“She’s…” I hesitated, trying to find the right word. “Different.”
Janine arched a brow, unconvinced. “Different how? Goth girl with a soul? Environmentalist with a machete? Give me a thread to pull, baby bro.”
I laughed despite myself. “Her name’s Jesse. She’s an artist and runs a hardware store.”
Janine tilted her head, a slow smile forming. “A woman of many talents.”
I nodded toward the painting in my hallway. “She painted that, and the ones in my bedroom too.” I cleared my throat. “She’s very talented. Remember Malcom Heffner from high school? He’s a gallery curator now. I mentioned her to him and he’s offered her an exhibit.”
She swirled her wine, eying me thoughtfully. “That’s interesting. She doesn’t sound at all like your usual type.”
“She’s not.”
“Tell me more. What’s she like?”
I looked down at my plate for a second, trying not to sound too eager, or too vulnerable. “She’s smart, practical, funny in this dry, no-nonsense way that sneaks up on you. Creative as hell. Paints, sculpts, makes things. She fixed my door the other day.”
My sister looked suitably impressed. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s incredibly competent.”
“Is she pretty?”
Something stirred inside my gut. “She’s gorgeous.”
Janine’s expression softened. “Interesting. Very interesting.”
Now that I’d stopped gushing, I felt squirmy under her gaze. “What’s so damn interesting?”
“It’s the first time you don’t lead with physical attributes when talking about a woman.”
I shrugged, starting to feel defensive. “It’s not the first thing that came to mind.”
Janine rested her chin on her hand, looking at me as though I’d just solved a puzzle she’d been working on for years. “Do you like her?”
“I think I might.” I met her gaze. “Which scares the hell out of me.”
“Good.”
I blinked. “Good?”
“Yeah. You should be scared. It means she matters.” She leaned forward, her voice quieter. “Sebastian, you’re a good man. But you live like someone who’s always on alert. Like you’re waiting for the floor to fall out again.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t if I tried.
“If this girl helps you trust the ground beneath you—even a little—you owe it to yourself to explore that.” She nudged her foot against mine again, gently. “You deserve more than just surviving, kiddo.”
I stared at my sister, at this woman who’d carried both of our worlds on her back for so long, and realized that for all the times she’d saved me, she never stopped rooting for me.
“Thanks.” My voice was thick with emotion.
“Now,” she said briskly, grabbing her wine again. “Do I get to meet her, or are you going to keep this mysterious Jesse hidden like your high school porn stash?”
“I did not have a—okay, first of all—”
“Don’t lie to the woman who raised you.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Maybe. Someday. Let’s see how things go.”
