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“You haven’t been paying attention then. I don’t do that anymore. Back then, I was young and dumb.”
“You were young, but you were never dumb.” His eyes met mine, and it was as if he wanted me to challenge him, but I knew better.
Laurent held his finger up and went to the fridge, pulling out two containers, one filled with cut cheese and the other cut fruit. “If you tell me you suddenly don’t eat cheese, I’ll kick you out of my kitchen.”
“Everything in moderation.” I shrugged, even though that wasn’t my usual mantra these days. Not when the years were flying by. But I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and now that the delicious snack was staring at me, my stomach wouldn’t let me refuse if I tried.
I popped a piece of hard white cheese into my mouth. The sweet and nutty taste was like a dance party on my tongue. “Asiago?”
Laurent nodded over his wineglass. I gave a thumbs up and dove in for another piece. Then I told him about what happened with Parker. He listened intently, rarely interrupting me. It was something I always loved about Laurent. He listened to me.
“And now I don’t know. I feel bad I left things the way I did, but I got so angry.”
“She’s a kid,” Laurent said, and though I hated to admit that I was in fact fifteen years her senior, he was right. “She’s never experienced loss like you have. Her parents are still together, though if they’re actually happy is yet to be seen. It’s pretty obvious she’s been coddled by her mother.”
“Understatement of the year.”
“I don’t think she can fully understand what you went through, and trying to make her understand is pointless. It’ll lead to another fight. Sometimes it’s better to let things go.”
“She thinks I hate her because she was born.”
“Don’t you?” he asked with a smug look I wanted to smack off his face.
“No, yes, maybe a little, and I know how horrible that sounds. And she’s right. She didn’t ask to be born. This isn’t about her.”
“Exactly. She is the unfortunate bystander who is constantly stuck in the middle. Put yourself in her shoes for a second and replay your fight from her point of view, then tell me if you think she’s still in the wrong.”
“You were always really good at that,” I said, using his own words after taking his advice for a moment.
“And what’s that?”
“Making me see reason when I’m too far gone to see past my own emotions.”
“You can thank my six siblings for that. Being the oldest makes me the mediator. Sometimes flipping the script is the only thing that’ll work.”
“Then why is it pointless to try with Parker? If she understands where I’m coming from…”
“I’m not saying it won’t work. I’m saying she’s young and naïve. You can put yourself in someone else’s shoes because you’ve experienced life. It doesn’t seem like she’s experienced much other than fake niceties from people who are pretending to be someone they’re not. She’s a nice kid, but she has a lot of growing up to do.”
“Yet she’s still getting married before me.” The words were out before I could stop them.
“Oh, don’t be jealous. After all, you have the best fake fiancé a woman could have.”
I didn’t want to laugh, but the absurdity of the situation warranted it. The laugh slipped out effortlessly and then didn’t stop.
A month ago, my life was somewhat normal, if not lonely and boring, and now I had a fake fiancé, my sister who I thought I hated was now making an effort to be in my life, and I was eating cheese and drinking wine, and not once did I think how many days it would take off my life.
Who needed normal, anyway? Like perfect, it didn’t exist. Life was what you made of it, and I was done being scared of it. I popped another piece of cheese in my mouth, downed it with the full-bodied wine and closed my eyes, savoring everything about this moment.
What made me think I’d be able to sleep, knowing Phoebe was only a few doors down the hall? I tossed for the hundredth time, punching my pillow into a ball under my head as visions of our night together played on repeat. It had been one amazing night, but it also had been one nightmare of a morning. I tried to remind myself of that, but my body did not want to listen to reason.
My dick was hard, despite taking care of it only an hour ago. Apparently, it wanted more than my hand. It wanted Phoebe. Sweet, warm, daisy scented Phoebe.
The vision of her hand slipping beneath the bath water flashed in my mind. I didn’t just want her. It went beyond that. I needed her. I needed her so badly it physically hurt.
My bedroom door opened, and a sliver of moonlight illuminated Phoebe from behind. I was too stunned to speak, too taken by her beauty as she stood there in nothing more than one of my t-shirts.
Without a word, she eased the door shut and climbed in beside me. She curled into my side, and I looked down at her, still too shocked to form words. There was hopelessness in her blue eyes, a little sad, but determined. She shifted, her mouth finding mine. I closed my eyes, savoring her taste, wanting to roam my hands all over her body, but this wasn’t just sex. It never was with her.
