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“Oh,” Gwen recoils, giving me a dubious look. “That’s a good one.” She rolls her eyes. “I actually expected something a little more believable from you. She doesn’t even look like you.”
“Half sisther,” Carly corrects with her finger in the air, and this time, Gwen’s lips part as she looks between us.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes!” I slip off my stool and rush to her, placing my hands on her arms. She makes no move to reciprocate, leaving them at her sides. “We have the same mother. Carly is the one you caught Scott with?” I ask, confused and absolutely destroyed by the possibility.
Gwen lets out a weighted sigh and nods, lowering her eyes to the floor and curling in on herself.
“Fucking hell, Gwen. I swear to Obi Wan I didn’t know.”
“Don’t try to distract me with your cute littleStar Warsreferences,” she squeaks out, biting her lip again, holding on to the tears brimming in her eyes, and I die a little inside. “Besides, Leia and Luke were brother and sister, so there goes your argument!” She turns toward the exit, but I’m not letting her get away that easy. I’m chasing her buns right out of this bar and into the street.
In a heroic display, I grab hold of her and turn her around in my arms.
“Luke didn’t know Leia was his sister! And while I envy his saber, and his flight skills are beyond my wildest ambitions, I’d never do something twisted with my sister!”
“I know that!” she shouts. “I just couldn’t think of anything clever to say in there.” She tilts her head toward the bar. “But she fucked my boyfriend behind my back, and now I find out she’s your sister? I don’t know what to do with this.”
“First of all,I’myour boyfriend,” I correct, pulling her close. “What happened with that chode shouldn’t matter to you anymore. But does it?” I raise a skeptical eyebrow at her.
“No,” she pouts. “You matter. But this is insane. To find out you’re family after what she did—”
“Gwen, baby, I don’t have the full story yet, but I don’t think she knew,” I try to explain. I know defending the woman Gwen considers her nemesis won’t help my case, but she’s still my sister, and she’s not a bad person.
“I can’t do this.” She shoves away with her hands up. “I can’t make you decide where your loyalties lie. She’s your sister.”
“And you’re my personal goddess whom I didn’t think would ever give me a shot.” I step back into her. “I’m crazy about you, Gwen. You’re my Arwyn!”
Her eyes go wide and soften a little at that proclamation. She has what she calls aserious couple crushon Aragorn and Arwyn.
She tries to shake it off. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks,” she says, her voice far too calm for the situation. “It’s better we found out now.”
“Oh no,” I scoff, trying to establish some dominance, but I sink to my knees, effectively negating the authority I was trying to exude. So I go with it. I wrap my arms around her jean-clad legs and beg. “We can get past this, baby,” I plead from dangerously close to the sweet land between her legs. I’m not above orally pleasuring her on the street to keep her here. Okay, wait no… fine, that would be weird, but I don’t care if people see me begging on my knees like the needy nerd I am.
“What are you doing? Get up!” she hisses, looking around nervously as tourists snap photos of us.
“Not until you tell me we can at least try to work this out,” I moan into her legs like a desperate fool, my glasses fogging over.
Gwen twists her body, looking around at our audience, and I chance a peek up to see war-torn emotions all over her face. She doesn’t know what to do here, which means I still have a chance.
“You’re the most amazing thing that’s come into my life sinceThe Empire Strikes Back, and I can’t let that go.”
“That’s your favorite movie in the franchise,” Gwen sighs, a mix of disbelief and understanding dancing in those sea-glass eyes.
“I’ll never watch it again if it means being with you,” I profess as onlookersaww.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I would never ask you to do something so asinine. Now get up!” Gwen orders between clenched teeth.
I finally oblige but don’t put any space between us, keeping hold of her waist.
“Now,” she continues, blowing out a frustrated breath, “I need a day or two to process this.”
My heart squeezes in agony, but I hold out hope. She hasn’t told me to go fuck myself. She just needs some time to come to terms.
“But this isn’t over?” I know how pathetic I sound. Sue me.
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head and wipes at her eyes. “I just need time to myself to think.”
