“Ouch,” Tavey quips.
Her tone is light, but even I hear the sting in her voice.
Because she’s my sister and obviously, I love her.
“You know what I mean,” I grumble. “Romantic love is an illusion. A hormonal response brought about by the evolutionary drive to reproduce. The ability of a species to create lasting pair bonds is directly related to the fragility of that species’ young. Therefore—”
“Okay, Professor Ramsey. I get it. You don’t believe in romantic love as a philosophical concept. So what? You still have a physical body. You have all the hormones and biological reactions the rest of us have. So if you need me to put it in more scientific terms for you to accept it, I can. You feel the biological urge to create a pair bond with this woman.”
“That’s . . . I don’t . . . You can’t . . .” Once again, my heart is pounding and my thoughts can’t keep up with my sputtering words.
Tavey laughs.
“You are speechless.” She sounds fucking delighted. “The brilliant and enigmatic Dr. Ramsey is actually speechless.”
“Shut up,” I mutter.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to win an argument with you?”
“Fuck off.”
“My entire life. That’s how long. My entire damn life. This is the curse of having a brilliant older brother who goes off to college when he’s fifteen. You’ve been more knowledgeable and better educated than me since I was a single-celled organism. And I’ve found the one thing you don’t know more about than I do—your own emotions.”
“Seriously. Can you just fucking shut up?”
“Yes. I can.” She gives a luxuriant, indulgent sigh. “Yes. I can shut the fuck up. I can enter a Buddhist monastery and take a vow of silence if you want. Because I won an argument with you. I never have to speak again.”
“I didn’t know you were this petty.”
“My dear brother, this isn’t me being petty. This is me being delighted. And not just because I won. But because I’ve waited my whole life for someone to work their way beneath your crusty exterior.”
I have to endure several more minutes of gloating from Tavey before I finally get her off the phone.
My sister—the woman who has been tormenting me with practical jokes and pranks since she was five—has never been more annoying than she is right now.
I would like to think that this latest distraction is no worse than the time in college when she hacked my computer and translated every file into ancient Sumerian and wouldn’t undo the damage until I agreed to come home for winter break.
No matter what I tell myself, I know in my gut this is much worse than that.
Do I think she’s right?
No.
But I can’t dismiss the possibility that shecouldbe right.
Tavey is as smart as I am. Smarter, if I consider her aptitude for interpersonal interactions. Simply put, she gets people in a way I never have.
I can’t dismiss the possibility that she getsmein a way I never have. She may, in fact, understand me better than I understand myself.
In any other matter, the idea might be puzzling, but hardly alarming.
But when it comes to Holly?
The idea that I might be forming an emotional attachment to Holly is unacceptable.
Chapter 19
Holly
