Sensing my presence, Sam looks up and spots me at the door. The smile doesn’t leave his face, and I give him my own smile as I walk across the room.
“I guess picking that book was a good choice?” I ask
“Yep. I’ve got a joke for you.” His grin grows. “What’s the difference between roast beef and pea soup?”
I sit down on the end of the mattress. “What’s that?”
“Anyone can roast beef, but no one can pee soup.”
He finishes the joke with another round of laughter, and I join in.
“That’s a good one!”
Once his laughter calms enough to talk, he goes for another.
“Why did Harry Potter go bald in his teens?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Because he lost his Hedwig.”
I giggle and shake my head. “That’s just awful!”
His eyes crinkle with how big his grin is. “But it’s funny. What did the pencil say to the pen?” he asks.
I lift my shoulders in a shrug.
“I was Groot.”
My hand flies to my mouth, and my eyes widen in mock horror. “Oh my God. Poor Groot!”
He tells me a few more jokes, which has us both rolling around on the mattress in laughter.
A shuffling sound comes from over by the door, and I quickly sit up, my eyes flying in that direction. My jaw drops, along with my stomach, when I find Wesley standing in the doorway, his hands casually shoved into his pockets as he watches the two of us with a look of concern wrinkling his brows.
I jump to my feet and quickly make my way over to him. Grabbing him by the arm, I turn him away from Sam, whose wide eyes are firmly on the stranger.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss.
Wesley’s brows drop even lower. “I followed you.”
“Apparently,” I mutter, feeling like an idiot for not paying attention to my surroundings when I came into the building. How could I have been so careless? “Why?”
His eyes move back and forth between mine, the stunning grayness filled with questions. “Because I was concerned about you.” He looks over his shoulder toward Sam, and my stomach churns with dread. “And it’s obvious my concern was valid.” He looks back at me. “Who is he?”
I drop my hand from his arm and fold my arms over my chest, gripping each side of my dress tightly. Lifting my chin, I glare at him. “My brother.”
“What are you two doing here?”
I slam my mouth closed. Part of me wants to tell Wesley the truth. There’s something calming about him that makes me think he’s a man I could trust. But I can’t. It’s not just my life that would be put in jeopardy. Sam has been through enough already. I won’t risk him being put through more.
“That’s my business. Not yours,” I tell Wesley hotly.
His eyes do that assessing thing again before he speaks. “You can trust me, Jersey.”
I’m already shaking my head. “I don’t know you, so I don’t know if I can trust you. I won’t take that chance. There’s too much at stake.”
The muscles in his cheeks twitch, and from the look, it appears he’s not too pleased with my response. He’ll just have to get over it.