“All of those stupid teachers were narrow-minded bigots,” Nick said. “Someone had to stand up for the gay community.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I can’t argue there.” I raised the shot glass to my lips and cleared my throat. “Okay, here we go. Never have I ever had sex in your bed.” I laughed when Nick flipped me off right before he took my shot of tequila.
“Is that how this is going to go?” he asked, wiping my lips. “Because two can play that game.” He refilled my glass and looked at me. “Never have I ever kissed a guy named Richard.”
“Cheap shot,” I said, but I took the drink anyway, wincing as the alcohol burned my throat. “Never have I ever streaked naked down a street.” I watched Nick resist the urge to break into laughter as he tossed his drink back.
“It was the summer of 2006,” he said. “Some people I went to school with dared me to do it right outside the dean’s office.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. “Did he catch you?”
“Oh yeah.” He smiled, recalling the memory. “He called the cops, but they let me off with a warning. Every professor hated me after that day.” He refilled both our glasses, and I leaned back against the couch, comfortable, the buzz rushing to my head.
“Never have I ever had sex with two women at once,” he said. I caught my breath and glared at him.
“That’s cheating,” I said. “You were there the night it happened.”
“I know.” He laughed and shrugged. “I can’t let you live that down, Sam. It’s too perfect.”
“I was really, really drunk, still a teenager, and Emily was just as drunk as I was,” I said.
“And that other girl? Lisa?”
“Okay, so Lisa had been hitting on Emily all night, and apparently Em thought a lesbian experience was something I could not pass up,” I muttered. “Does it still count if I barely remember it?”
“Sorry,” he said and punched me playfully in the shoulder. “You need to drink.”
“I hate you.” I threw back my shot, relieved that the alcohol was numbing my senses enough to keep drinking. Had I been soberer, I was confident I would have admitted defeat and declared it was time for bed. “Okay, Nick,” I said. “I’ll cut you a break since I’m feeling nice. So here it is—never have I ever fantasized about a person in this room.” I giggled, feeling pleased with myself. See, I could be nice. I wasn’t always mean! I watched Nick glance down at my empty shot glass. He had fallen silent, his face no longer sketched with amusement.
“Pass,” he said. I looked up, startled, nearly spilling the tequila all down the front of my blouse.
“What do you mean pass?” I asked. “You can’t pass. That’s not in the rules.”
“I said pass, Sam,” he muttered, and his tone of voice changed drastically, catching me off guard.
“But, Nick, you can’t just pa—”
“Fine.” He cut me off and refilled my glass before shooting it back and then slamming it back down on the table. I stared at him, my mouth gaping, trying to piece together whatever had just happened.
“Nick, I—”
“I’m gonna go to bed, okay?” he said, cutting me off. “But that means you have to go to bed, too, since my bed is the couch.”
“Oh.” I set down my glass and rose from the sofa, feeling dizzy with confusion and foggy from the aftermath of a stupid drinking game. “I’m sorry, Nick, I—”
“Bed,” Nick said and placed his hands on my shoulders. He was smiling again, but it was forced. “Good night.”
Nick
I woke the next morning to excruciating pain in my lower back and the bizarre feeling of somebody's eyes watching me. I listened to the quiet of the house with my eyes still closed, wondering if I was awake yet. When I opened my eyes a few moments later, someone was hovering over me, eye to eye, nose to nose, staring me down.
“Jesus!” I cried, my entire body jerking in a surprised twitch. “Piper. You scared me.”
“Sorry, Uncle Nick,” she said. “What's for breakfast?”
“Breakfast?” I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, sore and stiff from the lumpy couch cushions that had dug into me all night long. “Piper, don't you go to school or something?”
She shrugged. “I did at home.”
“Of course you did.” I kicked off the blanket. How had I not thought of that already? She'd been in school back in Miami. Now it was up to Sam or me to transfer her to a school in Seattle—something neither of us had given any thought to. Fuck, I was terrible at this.
“Do I have to go to school here, too?” Piper asked, following me into the kitchen. “Because that’s lame.”
“Sorry, kiddo,” I said. “I think it’s the law.” I watched her take a seat at the dining table, her slim little legs pumping back and forth as she waited patiently for me to pour her some cereal.
“Oh, there's someone upstairs,” she said after a moment. “A girl. She said her name is Lindsay.”
Sam
I hadn't even drunk much the night before, but my head was screaming in pain when I opened my eyes into the morning light.
“Hi,” someone said. “Who the fuck are you?”
I lifted my head from Nick's pillow, my eyes still fuzzy from sleep. I stared at the blond-haired woman standing in the doorway, wondering—no, hoping—that I was dreaming. I hesitated for a moment, praying that if I waited long enough the figure in front of me would sizzle away. It didn’t.
“I'm, uh, Sam,” I said after a moment. My voice was scratchy like I was coming down with a nasty cold. “Who are you?”
“Hi, Sam,” the blonde said. She had both hands perched on her hips now, head tilted to the side as she stared at me with distaste. “Can I ask what the fuck you’re doing in my boyfriend's bed?”
“Boyfriend?” I sat up, my face flushing red as I made a clumsy attempt to cover my breasts with the sheet. “I'm sorry,” I said. “Nick is your boyfriend?”
“Um, yeah.” The girl frowned. “Are you fucking him?”
“What? I—oh, no. Not even a little bit. No, we're just friends.” Fumbling for a better cover, I yanked the sheet around my near-naked body, flushing hot with embarrassment. “I’m not even sure you could say that we’re friends. I didn't know he had a girlfriend. I'm sorry. This must look really bad.” Before I could make an even bigger fool of myself, Nick appeared behind the blond-haired woman, his hazel eyes round and wide and his lips pinched in an O of horror as he peered over the back of the girl’s head, his eyes landing on me.
“Babe!” he said to the girl, and I watched as he pulled her back, turned her around, and gave her an exaggerated kiss on the lips. Still suffering with heat in my cheeks, I pulled the sheet tighter, wondering if I had time to run to the bathroom before this oddly horrifying conversation continued.
“I think you have some explaining to do,” the blond-haired person said. She pointed back at me, her manicured nails accusing. “What in the hell is that?”
“That would be a naked woman in my bed,” Nick said. He almost looked amused.
“I’m not completely naked,” I said. “I’m just not—covered well.” I surveyed Nick’s “Babe,” taking note of her obvious attributes. “Nothing happened,” I promised. I couldn't help but notice that Nick barely glanced at me as I tried to explain myself, and that made me irritated. “We just played a drinking game, and I passed out.”
“Naked?” the girl asked, her thin-plucked eyebrows shooting straight up.
“I’m not naked!” I cried. Trying to prove a point, I kicked the sheet off and stood up, revealing a tiny pair of booty shorts and a white tank top. “See?”
“Sam's not lying, Lindsay,” Nick said. “I'm sorry I didn't call you last night when we got in. It's been a hectic week.” I watched him run his hands over the girl’s arms, waist, and to her butt cheeks, squeezing firmly. I made a dry-heaving noise, but both Nick and the girl ignored me.
“I guess I don't understand.” Lindsay narrowed her eyes at Nick.
“You fly to Miami a few days ago for your sister’s funeral, and you come back with a naked woman and a child!”
“I’m not nak—”
“Sam, please.” Nick raised a finger at me, cutting me off, and I had the overwhelming desire to kick him below the belt.
“Okay—” I murmured, glancing longingly toward the bathroom. “I'm just gonna let you guys hash this out.” I was almost safely in the bathroom when Lindsay stepped in front of me.
“Not so fast,” she said, and I froze. “I recognize you. You're the girl in the picture.”
“What picture?” I frowned, trying to sort out what this woman was talking about.
“The one hanging in Nick's hallway,” Lindsay said. Still glaring at me, she walked away and came back after a moment, holding a photo frame, which she handed to me. “That is you, isn't it?” she asked.
I looked down, my eyes falling on the photo of Nick, Emily, and me as kids. We were standing on the beach, backs facing the ocean, grinning with arms around one another as the hot Miami sun cast rays of light onto our skin.
“Yeah,” I said, letting out my breath. I let my finger trail over the glass frame, feeling another pang of sadness for Emily. “That is me,” I said. Focusing on Nick, I added. “And Nick and Em. I didn't know you had this picture.”
Ignoring me, Nick turned back toward Lindsay, his eyes pleading. “Sam's my friend, Linds,” he said. “That's it. Come downstairs, and I'll explain everything. Then you can meet Piper, my niece, officially.”
“It was nice to meet you,” I said meekly. “Sorry for the confusion.” Still sneering, Lindsay followed Nick out of the bedroom, shutting the door unnecessarily hard behind her. I groaned and muffled my face into the pillow, wanting to scream. Less than twenty-four hours in Seattle, and shit was hitting the fan already.
Nick
Two hours later, I watched out the window as Lindsay walked back to her car, slender hips sashaying back and forth. She turned and blew me a kiss, which I pretended to catch and slip into my pocket. It was stupid, I knew, but if I didn't do it, then cries of why don't you love me anymore? would haunt my voicemail and text messages for the next three days.
Sighing, I rubbed my face and went back into the kitchen, winking at Piper, who was settled in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn and a can of soda. It wasn’t yet noon, and the kid had gone through most of the food in the house—at least, what little there had been. I had no idea where she put it all, but if it kept her entertained, I was okay with it.
“Thanks a lot, asshole.” Standing near the stove, Sam threw the pepper shaker at me. She was glowering, her eyes shooting daggers in my direction. “Thanks for warning me that you had a girlfriend.”
“Lindsay is harmless.” I picked the pepper shaker up off the floor and set it on the table. “She's all bark and no bite. Don't worry about it.”
“She found me naked in your bed,” Sam snapped. She took a drink of her juice, the glass quivering in her hand. I kept my eye on it, mentally preparing myself in case she threw that at me, too.
“Yeah,” I said. “But it doesn't matter because you were in there alone while you were naked.”
“I don't think your girlfriend cares.” She set down her glass of juice, looking ready to punch me in the face. “That was so humiliating. How could you not tell me anything?”
“We've been on the rocks,” I admitted. “The last I knew she was hardly talking to me. I guess I had more important things to worry about.” I took a seat at the dining table, wishing the headache would fade. “Speaking of which, did you know that Piper probably needs to be in school?”
“School?” she echoed. “Yeah, I remember Emily talking about something like that back in Miami. I think I even picked her up once or twice.”
Sipping at an abandoned bottle of water, I reached for my cell phone. “Who would I call?” I asked. “What would school be listed under if I did a Google search?”
“Hell if I know,” Sam said. “School?” I looked back down at my cell phone and typed schools in Seattle into the search engine.
“I don’t know which school is which,” I said, squinting at the screen. “There’s a few high schools and middle schools—which one do I need?”
“Piper?” Sam called. “What grade are you in?”
“Second!” Piper answered. “Duh.”
I laughed, wondering how my sister would have reacted to our escapade this morning. Knowing Emily, she would have stood back and watched us, a sly grin on her face as she waited patiently for us to figure it out. I felt like an idiot—I knew nothing about kids, and apparently neither did Sam. Piper, I knew, was in for an exciting time.
“Okay, this is fine,” Sam said as if trying to convince herself. She ran her fingers through her mop of hair and shrugged. “I have no car, or I'd take her out to find a school. Where is yours?”
“Where is my what?” I asked.
“Your car,” she said. “For, you know, driving.”
“Oh. Yeah. I don't have one of those.” I studied my fingernails, hoping she wouldn't throw something else at me. I assumed that after taking an Uber home from the airport last night, she would have figured as much. Much like Miami, public transportation was both easier and cheaper.
“This is fabulous,” Sam said. “Neither of us have cars.” She sat down at the table across from me, looking distraught.
“I’m sorry, Sam, I didn’t expect to come home with a child and a wife.”
“I’m not your wife, Nick.”
“It was just an example. Relax.”
“Okay.” Sam took a deep breath, rubbing her hands over her face in agitation. "How in the hell am I supposed to finish school and find a job without a car?”
“The bus?” I suggested. She glared at me, green eyes narrowing. She looked pissed, but I couldn't blame her.
“Okay, first things first,” she said, taking control. “We find Piper a school and get her registered. Then I look for a job and look into college classes for credit.” She paused and looked at me. “Where does your income come from?”
“I'm a model,” I said. “You know that.”
“So—” She hesitated as if thinking hard about it. “Do you think you can get a real job?”
“That is a real job, Sam.” Flustered, I frowned at her. “Just because I'm not some prissy ER nurse doesn't mean that my job is any less important.”
“Whatever,” she said. “How much do you make?”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “Depends on the week.”
“Fuck my life.” She let her head fall onto the table. “Why did I agree to this?” There was a moment of silence as I thought about her words. I thought of Emily, my sweet, kind twin sister—and then I thought of Piper, and what she must be feeling right now. If we thought we had it bad, we had no idea.
“You agreed because you know that Emily would have done it for you,” I said, reaching my hand across the tabletop to take Sam's fingers in mine. “And because Piper is the closest thing to a child you or I have ever had.” She lifted her head then, her face tear-stained, and forced a smile for me.
“You're right,” she said. “I'm sorry. I'm just overwhelmed. We can do this, right?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “We can.” I wasn't sure why the image of Sam crying made my heart flutter unnaturally, but I didn't care to look too far into it. I could be a sensitive guy, too.
“Am I going to school?” a small voice asked.
I looked over at Piper standing in the kitchen doorway. She was smiling, which was a good sign.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Go get dressed, and we'll find a good place to get you registered.” I watched her run back up the stairs, carrying that ragged bear with her. Only a child of my overachieving sister Emily could be that excited about education. See, we could do this. I could do it. Both of us, together, could do it.
Sam
Okay, this would work. Hopefully. I figured that if there were no graffiti on the walls, blood on the floor, or screami
ng students racing up and down the hallways, the school we'd come across for Piper would be just fine. Or so I hoped. Not that I had any idea one way or the other.
“Oakwood is a very prestigious school,” the principal, Lucy Wittman, told Nick and me as we walked the hallways on tour. “We were number four in the top ten best grade schools in the state.”
“Number four?” I asked. “Are the first three located in Seattle as well? Maybe we’ll try there first.” I’d meant it as a joke, but the sneer on Mrs. Wittman’s face was evident.
“No,” she said stiffly. She glanced back at us, her eyes resting on Nick. Her scowl melted into a smile for him, which annoyed the hell out of me.
“Don’t mind Sam,” Nick said to the principal. “She thinks she’s funnier than she is.”
“Thanks, Nick,” I snapped, fighting the urge to strangle him. I was a professional woman; years of strenuous college classes and job interviews had taught me to be. But being around Nick brought out everything else in me that others rarely saw—and it wasn’t necessarily a good side.
“Thank you for letting Piper in so late in the season,” I said as we walked. “She’s had a rough go of it, that kid. Hopefully, she’ll make friends.”
“I believe she will,” Mrs. Wittman said. “We take diligent care of our students here.” She paused, looking suddenly flustered, and I watched in amazement as the woman’s skin tone flushed a bright red color. “Don't tell anyone,” she murmured, looking straight at Nick, “but, Mr. Barlow, I am a huge fan of your work.”
“Really?” he said, sounding shocked. I rolled my eyes. He loved this—I knew it. “I'm flattered,” he said, shooting the woman his best look of seduction. “It's always a pleasure to meet a fan.”
“Gag me,” I muttered, ignoring the pointed glare that Nick shot in my direction. “What time is school over?”
“Oh, um, three o’clock,” Mrs. Wittman replied. “There's a school bus that picks up and drops off near your home, Mr. Barlow. Don't worry; we'll take fantastic care of Piper.”
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