We’re fucked.
Ciara breaks away from me, grabbing the towel and covering herself the best way she can.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I yell, grabbing the sheet from the bed and wrapping myself in it.
“Weren’t Patrick’s sisters off limits for all of us?” he says, provoking me, finally taking his hands away from his eyes.
I huff, looking for clean clothes in the closet.
“It’s none of your business.”
“When Patrick finds out, it’s going to be all of our business, friend. You’re going to need someone to save you.”
“Don’t talk shit. Patrick will never know.”
A silence falls over the room. It’s asphyxiating and clumsy. Jay looks at me and then at Ciara before leaving the room and going downstairs.
I turn to Ciara who is standing in the same position I left her in and is now looking downwards.
“Ciara…” I go to her timidly. I know I’ve just uttered a new record breaker on my own bullshit Richter scale.
“I understand. It was just a crazy night.”
She gets dressed quickly and I sit there silently like an idiot because honestly, I don’t know what to say. Was it just a night? We’ve never talked about anything else, like our futures. She is the one who said she wanted to take care of me for the night, and I let her.
Why do I see disappointment on her face now? Why do I feel like shit?
“I don’t want you to think that this was a little adventure for me, that’s not how this is,” I try to remedy the situation. “It’s just complicated.”
“What is? Telling Patrick that you’ve just fucked his little sister?”
“Ciara—”
“What, that’s not it? Isn’t that what just happened here?”
I shake my head. “Do you know why I haven’t had anyone in all these years? Because my life is a mess. Because I’m full of responsibility and I have to take care of everyone else, do you understand that? I have to… It’s what I know how to do. The only thing I know how to do is to take care of other people.”
“And who takes care of you, huh?”
Her words dig a hole in my heart.
I once again rest my forehead on hers and close my eyes. I feel her breath directly on my lips, an intense heat that turns me on completely.
She goes to touch me and I draw back.
“I’m sorry… I can’t do it.”
“Can’t do what?”
“This…Us.”
She steps away, determined to turn her back to me and leave. I need to bury this crazy feeling six feet under and stop hurting myself.
“It’s not your fault,” I call after her. “It’s me… I’m not right.”
“Not right for me?”
“For anyone, Ciara. I’m no good for anyone, especially you.”
