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I nod, feeling like I’m five again and my big brother is the only thing standing between me and the darkness.
“On one condition,” I whisper.
“Name it.”
“You’ll stop pretending around me. I see right through your bullshit act. You’re not happy, Rhett. I might be your little sister, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you.”
He presses kiss to my forehead and whispers, “Fuck, you’ve grown up too fast.”
~
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Rhett asks, when we’re lying on the couch watching Twilight. He called Carter and told him he wouldn’t be going on that business trip. He then put on Twilight for us to watch. That’s the first thing he’s doing to remind me of what I used to love. It also reminds me
“I thought it didn’t matter anymore. It was in the past, and I wanted to leave it there like it was just another bad day. When I found out that it happened because of what you all did, it brought the memories back. I knew you wouldn’t understand why I was reacting like a bitch, because of the list, so I thought it would be better to tell you. I think it was a mistake to tell Logan, though.”
I can feel him looking at me, but I keep my eyes on the TV.
“Why? What did he do when you told him?”
“I told him I needed time, that the worst thing to happen to me was because of something the best thing to happen to me did. I just needed time, so I could separate the two. I know it doesn’t make any sense. Obviously, it didn’t make a lick of sense to him, because he said he’d never forgive himself and then he left.”
“If he feels half as bad as I do, then it’s going to take him some time to process what you told him,” Rhett says, as he starts to play with my hair. It’s another thing he always did when I crawled into bed with him. He used to play with my hair until I fell asleep. “From a guys’ point of view, he slept with the woman who’s responsible for what happened to you. That’s some fucked up shit to deal with.”
“I know,” I whisper, hating the thought that Logan had sex with Josie. “I think that’s what bothers me most. I personally know one of the girls he’s slept with. I keep picturing them together, and it’s awful.”
“You need to stop picturing them together. You’re going to drive yourself crazy. When the two of you get past this, then whoever he’s been with in the past doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that will matter is the present and that he’s with you. Give the guy a chance. He loves you and honestly we could all see it a mile away. You’re meant to be together. I’m surprised you’ve held out this long. And I have to say, this is not a conversation I thought I’d ever have with my baby sister. I’m not cut out for this shit.”
I chuckle, poking him in the ribs. “You’re doing pretty fine.” Needing to change the subject I ask, “What happened to Evie? Did she move here with you guys?”
Rhett stiffens, and I look up at his face. There’s a frown, and he looks upset all over again. Seems I just found the source of his pain.
“I haven’t spoken to her in a while. Last time I heard, she was up in Chicago.”
“Why? What happened? The two of you were pretty close.”
“I fucked up,” he whispers, and I can hear the regret. “Her last words to me were, it doesn’t make sense that I sleep with women who don’t care about me, but the one woman who loves me, I won’t touch.”
“Ouch,” I whisper.
“I know you agree with her. Don’t hold back now.”
I shake my head, feeling sorry for him. “Let your little sister give you some solid advice. Give the girl a chance. She loves you and honestly, any idiot could see that you love her. You’re meant to be together, so go to her and beg her forgiveness for being such an idiot.”
Rhett chuckles and squeezes me. “Wiseass.”
~
Rhett ended up spending three days with me, instead of going on his business trip.
I wake to the smell of burned bacon, and for a split-second, I’m confused, until I realize that I’m in Rhett’s guest bedroom.
I quickly brush my teeth and rush through the rest of my morning routine. Dressing in a comfortable pair of slacks and baggy t-shirt, I walk to the kitchen.
Rhett’s on a chair, busy disabling the fire alarm. I lean against the counter, thinking this moment is priceless. He’s never been able to master the art of cooking.
He doesn’t notice me until he’s done making scrambled eggs.
“Hey, you’re up,” he says, smiling proudly at the pan filled with enough eggs to feed a small country. “I made breakfast.”
