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“There’s nothing to make up for,” I say, and I mean it.
We don’t talk about it, really. Her not being there when I got pregnant or in the years after. It’s been mentioned, sure, in dribs and drabs, but we’ve never had a real conversation about it, so I don’t think my sister knows I don’t blame her. She left for a reason; however bad I had it, Willow had it worse. She was the problem child long before I was. Her leaving was necessary. Her coming back wasn’t.
I can feel her disagreement like a tangible thing but she doesn’t push the matter. Giving my thigh a smack, she smacks her lips against my temple. “I think I’m gonna take off.”
I huff a disgruntled noise, hugging Willow’s arm to my chest. “Why?”
“I’m going out of town tomorrow.”
“Again?”
“Such is the life of a corporate girlie.” Pecking me again, she wriggles free from my grip. “You want me to leave the car? I can take a cab. Unless you’re planning on staying here tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at her smirk. “Quit it.”
“I give it a month before you break and move in.”
“Don’t you have to leave?”
Willow snickers as she gets to her feet. “I’ll drive.”
I stand too, ready to protest, but someone else beats me to it. “I can drive you.”
Head snapping towards the doorway, my sister’s smirk fades. “Hell no.”
Unfazed, James Morgan grins. “C’mon, William. Don’t be like that.”
William?
Willow’s cheeks flush and… what the fuck? Did I miss something? I feel like I missed something. They’re not looking at each other the way people who’ve only met once—I can’t specifically remember them meeting at Cass’ birthday but they must’ve; James is kind of a hard guy to miss—look at each other.
“Shut up,” my sister mumbles, fidgeting in a way that is so unfamiliar, I find it deeply concerning. Willow doesn’t fidget. She doesn'tmumble. Before this very moment, I didn’t think she was capable of any decibel below ‘ow! My eardrums!’ She rushes to grab her stuff and again,weirdbecause Willow doesn’t rush—she’s one of those people who kinda flits about in hyperspeed but gracefully so, making you feel like you’re moving in slow motion.
That excellent stink-eye of hers, however, is working perfectly fine, and she directs it at James before bidding me goodbye. Wrapping me in a fleeting but tight hug, she whispers, “You deserve this, Sunny D,” in my ear, retreating too quickly for me to reply.
It’s all so very odd, but not nearly as odd as the way James catches her when she tries to march past him. The smirk I’m starting to think is genetic goes nowhere but something in his eyes changes, softens, matches the gentle way he cups her elbow. I don’t hear what he murmurs but I do notice how Willow stiffens, how quickly she pulls away and hauls ass out of the room without replying, leaving so, so many questions in her absence.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” James retorts, eyes wide with innocence. He doesn’t give me the chance to push further, leaving the room and calling for me to follow. “Let’s go, Texas. Gotta get you back in my brother’s line of sight before he has an aneurysm.”
* * *
Cass’ hand rests on my thigh and I really need it to move.
Apparently, I’m processing everything slower than usual today. Emotions. Conversations.
Hormones.
Turns out, an entire day of watching your baby daddy be fucking elated at the prospect of becoming a father makes a girl really, really horny. It’s, like, pheromones, right? I’m carrying his kid so I’m extra attracted to him—it doesn’t actually mean anything
I’m only curled up on his lap like I belong here, like there’s nowhere else I’d rather be because his family is watching. My hands burrow beneath his shirt because we’re pretending to date, not because I like the feel of smooth skin beneath my palms. I’m really committing to the bit by resting my head in the crook of his neck, showing true dedication as I inhale deeply and wonder if anyone has bottledeau de Cassand put it on the market yet.
The entirely un-innocent thoughts in my head as he traces abstract shapes on my skin, though… Yeah. I can only blame myself for those.
“Tired?”
“Hm?” My head jerks up, narrowly avoiding a collision with Cass’ chin. “No. Just thinking.”
