from his forehead. He sighs in contentment, snuggling closer. I continue to drag my fingers through his hair.

“A friend, huh?” slips from my mouth, and I curse myself for jumping the gun. Just because he’s lying in my lap doesn’t mean he wants to be more than friends. But fuck, I’m still hopelessly in love with him.

No matter how much time passes, there will be no one that will ever reach my heart the way Wesley has. I thought Evan would be the one to erase him, but he couldn’t hold a candle to a kid I only knew for two years.

I thought after he’d been gone from my life for so long, the feelings I had for him would fade.

But sitting across from him at the restaurant had butterflies fluttering in my belly and a frog in my throat.

It was a fight to act natural, like it was a normal occurrence that I was sitting across from my first love.

I was a fucking mess the entire time. I’m surprised I got through it.

Wesley shrugs, though pink crops up on his cheeks. I’m relieved that he’s as nervous about the question as I am, so I drop it.

I start to hum Lana’s Melody, hoping it will take any burdens from his shoulders, if only for a few minutes .

It’s not long before Wesley joins in, his voice like an angel’s, even when he’s only humming.

“You’ve gotten better,” he says when we finish the song. “You were terrible when we were kids.”

I bark a laugh. “I wouldn’t say all that.

” He cracks an eye open and gives me a look, and I laugh again.

“Okay, yeah, I was. But that was because I wasn’t as good as you.

I thought I’d be great overnight, and in my fifteen-year-old mind, practice wouldn’t help.

That’s why I always liked to hear you play. You were effortlessly good.”

“I got it from my dad,” he says, and I snap up every morsel of personal information he releases. “He played a lot of music by ear. He liked the saxophone though, but he could play the guitar, the flute and drums really well. Our house was a noisy affair.”

“Sounds like fun,” I say with a smile. “Did you pick up anymore instruments?”

“Yeah. I can play the piano just as well as I play the guitar. We didn’t have one at home, but my school had one and a keyboard, and me and my friends would stay after school some days to practice, and I’d play.”

“The guys from Lana’s Mischief?”

A pained expression crosses his face, but he smooths his features before I can figure it out. “Mitch and Kas. And Vic.”

“Vic?” I’d never heard that name before. The other member of the band, as far as I knew, was named Tech. “Who’s that?”

Wesley is quiet, his breathing hitching just a little.

He doesn’t seem like he wants to answer, and I don’t push him. He’s been through enough tonight. If he doesn’t want to talk, that’s fine.

After a minute or two, his breathing deepens, and I smile, realizing he fell asleep.

He must have been worn-out after what he went through tonight.

I would rather have tucked him into my bed so he can be comfortable, but I won’t wake him.

So, I grab a blanket from the floor and drape it over him, then relax as much as I can.

I continue to run my fingers through his hair, listening to his soft breathing. Thinking about him having such a hard time at Suzette’s house tonight makes my heart throb, and anger quickly follows up on the heels of that.

She was a shitty fucking mother. When he got famous, she would brag to anyone that would listen that her son was a star.

It took one of our old teachers to shout at her in the middle of a supermarket that she has no right to lay claim to him when she never helped him when he was under her roof.

No one heard her boasting again after that.

“Don’t worry,” I whisper, looking down at his sleeping face. “I won’t let anyone else hurt you. I’ll keep you safe.”

The strength of my vow flows through me so strongly that it scares me, but I mean it. No one will be able to harm Wesley again.

Not while I’m around.