She leans into my palm as she says, “I can’t... We need to talk about this.”
“We will. I promise.” Leaning into her, I rub the tip of my nose against hers, and she lets me. “Please,” I whisper, as her breath ghosts across my lips, my chin, my neck. I lean back to see her face. Biting her lower lip, she nods.
Corrine holds her hand out to Amy—who has put on clothes, thank god—when we get back.
“I’m so sorry about earlier,” she says, pumping my sister’s hand like she’s a potential client. “I knew Wesley had a sister, I just didn’t realizeyouwere Wesley’s sister.”
Amy smirks at me, waves the apology away. “No worries.”
She walks into the kitchen and Corrine wraps her arms around her middle. I’m not exactly sure what’s happening here but I think I need to facilitate this interaction in some way.
“Hey.” I turn her toward me, watching her chew on the inside of her cheek. “Do you want to get out of here?” I ask. “Would you feel more comfortable at your place?”
She nods quickly, an apology in her eyes.
“’Kay.” I smile. “Give me two seconds.”
I run upstairs and grab a sweater and my Sox cap, and pull on my worn sneakers. Grabbing Corrine’s hand, I call to Amy, “We’re leaving!”
My sister pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?”
“We’re...going to eat out!” I tell her the first lie I can come up with.
“Okay.” Amy narrows her eyes at me. “Remember: The only way to do great work is to do what you love.”
Corrine turns to me as I shut the door behind us, a confused look on her face. “Did she just quote Steve Jobs?”
I pull my ball cap down lower, avoiding her eyes as I jog down the steps. “Oh, yeah. She did,” I say.
“Why?”
I sigh. “It’s what she always says when she gives cunnilingus advice.”
Chapter 24: Corrine
As we walk through my front door, I realize I haven’t had a man in this apartment since James. The first time I brought James here he’d compared everything. Yes, my building has a concierge but he lived in the penthouse. Yes, my home office was large but he had a second bedroomandan office. He had a better view than I did. His appliances were newer.
I’m suddenly relieved I’m not the one marrying that tiresome man.
Wesley follows behind me, stepping down into the living room. He takes in the white walls, the floating glass fireplace, the marble island, all with a happy smile on his face. It’s like...he actually wants to be here or something.
He points to a large blue pennant with “B STRONG” in the universally recognized Boston Red Sox font.
“You like the Sox?” he asks, excitedly.
“I like Boston.”
I place my keys on the counter, pulling off my cardigan, and turn to face him. “Do you want something to drink?”
He shakes his head, pulling off his ball cap and holding it in front of him with both hands.
“Should I take off my shoes...?” He peers down at my stocking feet and the pristine white-and-gold color scheme.
“It’s fine,” I say. But he toes them off anyway.
This man is unbelievably sexy right now.
He puts his hat down beside my keys. “So.”
