Page 69 of Special Delivery

She turns to her dresser and murmurs, “The tentacle.”

A laugh bubbles out of me. “Want to hear a funny story?” She dips her head. “Come here.” She approaches the bed, and I pull her down to sit next to me. “I thought you were cute the first time we met.” Her gaze is suspicious, so I add, “That’s a lie. I thought you were fucking gorgeous.” A flush climbs up her chest. “But the tentacle scared me.”

She rolls her eyes, smacking my shoulder.

I chuckle. “I’m serious. I actually talked to my friends about it, and one of them convinced me it was a pretty frequent fantasy amongst women.”

Her mouth parts, mortification evident in her pretty blue eyes, and I realize my mistake. “You talked about it with your friends?” Her head drops to her hands.

“Yeah, but you have nothing to worry about. I haven’t told them it was you.”

“What difference does it make?”

“Well, you won’t have to feel awkward when you meet them.” The statement slips out and her head lifts, looking at me like I’m insane.

“Why would I be meeting your friends?”

I scramble to come up with an appropriate response before settling on, “Oh, you know, maybe at the wedding, or something.”

Her eyebrows relax, satisfied with my answer, even though it wasn’t the full truth. I wasn’t thinking about the upcoming wedding of both our parents when I mentioned her meeting my friends. I said it because it felt like something that’s bound to happen. Something that would be natural. Which never happened before. After high school, none of my girlfriends met my friends, because I had no serious girlfriends. It just wasn’t something I was thinking about. Still, with Paige, I like the idea.

I like the idea of us being more than future stepsibling fuck buddies or whatever we currently are. Even though I know it’s not something she wants, nor something I have to capacity for.

“Are you hungry? I could make us something to eat.”

Not at all. Yet, I answer, “Starving,” just to spend more time with her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Paige

I blink three times before finally opening my eyes. There’s no one next to me in bed, but I know I haven’t imagined last night.

Ryan and I had phone sex. Then he came over for real life sex. I made us frozen pizzas, and we chatted and laughed together. All those sentences make zero sense, yet they happened, and I had more fun than I had in ages. Once again, the sex was out of this world. The way his dirty words flip a switch inside me should be studied.

It was more than that, though. It was raw and honest. It was freeing. It reminded me of traveling, of experiencing new things, of enjoying life. What a sad thought. For over a year now, I’ve lived, but I haven’t felt alive.

I quickly water my plants before getting ready to leave the house. On my way to Jordan and Emma’s, I grab us each a coffee from the family-owned coffee shop downtown. Half an hour later, I stand in front of their door, wondering if I should have called before coming. Having a twin is a unique experience. We’ve shared so much while growing up, it’s sometimes hard to remember she’s her own, separate person. Still, I hope they’re home this Saturday morning.

I exhale a relieved breath when Jordan answers the door, dressed in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. She shoots me a puzzled look, so I quickly blurt out, “You were right.”

Before she’s able to respond, Emma pops her head behind her, her gaze connecting to the coffee cups in my hands. “Ooh, is that for me?”

“She brought presents,” Jordan says, motioning my head for me to get inside.

I settle on the couch, focusing on the warm paper cup in my hands, when Jordan clears her throat. “You were saying something about me being right?”

I huff out a laugh. “Of course you would focus on that.”

She lifts her hands in surrender, sitting down on the couch next to me. “That’s the only thing you said so far. There’s not much to focus on.”

Emma watches from the chair across from us with rapt attention, her gaze moving from one to the other.

I look down at my fidgeting hands. “You were right. About me avoiding things. Avoiding life.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but care to share how you got to that conclusion?”

“Jordan…” Emma sighs.