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I hurry to my room and take my medicine. I can already hear Robert in the bathroom turning on the shower.
A little while later he peeks his head in past my door. “I’m going to make some dinner. Any preferences?”
“Oh, could I have chicken and a baked potato?”
“Of course you may,” he says with a grin, giving me a sweeping bow before leaving the room. When I follow him downstairs a while later, I hear him pacing in the back garden while talking on the phone. His voice is tight with annoyance, but I can’t tell who he’s talking to. Presuming it’s something to do with work, I throw together some salad to go with the baked potatoes and chicken.
Sasha gets home just then, throwing her car keys down on the counter with a sigh and pulling up a stool.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, just some crappy source wasting my time trying to sell me a story about sweet fuck-all. I swear to God, I don’t care if they tell me bloody Keith Richards has died, I’m not getting out of bed on a Sunday for that job ever again.”
“Oh. Well, do you want some dinner? There’s plenty to go around,” I ask, knowing how food always cheers Sasha up.
“I’d love some. I was too hung over this morning to have breakfast. All I’ve had today was a black coffee with a ton of sugar to keep me going.”
“Hey! Who told you to take over?” Robert asks, interrupting us and coming back in from the garden. “Go and put your feet up on the couch, and I’ll bring the food into you.”
He escorts me out of the room and settles me in the living room.
“Oh, Rob,” Sasha calls from the kitchen. “Could we talk?” She sounds serious. I wonder if she’s going to tell him about being gay, seeing as I know now. Well, it’s not like he doesn’t know already, it’s just that she doesn’t know he knows – sort of.
“Sure, be right there,” he calls back. When he returns to the kitchen, one of them shuts the door tight so I can’t listen in to what they’re talking about.
Resigned to not knowing, I switch on the television and flick through the channels. Twenty minutes later they come in, with Robert carrying two plates, one for him and one for me. I look back and forth between them, but they’re acting completely normal, so I can’t tell what the conversation entailed. The only difference is that Robert’s smiling and looking at Sasha more affectionately than normal.
Sasha sits on an armchair, and Robert settles in beside me on the sofa. A reality show is playing as we quietly eat our food.
A few minutes into the programme, Robert nods to the television and asks, “Hey, Sash, what do you think of her?”
He’s referring to a dark-haired girl with an ample bosom. I gape at him, a forkful of chicken halfway to my mouth. I cannot believe he’s doing this. All I can hope for is that she did actually tell him she’s a lesbian when they had their private chat just now.
Sasha casts her narrowed eyes in his direction. “What are you on about, Rob?”
“What do you think of her? I think she’s hot.”
Her lips twitch. “Fuck off.”
“No, seriously! I want to know your opinion. She’s good-looking, but she’s wearing a bit too much pink for my tastes. Do you like women who wear pink, Sasha?”
“I know what you’re doing, you bastard. But if you must know, I’m not too pushed on what colours they wear.”
“Ah, I get it. You’re all about what’s underneath.” He gives her a wink.
She shakes her head and then laughs. “Yeah, maybe.”
I cough before addressing Sasha. “Did you, um, did you tell him?”
She smiles now. “Yeah. Not that he didn’t know already, of course. Nosy little bugger.” She picks up a salad leaf and flings it at Robert. It bounces off his shoulder and then sails to the floor.
“Hey, no food fights. I’ve already taken two showers today,” says Robert with humour.
Sasha raises an eyebrow. “Uh, do I want to know?”
“No,” I answer her vehemently. “No, you do not.”
Robert pinches me in the hip suggestively, and I give him a warning look. The last thing Sasha needs to hear about is our lusty afternoon spent in his bed.
“So, what about bodies, Sasha? Are you a boobs lady, or do you prefer a nice bottom?”
Oh, God, I can’t believe he’s still carrying on with this topic.
Sasha swallows some food, her expression turning steely and amused. She’s not going to let him embarrass her. “Preferably I’d like both to be nice. Why are you asking me all this?”
“Because I’m excited to be able to talk about girls with you! I’ve always wanted a brother, and now that I know you’re into women, you’re basically my brother without a cock.”
“Gee, thanks,” says Sasha, a sneaky gleam coming into her eye. “But anyway, I thought there was only one girl for you now.” She nods in my direction, and I pretend I’m absorbed in watching the television.
Robert’s hand slides across the sofa and possessively grips my thigh. “Yeah, that’s true. I’m a reformed character.” I squirm, wanting his touch but at the same time being shy to have him doing this in front of his sister.
Sasha points her fork at him. “You better be. If you give Lana even one bad day, you’ll have me to answer to, you hear?”
He leans over to plant a quick kiss on the curve of my jaw. “I won’t even give her a bad minute,” he says, his low voice hitting me right between my thighs. I can feel myself becoming attuned to him more and more.
Sasha gives him a considering look before turning her attention back to the television. “By the way,” she says, “Kara’s sent me several texts requesting I get you to call her, each one more desperate than the last.” Her expression shows her impatience for such melodrama.
Robert’s eyes momentarily light up with glee. “I know. That was her on the phone earlier.” He seems pleased with himself in some way, but I can’t exactly put my finger on what it is.
