“Being intimate,” I finally say.
Again, Summer keeps to her word and doesn’t say anything. I kinda miss her outbursts; I never thought I’d say that about her. It’s no secret that I’ve always found Summer a little too much.
I give her another moment to say something, but she keeps her silence.
“Then, I kicked her out of my room.”
Shocking the hell out of me, all she says is, “Why?”
“Why?” I parrot.
“Yeah, why? I’ve watched her love you through her entire childhood, now you’re telling me you have feelings for her, so why did you kick her out of your room? It seems like you regret it,” she says in her matter-of-fact but calm tone.
“Because . . . because I couldn’t be the man,” I push out.
At that, she laughs.
I knew I was going to eventually regret talking to her.
“The man?” she asks through her laughter. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Just forget I said anything,” I tell her. “So, you’re moving to Calgary?” I ask, my lame attempt at changing the topic.
“Oh no, Liam, we’re talking about this. I’m sorry I laughed; I shouldn’t have. It was very insensitive of me. I can tell you really like her, so, let’s fix it.”
“You want to help?” I’m somewhat shocked.
“Liam, stop thinking I don’t like you! I swear, you’re so dense! I’ve always wanted to be your friend. All I wanted when I was a little girl, even now, if I’m being honest, is to be your friend. To not just be the annoying little sister. To get an ounce of your attention. So, just tell me why you pushed her away.”
Was I really that bad of an older brother that I couldn’t even see that my younger sister wanted my attention? Just the fact that she seems to think I don’t care about her bothers me. Does she really think I don’t know every single thing about every country she’s ever worked in? That her stupid asshole of a boyfriend in university didn’t get a nice little visit from me? Just because I don’t talk to her a lot, doesn’t mean I don’t care about her.
“That came out wrong,” she says, pulling me away from my thoughts. “You’re not an awful brother, Liam. I know I’m not your cup of tea.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, harshly.
“I know that I’m too much for you, Liam. And that’s fine, I promise. Now, can we just get back to the topic of Sloane?” she asks.
I made her uncomfortable; I can hear it in her voice. Summer never avoids anything.
“Summer, you’re not too much for me. I always thought that you didn’t like me. That I wasn’t fun or outgoing enough for you—tooserious for you.”
“Damn,” she says. “So, I spent all this time hating you for nothing.”
To that, I stay silent.
“I’m joking! I never hated you! But seriously, what do you mean? I’m not going to judge, promise! I mean, I pushed Hannah to go after Ian, and look at them now!”
Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself to bare my soul to my younger sister, something I never thought I would do. “I don’t know. I guess it hit me that I was injured and couldn’t treat her like I wanted to. We did what we did, and it was great, but then she got up to go to the bathroom to clean up,” I tell her, keeping some details to myself. Some things a younger sister just shouldn’t know. Like how I couldn’t grab Sloane like I wanted to. Or how she was nervous about sitting on my face, but there was no other way to get what I wanted. How she had to be on top. How I couldn’t take control, how I couldn’t ease her into it. How all I could do was sit there. My leg wouldn’t let me do anything but enjoy and let her do everything. She had to doeverything. She had to take control of the situation for her first time. I couldn’t take care of her, because of my fucken leg. All I could do was sit there, and it gutted me. I couldn’t even hold her or cuddle her after because my leg needs to be placed at the perfect angle or it hurts. She deserved to be cleaned by me, to be able to just lay there and enjoy the afterglow. She should have been able to just lay there and be doted on.
“She shouldn’t have had to. It was her first time.” That detail slips out of me and I don’t realize it did until Summer lets out a breath. “I mean, she got up to getmea glass of water. I couldn’t get up to get her Tylenol and water; she had to do everything herself. She deserves so much better than that. She deserves someone who’s capable of taking care of her. I can’t do that.”
“Have you asked her what she wants? Or are you just assuming all this bullshit?” she asks, in her usual, matter-of-fact way. “I’m ready to bet anything—name your price—that she doesn’t see it that way at all. We’re not as delicate as all you men make us out to be.” I can hear the eye roll in her voice. “Like, seriously? Why are all men like this? You know we don’t need to be saved, right? That we can handle ourselves? That we’re capable? You said it yourself, the girl moved across the country, alone. Do you really think having to get her own glass of water was such a hard task for her? I think the hard task for her was dealing with your shitty attitude.”
“I know,” I tell her. She’s not telling me anything I haven’t told myself. Having her lay it on me, emphasize just how much I’ve fucked up—there’s no coming back from this. I finally got Sloane back in my life and I threw it all away because of this fucken injury. I need a run.
My thoughts are once again interrupted by Summer. “Since you know you fucked up, what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it. I don’t even know how to get her to talk to me again,” I tell her, hearing the dejection in my own voice.
