“Nope. We’re talking about it,” Kathleen said. “What’s going on? Why do you shut me down every time I ask about that morning? I can see how this woman might jump to the wrong conclusion, but didn’t she chill out when you explained I was your sister?”
He said nothing, and Kathleen let out a low exaggerated groan. “Jason Adam Rhodes. You didn’t tell her?”
“She wouldn’t let me,” he snapped. “I fucking chased her all the way down the street, but she was already on the PATH by the time I caught up.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we live in the age of phones. And email. And Facebook. And Twitter. And texting—”
He spun around. “You think I didn’t call?”
His sister crossed her arms and eyed him closely. “How many times?”
Fuck. “I don’t know. Ten? She never picked up.”
“And she just ignored all your voice mails?”
He ground his teeth, and Kathleen just shook her head. “You moron. You gave up! You could have just fixed this with a simple text saying, ‘Hey, false alarm, that was my little sis,’ but you let her believe I was one of your million flings . . . Why?”
He lifted a shoulder. “She saw what she wanted to see.”
Kathleen stood up and crossed to him, her eyes annoyed. “Sure, which was another woman in her boyfriend’s home. Can you blame her for jumping to conclusions?”
He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “Why is it that I’m supposed to be okay with everyone’s assumptions about me being for shit?”
Kathleen frowned. “What are you talking about?”
He spun toward her, angry now. “I’m talking about the fact that people have been deciding who I am without my consent from the day I came out of the womb. About the fact that every time there was a fight in kindergarten, they assumed it was the drug addict’s kid. Every time someone’s lunch money went missing, it was the foster kid. There wasn’t a single girl in high school whose daddy would let her go to prom with me because I drove a beat-up car that I bought on my own. Fuck, even in the military, people got it in their heads that I was the loose cannon to keep an eye on.”
Kathleen’s eyes had gone soft, and she rested a hand on his arm. He checked the urge to shake her off, but barely. It was more than he’d ever said out loud, to anyone, and he felt uncomfortably exposed.
“I know you’ve had a crap time of it,” his sister said gently. “But you’re so strong. You’ve never let it bother you.”
“Yeah, well, this time it bothered me,” he grumbled.
“Why?” Kathleen pressed. “Why with this woman did her lack of faith cut so deeply?”
This time he did shake his sister off, as he circled, feeling like a caged animal. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“Damn it, Kathleen!”
“Damn it, Jason!” she shot back.
He opened his mouth to roar at her, but instead he let his hands drop to his sides. He lifted his palms helplessly, only to let them drop once more. “Because she mattered, okay? She mattered a hell of a lot, and I wanted her to just . . . believe. To trust.”
To love.
Kathleen came to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, trapping his arms against his side. “I know, big brother. I know. I want her to have trusted you, too. But to play devil’s advocate, did you ever give her any reason to believe that there wouldn’t be a woman fresh out of your bed on a Sunday morning?”
“What do you mean?”
Kathleen pulled back. “I mean, did you ever tell her that you cared enough to stop your whole playboy act? Did you ever tell her you loved her?”
“I didn’t say I—”
His sister held up a hand. “Please. Don’t insult either one of us by denying how you feel about this woman. You have creepy pictures all over your computer screen, and come to think of it, you’ve barely gone out with a single woman since that whole fiasco last year.”
Jason shook his head, indicating the topic was closed. He hadn’t had time to think about how he felt about what happened between him and Leah in the Hamptons. Hadn’t had time to register the pain of realizing that she’d walked out on him again.
And that he’d let her go without explaining. Again.
He shoved that last thought aside. Just because Kathleen was determined to shove pesky thoughts into his head didn’t mean he had to pay attention.
“I need to work, kid,” he said, putting a hand on Kathleen’s head and ruffling her hair. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“Yeah. Sure we will,” she said with a snort. “Okay, fine. Work. I’ll make us sandwiches, and then I’m going home for a much-overdue nap.”
Jason settled back at his computer, trying to lose himself in his work, and succeeding, mostly, save for the jolt he got every time Leah’s red hair appeared on his screen.
Did you ever tell her you loved her?
He didn’t love her. Hell, they’d only dated for two months.
And yet it had only taken one weekend for everything to come rushing back. One fucking weekend, one night, really, for him to realize . . .
Shit.
For him to realize that she was the only one he wanted.