“Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? I’m thirty years old, and my brother thinks I need a babysitter.” I walk over to the counter and grip the side of it. “No, he doesn’t. He’s just worried about you… we both are.” Her eyes flare to mine. “You’re worried about me?” I gulp. There’s no way I would ever lie to her. “Yes, I am. I don’t trust Wes, and I’m not willing to just stand by and leave you unprotected—”
