“And the guy handed you your ass,” Alix said, laughing. “I guess it’s a change. You’ve always been the guy who’s been on top, the guy with all the answers who never let anyone give you any crap.”
“Actually, I did survive the fight,” I replied. “It went to the scorecards, where the guy won two rounds to one, so I guess I did okay. But yeah, I had that massive shiner, and two days later had to do a mock court case in front of two professors. To make it even worse, I was assigned defense in a domestic violence case. So there I was, looking like the victim of DV myself, and trying to defend a mock criminal.”
Alix’s lip trembled, and a light went off in my head. My initial idea had been right, and I had further evidence. But I didn’t want to press the issue right then, although I made a few adjustments to my travel plans mentally. “Come on,” I said, taking Alix’s hand. “The pier is great, but you said you were going to take me to an awesome Indian place, and I could go for some garlic nan bread if they have it.”
“No garlic, but what about butter and cheese?” Alix answered, her fingers entwining with mine like they had always belonged there. “It’s a cheat meal of mine.”
“Sure,” I said, then stopped. “Just a second, let me go ahead and get that transfer done. It should only take a second” I said, pulling out my phone.
Two minutes later, I had logged into my bank account, and I got the information I needed from her. “Okay, the bank says I need to give verbal authorization on Monday during business hours, but that you’ll have it credited by the end of business Monday,” I said, showing her.
Alix’s eyes filled with tears, and she smiled, wrapping her arms around me again and squeezing. “Thank you, Kade. Seriously.”
I returned the hug, ignoring that Alix was my stepsister and just enjoying that she was a beautiful woman who I found enchanting. Her hair was soft and smelled like a pure, honest shampoo, nothing fancy or high priced. Seriously, I think the girl washed her hair with Johnson’s Baby Shampoo that morning. In any case, my arms held her close, my eyes closed in appreciation of the moment, until I heard a comment off to my side.
“You know, Gerald, you never hold me like that anymore.”
“You’re nowhere near as beautiful as that girl, Jayne. Even when you were in your twenties.”
“You’re nowhere near as handsome as that young man either, Gerald.”
I opened my eyes and saw a couple standing off to the side, watching us with envy. Alix turned her face and stepped back, blushing again. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“I’m not,” I said, still taking her hand when we started walking again.
“I guess we just look like a normal couple.”
“I know, I mean I didn’t meet you until I was nearly the age you are now,” I answered. “And we don’t look at all alike, naturally.”
“Speaking of looks, can I ask you something personal?” Alix asked. “What sort of girl is your type, anyway? I’ve never really heard a lot about your personal life. Even when you were at USC you kept things pretty under wraps.”
“How do you know I’m not gay?” I teased, eyes glinting. “Maybe I’m into guys more than girls.”
Alix laughed and shook her head. “No, I’d know that if you were. I’m a bit naive, I’ll admit that, but being in fashion modeling for five years, you quickly develop a very sharp gaydar. It helps to know, it avoids potential awkward situations.”
I had to give it to her there. “I guess I’ve never had a certain type,” I said, feeling for the first time like I was the one being questioned, but not minding it at all. “I mean, I’ve dated all sorts of women.”
“Bull crap Kade,” Alix laughed, teasing me. “Come on, every guy has a type. I’m not saying you wouldn’t date a girl who’s a ten in any particular category. And I don’t mean mentally. Personalities come in any type of container, and can always trump a body, at least to me, and I think to you too. But if you had your druthers, everything else being equal, what’s your type?”
I don’t know why I said what I did. Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the fact that I had spent the day being more impressed with Alix than I was frustrated. I don’t know. But I told her the utter, undeniable truth. “Tall, blonde, blue eyes, soft and plump lips . . . an English Rose type with beautiful curves and silky, smooth skin. What about you?”
We stopped walking. Alix turned to me, and was silent a moment before speaking. “Tall, dark hair, handsome, athletic but not bulky, chiseled jaw, you know the kind,” she said, reaching up and tracing my jawline.