“I never met my birth father.”
She looks down at her hands in her lap and I’m temporarily distracted by the smooth skin of her thighs beneath her palms.
“My mom had me young. She met my dad—” she motions to the man in the photograph “—when she was still pregnant with me. They got married before I was one and then had my brothers a few years later. They’re big and loud and I’ve always been the odd one out of the family.” She shrugs. “But we all fit together. In our own little way.”
I want to ask her more about her family, but she beats me to the plate. “They’re your age, I think. The boys.”
“Twenty-five?” I ask.
“Twenty-four.”
I nod and place the frame back on the table. “How’s your mom doing, by the way?”
“She’s coping,” she says. “Sebastian and I will probably go visit at Thanksgiving.”
“Does he live in Boston?”
“He’s in law school in Philly. John and James live down the street from each other, the next town over from my parents. They teach at the same high school.” She smiles. “John teaches chemistry and math and James runs the drama department.”
“You know a lot of twins, then,” I say. She frowns, and I point to my chest. “Amy and I are twins.”
“Oh. Right... Does Amy know who I am?” she asks.
I tuck her hair behind her ear, move closer. “Yes. Is that okay?”
She shrugs again. “She’s your sister,” she says, as if that settles it. “What did she say?” Her eyes are guarded. “When you told her?”
I kiss her throat, suck at her pulse point. “She told me...” I pause because she told me a lot and most of it I don’t want to repeat to Corrine. “She told me it was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
Corrine laughs through her nose. “You and me both.”
“Corrine,” I say. “I don’t want to talk about our siblings anymore.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
I stand, hold out my hand to her. “I don’t want to talk at all.” I pause, reflecting. “Unless it’s for you to tell me to eat you out again.”
Chapter 26: Corrine
As I come around the corner to my office on Monday, Wesley sits at his desk wearing an adorably obnoxious smirk. He holds up his wrist, tapping his watch. His playfulness tugs at my lips. He stands as I get closer.
“I got to work before you.” His smile grows wider. “That’s never happened in the history of Wesley.”
The smile crawls up one side of my face. “That’s not exactly true,” I say.
“Until I saw your apartment with my own eyes, I was pretty convinced you slept at the office.”
I laugh, opening the office door. “Now you’re just being silly.” He follows me inside and I jump when his hands come down on my shoulders.
“Oh,” I say, glancing at him as he pulls my red coat from my arms. “Thank you.”
He lets out a pained sound. “You look like a fucking knockout.”
I flatten my hands down my black wrap dress. “I know,” I say quietly. A flush fills my cheeks. “That’s why I wore it.”
He hangs the coat on the hook on the back of the door and pulls the blinds on the glass-paneled wall. Then he grabs me around my waist.
“Wesley.” His name is a soft sigh on my lips.
