Page 75 of Every Time We Touch

For a few bars, we just listen. Then I lead her into it and something shifts—the way it always does when music enters a room.

Isabel Adler’s voice fills the studio and I look at Jen—at this woman who walked into my life as the absolute last person I should have wanted and proceeded, with breathtaking efficiency, to dismantle every sensible objection I had.

We’re barely dancing. It’s just the basic step, slow and imperfect and, somehow, so completely us. My chest is suddenly so full I can barely stand it.

“Hey,” I say softly.

Jen meets my eyes. “Hey.”

“I love you.” This dance, to this music, makes it impossible for me not to tell her exactly how I feel.

Jen goes completely still, staring at me as though it takes a few seconds for my words to fully register.

“I love you too,” she says.

The music keeps on playing. Jen’s hand is still in mine. My other hand still on her waist. Like we forgot to let go—or decided not to.

Outside, Los Angeles does what it always does—rushes and honks and blazes and glitters—and none of it reaches us in here. There is only this studio, this song, this gorgeous woman looking at me like I’m more than worth every single thing she’s had to put herself through to be with me.

I lean in and kiss her. Softly, at first. Then less so.

When we break from our kiss, Jen says, “How about you take me to a truly breathless place now?”

We can’t get out of the studio fast enough.

Chapter 39

Jen

Because there’s no family brunch at my mother’s, I’ve invited Heather to my house on Sunday. Clancy and I have said we love each other, yet my twin sister has barely spent any significant time with her.

I’m more nervous about this than Clancy, who says what would truly unsettle her is to be reintroduced to my entire family all at once in her new capacity as my girlfriend.

“If Heather’s anything like you,” Clancy says, “I’ll have her eating out of the palm of my hand in no time.” When she flashes me that million-dollar smile, I even believe her. Heather and I might be twins, but that doesn’t make us the same person.

When Heather arrives, she greets Clancy with an apprehensive kiss—but a kiss nonetheless—on the cheek.

“It’s funny,” Heather says. “You don’t look like the devil woman who came this close to blowing up my family.” She grins at Clancy. “Then again, I guess the devil never looks how you expect her to.”

Clancy bursts into laughter in response. “On the St James’s scale of drama, you’re much more an Austin than a Jen,” she says.

I didn’t invite my brother because he and Juan have a tendency to draw all the energy in a room toward them, which is fun most times, and has been convenient in the past, but it’s not what I’m after today. I just want my two favorite people in the world to get along.

We settle in the yard with mimosas and even though there’s tension in the air, my nerves quickly dissolve, as they always do when I’m in the same space as my sister. Ever since we were born, she’s had a natural calming effect on me. After either of us has had a particularly stressful day, a short phone call during which we just talk about this and that is usually enough to blow off the necessary steam.

“Have you spoken to Lauren?” I ask, because that’s the only way for me to get updates on my other sister’s state of mind—and her life in general—these days.

When I text Lauren, her reply is always the same: Are you still with her? Because my answer is always yes, she stops replying after that. When I call her, she doesn’t pick up.

Heather nods. “No change there, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah.” I take a sip.

“I was sitting at that table when Dad said, in front of all of us, how much he still liked you.” She looks over at Clancy. “Lauren can’t stomach the fact that you were already together then.” Heather sighs. “And I get it. It’s a hard thing to accept. Or even understand.”

“There’s no version of this story where nobody gets hurt,” Clancy says. “And for that, I am sorry.”

“I think what Lauren also finds pretty hard to deal with is how you can just go from one person to the other. From father to daughter, as though it’s nothing.”