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Chapter17
Bella
“Reagan!” I shout throwing my arms around my little sister. Hey, she was born four minutes after me and that counts.
“Bella!” She hugs me tightly and lets go of her suitcase, something that clearly shows she’s not from New York.
“Reagan! You can’t just let go of things here!” I scold my sister and grab her bag from her.
“Even outsidethisbuilding? It looks like a fancy hotel,” she says wide eyed.
“Come on.” I shake my head. Saying hello to Norman the doorman, yes that’s really his name, we head inside. It is still snowing and I want Reagan to put her stuff down before we go to see the city sights.
“Is your girlfriend here?” she whispers in the elevator.
“Yes, she’s looking forward to meeting you.” I smile. Dylan and I had discussed at minimum that my sister wouldn’t know the truth, but she’d think the charade just like everyone else. After all, it’s not like I can hide where I am living.
“Well, now I’m nervous. I’ve never met anyone you’ve dated before!” she exclaims. I’m about to say that’s not true when I think hard about it. Everyone I had dated had been here in New York, and none of them had ever been brought home. I hadn’t dated much in high school but that’s to be expected when you’re a lesbian in a small town.
“Just be yourself, she’s very nice. But I should mention that she’s a bit older than me.”
“Okay? How old?” Reagan waits and I avoid eye contact.
“In her 40s,” I mumble and Reagan’s face lets me know exactly what she’s thinking.
“Oh,” is all she says.
“Yeah, but don’t judge her based on that. I really like her,” I admit.
“Got it. But thanks for the heads up so I didn’t say anything stupid.” She laughs.
“Here we are.” I open the door to the apartment, rolling in her suitcase and place it by the front door. I kick off my boots and she does the same.
“Dylan? We’re back!” I call out.
“Oh hey!” Dylan pops out of the bedroom looking the most casual I’ve ever seen her before. She’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looks like something out of the 90s with her red and black checkered flannel.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” they both say in unison and then laugh.
“I can’t believe you two are twins.”
“Yeah, we never looked alike that always confuses people,” I add.
“What did you guys plan to do today?” Dylan asks with a smile.
“I thought I’d take her to lunch that place we first met and then walk around to see the tree at Rockefeller Center and maybe Central Park if we’re feeling adventurous,” I explain. I knew Reagan wants to see the city since she’s never been so I will have to brave the tourist sites for my sister.
“Well, I hope you have fun. I’m having lunch with Lucy so I’ll be gone most of the day.” Dylan kisses me on the cheek, says goodbye to Reagan, and heads out the front door.
“Why don’t you change and then we can go?”
“Okay, yes I want to get out of these smelly plane clothes,” she says with a sigh. I show her to my room that I’ve ironically only slept in twice. She puts her suitcase on the ground and then paws through looking for clothes. I head to the bedroom to grab my purse and wallet when I see Dylan’s left out some cash under my wallet.
I pause. I know she means well, but ever since we started having sex, things have been different. Sure, in a lot of ways Dylan and I are falling for each other and we seem to be on the same page. But then something like this happens where it’s clear she still wants to pay me. But isn’t being paid while we were having sex just making me into a hooker? I hate to cross that line, for me it was a boundary I never intended to cross. So I leave the money on her nightstand and I wait for Reagan in the living room. I will use my own money, from my savings, to pay for today.
“Ready!” Reagan says, changed into a more her outfit. Out were the leggings and in were a pair of ripped jeans, a black sweater, and her black motorcycle jacket. Most of her tattoos are covered but some are able to peek out the holes of her jeans and the new ones on her neck and hands.
“Did Mom and Dad freak out when you came home with those?” I ask, pointing to her new ink. She still lives with our parents and although she is raising her daughter on her own, you’d think she is still a child by the way our parents act.
