“What? No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “That’s nothow it works, Whiskey. You were young. You didn’t do anything wrong.Heis the one who doesn’t deserve to be happy.”
“Logically, I know you’re right. But nothing about the way I feel is logical.”
“Does he still teach there?” I asked through clenched teeth, mentally calculating how long it would take to drive from here to Evanston. I hated the man for taking something so precious from her.
Delia shook her head, slipping her wrist from my grasp to lace her fingers with mine, as though anchoring herself to the present, lest the past sweep her away. “He got fired after it came to light that he’d been sleeping with a student.”
I sucked in a gasp. “You got caught?”
Another head shake. “Someone else came forward.”
“Jesus Christ,” I swore, squeezing her hand. “I’m so sorry, Delia.”
After swiping at her eyes with her free hand, she said, “So to answer your earlier question, of course I have a crush on you. But I don’t know if I’m ready, Owen. That relationship broke me for a long time, and is solely responsible for the chaos demon that lives in my brain. I haven’t been in a relationship that wasn’t purely physical since then, and you deserve better than that. Especially at your advanced age,” she added with a chuckle, and I gripped her hand tighter in warning. With a sigh, she added, “It’s hard for me to trust, and I know you’ve never done anything to show me Ican’ttrust you, but I need time.”
“Then time is what you’ll get.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, offering me a watery smile.
“Now I have a question for you.”
“Shoot,” I said.
“Were things ever serious with my sister?”
“No,” I answered immediately. “It was just sex, Whiskey. A summer fling. We’re just friends now.”
Delia nodded. “That’s what she’s always said too, but I needed to hear it from you.”
“Turns out, she wasn’t the Delatou sister for me.”
Delia blinked slowly at me. “Are you saying I am?”
I shrugged. “I’m saying you could be if you give us a chance.”
“I’m trying,” she whispered. “But…”
“You need time. I know.”
Delia grinned, her shoulders relaxing, and my entire chest lit up at the sight of it.
I pulled my hand away to take a fortifying sip of my whiskey, then steered the conversation to safer ground.
“You should try exercising,” I said. “It’ll take the edge off.”
Delia’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “Off what?”
“All that pent up energy.”
It was something I was all too familiar with, thanks to the million younger siblings and pushing myself for years with football.
Delia was once again on her feet, lifting my empty glass out of my hand to refill it. As she poured liquid—it looked like the bourbon this time—she glanced at me over her shoulder.
“You talking about sex?” she asked. “You offering?”
I nearly choked on my own spit. Once I’d composed myself by hacking up a lung, I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. Leave it to her to make light of sex right after telling me the story of a man preying on her naïveté and the power he held over her.
“No, like weight lifting. Cardio. Yoga. Normalshit.”
