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I held myself above her, gasping, my hands shaking, as she ran her fingers through my hair, soothing me as I came back down.
“We should be professionals,” I joked as I rolled to the side, keeping an arm around her waist.
“I know,” she said quietly, knowingly, as she pressed up against me.
She knew what I couldn’t say. She knew what my joke really meant. She knew as well as I did that what we’d just done had changed everything. There was no going back now. It would be impossible to put that particular genie back into the bottle.
We lay there quietly for a long time.
“Can you turn the light off?” she finally asked.
I reached up and pulled the light cord, blanketing the room in shadows.
“I need a new bed,” she said, shifting until she’d pushed me onto my back so she could rest her hands and chin on my chest. “This one is too loud.”
“It is?” I hadn’t noticed.
“The neighbors in the next building could probably hear it,” she joked, giving me a lopsided smile.
Her hair was a gorgeous mess, tangled around her face and falling into her eyes, so I reached up and brushed it back with my hand.
“Jesus, I’m lucky,” I murmured, staring at her in awe. “What are the chances of a girl from New York and a guy from Oregon meeting in Missouri?”
She beamed. “I guess we’re both lucky,” she replied, her fingers tracing small patterns on my skin.
I sighed with happiness as rain started falling, the familiar sound instantly relaxing me.
“Ugh. I hate the rain,” Sarai murmured, turning her head to look out the window.
“You do?” I asked in surprise, following her gaze. “I love it. It reminds me of home.”
“It makes the roads slick,” she muttered, turning her head back to look at me. “And it’s not like when it’s icy and people are extra careful.”
“Is that how your parents died?” I asked quietly.
Sarai stared into my eyes for a long moment. “Yes,” she said. “The driver that hit us hydroplaned and lost control.”
“God, I’m sorry.”
“It was an accident,” she continued with a small shake of her head. “A total accident and they were both gone.”
“You were in the car?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Her lips trembled. “And I walked away without a scratch.”
“Thank God,” I whispered, the thought of never having met her like a boulder in my gut.
“I wouldn’t have agreed with you back then,” she said with a sad smile.
“I know that feeling,” I replied, running my fingers up and down her back. “I lost my mom when I was young, too.”
“You did?” she asked in confusion. “But you talk about your parents all the time.”
“I was adopted when I was nine.”
“What?” She looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “You’ve never said anything about being adopted,” she said incredulously.
“It never came up…” My voice trailed off as I realized how lame that excuse was. “I don’t mention it much.”
“It’s not like we just met,” she said quietly. “I told you about my parents and that I lived with my aunt and uncle.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “It never even occurred to me. Here’s the thing…” I paused, trying to figure out how to explain my reasoning. “These are my parents, okay? Kate is my sister as much as Bram is my brother. It’s not ‘here’s my adoptive parents.’ It’s ‘here’s my parents.’ I don’t mention that I’m adopted, because they’re just my family. It isn’t any different than any other, biological family, and I don’t want people to view it that way.”
“But I’m not people,” she said softly.
“You’re right,” I murmured. “I guess not mentioning it is just habit at this point. I am sorry. It didn’t have anything to do with how I feel about you.”
“I understand,” she said, giving me a little half smile. “How did your first mom pass away?”
My first mom. Damn, I liked that. I didn’t tell many people that I’d been adopted, but it was common knowledge in our small hometown, and I couldn’t even count the times people had asked me about my “real” mom growing up. I’d hated it. Calling my biological mother my real mom was a slight to my adoptive mother. She was just as real as the woman who’d given birth to me and Bram.
Sarai watched me, waiting for my answer, and I suddenly felt as if my heart were going to beat out of my chest.
“A broken heart,” I answered, my voice grave. “At least that’s what Bram and I have always thought.”
Sarai made a small sound of sympathy and kissed my chest.
“This conversation has taken a surprisingly morbid turn,” I joked, uncomfortable with the emotion clogging my throat.
“Thanks for telling me about your mom,” she said simply, resting her chin on her hand.
“You know, Thanksgiving is next month,” I said, changing the subject to the first thing I could think of. I stared at all the details that made up her gorgeous face. The strong nose and dark eyebrows, the full bottom lip and cupid’s-bow top lip that were rosy from being pressed against my skin. The gap between her two front teeth that drove me crazy.
