“Are you okay?”
The woman looks from him to me and back again, no doubt assessing the situation. Does she suspect her boyfriend has been playing her like a chessboard? Well, checkmate, darling, because I’m about to end this game.
Behind a forced smile, I turn to her. “Here.” I hold the brand-new water bottle between us. “I’m sorry about last week.”
With an outstretched hand, she accepts it. “Thank you.” Her smile is gracious, beautiful. I want to knock in her perfect teeth. But she’s not who I’m angry with.
Careful not to make contact with Cam, I take a step to one side. But a strong hand grasps my wrist. When I yank, attempting to free myself from his hold, he towers over me, practically pinning me against the pillar.
“What are you doing, Joey?” His deep voice is crisp and urgent.
“Joey?” I must be hearing things, because I swear there’s a hint of wonder in the woman’s voice.
“Yes?” The word wedges in my throat, and my voice goes up an octave too high to sound sane.
“Thisis Joey?” she asks. Now I’m confused. Her tone is far too pleasant for what’s happening here. If I were her, I’d be wondering about the identity of the mystery woman my boyfriend is trying to kiss on the cheek.
“Oh my god!” She pushes him out of the way and nearly knocks me over with an awkward hug.
My arms are superglued to my sides, and my shoulders are basically stuffed into my ear canals. “What’s going on?”
Cam puts one hand on the woman’s arm, signaling her to step back.
“Joey,” he says, his voice so frustratingly soothing, “this is my sister, Claire. Claire,this is?—”
“Your Joey!” she cuts him off, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Claire?The woman he took a selfie with is?—
“Oh my god, your sister!” My body ignites in a flash fire of mortification.
I offer a redo introduction. This time I embrace her with genuine gratitude, sighing into her tiny frame. Thank fuck he isn’t just another fuckboy in my life.
When I face him, he asks, “Did you think—” He doesn’t finish the question, no doubt because the answer is written across my face.
Relief courses through my veins, but radical emotions are crawling their way to the surface. My cheeks are still flaming, and tears well in my eyes. I guess relief has to go somewhere.
“Oh, baby,” he says, pulling me into his chest and clinging to me like a lifeline.
I sniff back my tears as quietly as possible, then inhale deeply and relax against him when the familiar scent of his detergent hits me.
When I pull away, I turn to Claire. “I’m so sorry.” Wringing my hands, I let out a nervous laugh. Now that the confusion and fury have fled, I take her in more closely. How did I not notice the resemblance? Not only do they have the same hazel eyes and dark brown hair, but their smiles take shape in the same crescent curve.
“This is so embarrassing,” I accidentally say aloud.
“Forget it,” she assures me, embracing me again.Okay, I guess we have a hugger.
Not that I’m complaining. I’m back to imagining this classy hipster as my BFF.
“I’m so glad I’m finally meeting you after all this time!”
All this time?It’s only been a couple of weeks.
“My brother hasn’t shut up about you for likea y?—”
“That’s enough, sis.” He smacks a hand across her mouth.
Her eyes are full of spirit and secrets. What has he told her?
