“You first,” he says with a smile when we’re both more or less put back together. “But I’m leaving in two minutes, tops. I want you back at my place as soon as you can get away.”
I lift onto my tiptoes to kiss him again. “I’ll be out of here in three.”
I slip through the door, into the entry foyer, and walk back to the party. I find Selene and let her know I’m tired and heading home. She tries to talk me into staying in my room here, but she’s distracted by another friend, so I don’t have to come up with an excuse. I give her a quick hug goodbye and leave through the front door.
Braxton is waiting just outside. Although he’s shirtless and it’s a freezing October night, he puts his coat around my shoulders. He takes my hand in his, twining our fingers together, and we walk back to his condo in silence.
“That ought to do it,” I say, turning the wrench one more time. Selene’s kitchen sink was leaking, so I came over between clients to take a look. “It just needed a little tightening.”
I get up and brush my hands together.
“Thanks,” she says. “Do you have time to stay for lunch?”
“Depends,” I say. “Are you cooking?”
She glares at me. “I can cook.”
I raise an eyebrow at her.
She rolls her eyes and gets a bag out of the fridge. “Fine. I grabbed sandwiches before you got here.”
She sets out our lunch on the island and we both pull up a barstool.
“Do you think Mom and Dad would have kept this place?” she asks out of the blue. “You know, if they were still around.”
I put my sandwich down. “Yeah, I think they would have. This is a great old house.”
“I just wonder. Life would be so different. Would we still live so close? Would they have us over for dinner?” She pauses for a moment. “Sorry, I know it’s hard to talk about them.”
It is hard to talk about them, but I don’t want her to feel like she can’t. “It’s okay, I don’t mind remembering them sometimes. You can talk to me about whatever you want.”
She nudges me with her elbow. “Thanks, Brax. You’re a good guy, you know that?”
I feel a twinge of guilt, and shrug. Maybe I should just tell her about Kylie. But I know Kylie wants to be here when I do, and she’s at work. “Hey, we should do a movie night. Just the three of us.”
“Sure,” Selene says. “If you can get Kylie to come.”
“Why wouldn’t she come?” I ask.
“Well, she’s been banging some guy for who knows how long and won’t introduce me, so…”
Even though I know the guy is me, a jolt of jealousy rams itself into my gut. Calm down, dumbass. I force my face to stillness, but I know Selene saw my expression change. She’s looking at me with too much scrutiny.
The stab of jealousy turns into a swarm of guilt. I never should have lied to her.
“So, what about you?” she asks. “You haven’t said a word about a girl in months. Who are you sleeping with these days?”
“God, Selene, why would you even ask me that? I don’t want to know if you’re sleeping with someone.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. You seem like you’re busy all the time. I figure there must be a girl involved.”
How should I play this? I don’t want to play it at all anymore. I’m sick of hiding my relationship with Kylie. It was a stupid thing to do in the first place, and I want it to be over. But I have to tread carefully. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t hurt my sister. Losing Mom and Dad almost killed her, and I couldn’t live with myself if I caused her pain.
Of course, I’ve been lying to her about Kylie for months. Isn’t that going to cause her pain?
No, it’s going to make her mad, and I can deal with mad Selene.
“Yeah, there might be someone,” I say.
“Do you want to tell me about her?” she asks.
There’s something weird in her voice. First of all, since when does she care who I’m seeing, especially if I’m just having a fling on the side with someone I don’t intend to bring around? It wouldn’t be the first time, not by a long shot. Second, she sounds too suspicious. Like she knows what’s going on and she’s trying to get me to admit it.
Fuck.
“Why do you want to know?” I ask, shooting her an annoyed look.
She shrugs again. “Just wondering.”
She picks up her sandwich, but she stares straight ahead into the kitchen. I can tell she’s thinking about something. After a lengthy silence, she puts down her food.
“I see the way you look at her,” she says, her voice unusually soft.
My chest clenches. “Look at who?”
“Kylie.”
I try to laugh it off, like she must be joking. “What does that mean?”
“You can’t look at her like that, Brax,” she says.
She’s not joking. Shit. I get up and go to the fridge so she won’t see my face. “I don’t look at her like anything.”
“Yes, you do.”
She’s right. No matter how hard I try to hide my feelings when the three of us are together—which isn’t very often these days, and I realize how fucked up that is—I know it still shows.
I decide to feel this out. “So what if I do?”