This was how I’d ruin my life. This was what would do it to me. It wouldn’t be the thunderclap fallout at the end. It would be all the paper-cut moments where I died a little while she had no idea.
“Yeah.” I went back to my phone. “Is that okay?”
She hesitated long enough for me to glance up. “I don’t want to hurt them,” she said.
When it ends.
She didn’t say that but it was obvious.
“We won’t,” I said.
We stared at each other. I knew she was thinking wewouldhurt my family when we split up. But I was thinking we could spare everyone and just keep this ruse going for the next fifty, sixty years.
“It’s going to be all right,” I said. “I don’t know how but I know it will be.”
With a nod, Emme headed toward the bathroom. I flopped onto her bed and groaned into her pillow. It smelled like her which only forced another groan.
Ryan: Noon sounds great
Ryan: Emme is very excited about brunch. She’s also excited about seeing you but I can’t understand why
Ruthie: Love you too
Ruthie was halfwaythrough a Bloody Mary when we arrived at the restaurant. Her gaze dropped to where I had Emme’s hand closed in mine and she unfurled a cutthroat smile that said shesaw straight through this little act and she intended to nail me to the wall for it.
But then she popped up from her seat and folded Emme into a tight embrace. They yelled at each other about how long it’d been and how good the other looked and a hundred other things I didn’t catch because they’d gone ultrasonic at some point.
When we finally sat down, Emme plastered herself right up against me. I had no choice but to sling an arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t strictly necessary to twist the ends of her hair around my fingers but when Emme made a show of dropping a hand to my thigh,everythingbecame necessary.
“This is new,” Ruthie drawled, Bloody Mary in hand. “When did it all start?”
“Around Ryan’s birthday,” Emme said easily. She skimmed the menu, tapping her finger beside the description for a frozen Irish coffee that had enough whiskey to make her silly with a few sips.
“Mmm. You’d like that,” I said to her.
“Then not long,” Ruthie said. “Just about a month, really.”
“We met up one night to celebrate and…yeah, it happened fast,” Emme said, a metric ton of suggestion in her tone. My sister’s steely gaze dulled a bit at the implication Emme and I had been tearing up the sheets. “But how else would it be with us? We’ve known each other forever and—you know, it was just the right moment. Everything fell into place and”—she looked up at me, her eyes heavy with hunger—“here we are. At last.”
She raised her fingertips to my jaw and drew me closer. I arched a brow in question and she gave a quick dip of her chin. This woman, fuck. She could read my moves from a mile away. I closed the narrow gap between us and kissed her while my sister loudly slurped up the rest of her drink.
The backs of Emme’s fingers traveled over the line of my jaw and I’d swear to god the whole restaurant went silent. Her touch,light and lazy as though it was an afterthought, had heat pooling in my chest, my arms. I didn’t think I’d ever be cold again.
Ruthie plunked her glass down on the table hard enough to rattle the silverware. I pulled back to say to Emme, “I think my sister feels neglected.”
“Probably.” She nodded in a way that had her lips brushing mine and it took everything in the world to keep from hauling her into my lap and just fucking keeping her there. “We should’ve stayed in bed.”
I had to close my eyes because if I looked at her, if I looked at those pert, pouty lips for another minute, I’d find myself hard and miserablein publicwithmy sister watching. Since none of that could occur, I cleared my throat and blinked down at the menu. “What are you in the mood for, Muggsy?”
She gave my thigh a light slap. “Behave yourself.”
“Well, shit. Okay. I was wrong. I get it. This is real as fuck and you love each other in sick, serious ways.” My sister rolled her eyes. “I’m sold and I’m expecting a plus-one to the wedding. But I am drowning in the pheromones here. We are in a busy restaurant on a Sunday morning and you two are a hiccup away from making a baby in front of me. I ambeggingyou to turn it down before I suffocate and die.” Ruthie lifted her glass, calling to the nearest waiter, “Another round over here? And keep ’em coming. Thanks.”
Because I was both an idiot and a masochist, I trapped Emme’s hand on my leg. Just brilliant. “I’mbehaving. You’re the one causing problems.”
“The jalapeño grits sound good,” Ruthie said, sounding bored. “The crab cake benedict too.”
“No. Get something else,” I said, shifting to stare across the table at my sister. “Em’s allergic to shellfish.”
