by Portia Moore
“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly.
I want to tell him no and ask him to leave, just how he did me that night, but I don’t. Instead I nod. “Give me a minute.”
I walk over to the stoner kid and nudge him. “Hey, we’re about to close, okay?”
He checks the time on his laptop with an irritated glare. “I have fifteen minutes.” He puts his head back down.
I sigh. “I’ll give you a bag of cookies and a free coffee if you head out now.”
He gathers his things as I fix his bag of cookies, and he asks for a hot chocolate instead of a coffee. Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with Will and the butterflies in my stomach. I let down the curtains in the front of the shop and flip the open sign to closed. He’s sitting at one of the coffee tables, and I sit in the chair across from him.
“I wanted to apologize to you,” he says, his blue eyes on mine. They look sad and apologetic.
I forgive him just from that look, but I let him finish.
“I-I—you have to understand that what happened was wrong.” His voice sounds stern but compassionate.
I fold my arms and feel myself frown.
“It was, Lisa,” he says again.
“It didn’t feel wrong until you left me alone and told me to get out,” I spit at him.
He looks surprised, and I’m surprised when I see the hint of a grin.
“It’s not funny,” I say angrily.
“I’m not laughing at the situation obviously. I-it’s just—you’re sort of a firecracker,” he says, looking a bit stunned but amused at the same time.
I roll my eyes. “Did you come here to tell me how sorry you are and how it can never ever happen again?”
He looks down guiltily, and I let out a frustrated sigh. Because of course I could have guessed he would say that. Just being near him makes me think of that night and makes me a different kind of frustrated.
“It can’t. We—you know why,” he says as if it’s obvious.
My head shoots up, and I glare at him. “Just tell me, how did you feel? Setting aside everything your mind is telling you, how did you feel?” I don’t want to mention his family.
He lets out a frustrated groan and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter! We can’t do what you’re asking me to.”
I’m quiet and feel tears welling in my eyes. His expression softens, and when it does, I clear my throat. “What do you think I’m asking?”
He runs his hands across his face.
“It’s not illegal. I’m eighteen. I’ll be nineteen in six months,” I say desperately.
“Lisa, I’m married. It doesn’t matter if you’re legal. If anyone found out, my family would be destroyed. Your reputation would be shredded. This wouldn’t be good for either of us,” he says frantically.
I know he’s right. I’m not stupid or that immature, but I am selfish. That’s why I say, “What if no one found out?”
I beg his eyes to meet mine. When they do, I see they’re conflicted but not dead, not stubborn, and I know there’s a chance.
“Someone always finds out when things like this happen,” he says quietly.
“I would never say anything. I don’t want to break up your family.” I start to add that Chris is my best friend and I’d never want to hurt him, but I think that’d only hurt my case. “No one has ever made me feel the way you did, Will. The way I feel now just sitting across from you.” I soften my expression. “Please just tell me. How do you feel being here with me?”
He closes his eyes and sighs. He gets up from the chair and walks toward the door. Each step feels like a stomp on my heart. I feel tears streaming from my eyes, and I whimper.
Then he stops. “Alive.”
Even though he’s not facing me, my heart starts again.
I HAVE NEVER felt so conflicted. Waking up in Will’s arms feels like heaven. We fit as if we were made for each other. I take in his scent, his touch, his strong arms wrapped around my nude body. Last night was incredible. A night that seemed impossible, or at the very least distant or imagined, came true. I feel as though I’m on a cloud.
When there’s a loud banging on the door, I’m in hell—instantly in hell! We both jump up, our eyes wide, and we each know what the other is thinking—is it Gia? I don’t even know if Gia has a key. There’s another knock. I pick up my clothes, run to the bathroom then the guest room, and throw them on as fast as I can.
“One minute,” Will yells at the loud knocker.
I’m sure he’s throwing on his clothes. I hear the door open, and I pray to God it’s anyone but Gia. I can’t see her now, with Will’s scent all over me, after what we just did. I’m a terrible liar—I’d blurt it out. Gia’s smart. She’d figure it out just from the look of us.
“What took so long?”
My heart slows down when I hear Zach’s voice.
“You leave in the middle of the night with some stranger, then you have the nerve to expect immediate service in someone else’s house you’re staying in for free?” Will asks sarcastically.
“Yeah, that’s about the gist,” Zach says arrogantly. “Where’s the brat? I know she’s not still asleep. She’s an early bird, and she didn’t drink as much as I did.”
“She’s still sleeping, I think,” Will says.
“And no breakfast? God, I thought she’d be whipping up a farm,” he says.
I glance at myself in the mirror. My skin’s flushed, and I have on last night’s clothes. It doesn’t look suspicious though since I just got up from a hangover, right? To look any way else would be suspicious. I finally work up the nerve to leave the guest room.
Zach’s sitting on the couch, looking as though he didn’t have one drink. He’s alert, pretty as usual, with a freshly showered look. He grins at me. “You look like you’ve been fucked three ways from sundown.”
Will’s cheeks turn red. “Language,” Will says authoritatively as though he’s in teacher mode.
“You’re not that much older than us, dude. Relax,” Zach says.
When my eyes meet Will’s, I shoot him a “please be nice” look, and he sighs with a small grin.
“Aren’t you a teacher? Shouldn’t you be in someone’s classroom?” Zach asks.
Our eyes shoot to the clock. Oh my gosh, it’s eleven thirty.
“Shit!” he says, running to his bedroom.
Zach laughs. “Did he get drunk last night too?”
Zach turns on the TV and puts his feet on the coffee table. I sit next to him, in the same spot where Will and I just shared the best night of our lives, and grin. Zach looks at me suspiciously.
“You seem to be in a pretty good mood for someone who’s hungover.” He nudges me in the side, and I laugh.
When he tickles me, I can’t stop laughing, and he’s on top of me.
“I can’t breathe,” I say between giggles.
“What the hell are you doing?” Will’s voice booms, and the tickling and laughing immediately stops.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Zach asks, irritated.
“She was telling you to stop,” Will says sharply, approaching us.
Zach stands. I jump up and get between them.
“We were just playing. He was tickling me,” I say. “It was nothing.”
“I’d hate to kick this guy’s ass in his own house,” Zach says cockily.
Will laughs at him. They’re about the same height. Will has two inches on Zach, but I’ve seen Zach fight his brothers, and he probably fights more frequently than Will has in his life. But Will’s build is bigger. I’m not sure who would take who in a fight, but I sure don’t want to find out.
“Aren’t you running late?” I say to Will giving him a “you’re acting really weird right now” look.
His anger drops several notches, though it lingers in his expression. He tosses me his keys. “Lock up when you guys leave and call your sister. She’s probably worried.”
After Will leaves, Zach steps in front of me, his arms folded.
“You’re doing your sister’s boyfriend,” he says as if he just figured out a big mystery, and I feel my stomach drop.
I’M A TERRIBLE liar and, I’ve found out, a terrible denier. Zach pesters me the whole day, continuously asking me if I’m doing Will while we sightsee and stroll through downtown Chicago. After four hours of him not letting up, as we’re sitting by the lakefront, I admit it.
“It just happened last night. I feel terrible,” I say, but I don’t.
I don’t feel terrible. I feel terrible about Gia finding out—that’s actually terrifying—but after what happened between Will and me, I don’t feel guilty. I’m too happy to feel anything else. The knot that’s been in my stomach has finally untied. I feel as if I’m floating, and I know the other shoe is going to drop. But right now, I want to just enjoy this feeling, though I don’t want to sound like a terrible person and say it out loud.
Zach shakes his head and laughs and laughs. I thought he’d be upset or disapproving, but he isn’t. “You don’t feel terrible. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you.”
I cover my face, embarrassed. “I am. God, I am, and that feels terrible.” I can’t stop myself from smiling.
“So what happens now? Are you two going to sneak around, is he going to break things off with your sis, or are you going to pretend it never happened?”
I feel my happy bubble starting to burst. None of those options sound good at all. I feel my face fall.
“I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but you got to think about these things. Not only is she your sister, but you actually like her. I’d fuck one of my brothers’ girlfriends in a heartbeat, but I can’t stand them. I couldn’t care less if they stopped talking to me. Plus you live with her. Can you imagine going back to your mom’s place?”
I shoot him disbelieving glare.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Don’t think about it. Enjoy the bubble,” he says, patting my back.
But it’s too late. Zach’s burst it.
WE EAT AT a pizza place near Will’s house—well, Zach eats. My stomach’s too queasy for me to eat anything. Each hour that passes reminds me that soon I’ll have to face Gia, and I don’t know what I’ll do or say. Will one look at me tell her everything? Zach tells me to just play it cool and keep my mouth shut until I talk to Will about his plans.
It’d be nice if I knew what his plans are. Everything was so hazy last night—wonderful but hazy. Until now, I didn’t know he had any feelings for me, I just hoped, and now I really hope he does. With my best friend being the lady-killer he is, I know better than anyone that guys don’t look at sex the same ways girls do. Will’s sleeping with me doesn’t mean he feels anything for me. Maybe I just made him really horny. I’m still not sure if Gia’s sleeping with him. The image of him and Gia having sex makes me want to vomit.
Around seven o’clock, we head back to Will’s. He should be home by now, the doorman has probably let him in. I ask Zach to please be nice and not let on that I told him what happened. As soon as we walk in, Will glares at us. It’s a mixture of annoyance and something I can’t put my finger on, but I think he’s jealous.
“You guys have fun?” he says in a sarcastic, dry tone.
“Not as much as you guys had last night,” Zach mutters, and I shoot him a look.
“What did he say?” Will asks me, and I shoot him a look to drop it.
“I gotta use your phone,” Zach says, picking up the cordless and carrying it into the guest room Will assigned him.
Will and I sit in a comfortable but anxiety-filled silence.
“Did you talk to Gia?” I ask, and he nods quickly. “About what?” I’m paranoid. I want to make sure he didn’t talk to her about what I think he wouldn’t talk to her about.
“Just told her you and Zach had made it home safely and apologized for not calling her last night,” he says quickly.
I let out a little sigh of relief. “Was she suspicious?”
“She has no reason to be,” he whispers back, still unaware that Zach knows what happened.
“Is she coming over?” I swallow my nerves.
“No, she said to just keep an eye on you here,” he says, looking away from me.
Zach reappears and gives us a peace sign. “Well, I’m out.”
“Ugh, where are you going?” I ask, surprised.
“Over to Ashlyn’s. She’s off tonight,” he says with a grin, opening the door.
“You’re spending the night?” Will asks in a disapproving tone.
“Yeah, that should give you two lovebirds some time to talk,” he says with a wink before leaving. “See you later, brat.”
Then he’s gone. When I look at Will, his eyes are practically popping out of his head.
“You told him?” he yells.
“He knew already. I didn’t just volunteer the information!” I yell back.
He sits on the couch and rests his head in his hands.
“What are we going to do?” I ask nervously, though I don’t know what he’s going to say. I still don’t know if last night meant to him what it meant to me.
He sighs and sits back on the couch almost sinking into the sofa. “I’ve been thinking about that all day.” His voice is low and strained. “I don’t know what to do.”
My heart sinks. I want to be mad at him, to yell at him, but when his eyes find mine, they’re sad and full of uncertainty.
“Do-do you regret what happened?” I ask, and I feel my chest tightening, trying to cushion my heart, because if he says yes, it’ll break into a thousand pieces. “Do you think it was a mistake?” This time my voice is weak and breaks.
He looks at me for what seems like an eternity before he comes over and rests on his knees, pulling me toward him. He holds my face so that I look him directly in the eye. “You’re not a mistake. I don’t regret what happened, and if you want me to break it off with her today, I will. I want to be with you, Gwen.”
I smile, but it’s weak. As happy as I am to hear his words, they change everything. Words that have made my day and could possibly make my life will destroy my sister. The reality of the situation is really kicking in. What used to be just unrequited feelings, what ifs, dreams, fantasies are hitting me in the face as reality. I want him so much, but I know it’s a trade-off—if I get Will, I lose Gia. She won’t understand that I didn’t mean for this to happen, that we couldn’t help it. She’ll see our love as the ultimate betrayal, and no one will blame her. I can’t even blame her. Why, out of all the people in the world, did I have to feel like this about him? But looking into his eyes, I feel alive and I know it can’t be anyone else.
“I know this sounds silly and trivial now, but I don’t want to hurt her.” Tears fill my eyes.
He wipes them away, pulls me close to him, and strokes my back. “I know. I-I love your sister.”
I feel a stab of pain in my chest.
“But me and her, we aren’t meant to be. We don’t fit. She knows that—it’s why she hasn’t accepted my proposal. Since I met you, since I’ve fallen for you, I’ve prayed every day she wouldn’t change her mind.”
I pull back from him and rest my forehead on his.
“I’m going to tell her I met someone else,” he says, and my heart stops.
“You can’t say that,” I say, my eyes wide in terror.
“I won’t tell her who,” he says, and I shake my head.
“That will hurt her too badly,” I say, trying to think. I grip the necklace resting on my chest. This is a terrible mess. “Okay, you can tell her that you know you two aren’t working out, that she deserves better, that things just aren’t working. It will hurt her, she’s going to ask questions, but she’ll find comfort in school and work. Gia’s strong. She’ll get over it I’ll keep working at the school—she shouldn’t suspect anything—and I’ll tell her I met someone or something. I can come and see you and . . .”
His face falls. “I know you don’t want to hurt Gia, but I want to be with you, Gwen. I don
’t want us to be a secret . . .”
I shake my head. “No, it won’t be like that, not forever. We just have to let enough time pass.”
Gia’s reasonable. Maybe in a year or two she’ll understand. She’ll feel some type of way about it, but she won’t hate Will or me. By then, I’m sure Gia will have charmed another guy into marrying her even. I don’t say that to Will though. I’ve learned that when Will gets involved in something, he’s all in. He throws himself completely into it, and making him feel as though we’ll have to wait so long to really be together will make him angry or he’ll shut down.
“Okay, whatever you want,” he says before kissing me softly, tenderly, so differently from last night.
He pulls me to him and guides us to the floor, kissing my soul out of me. While his hands and lips explore me, I don’t think about her or what will happen. We’re only us, and I’ve never felt so good about being so selfish before.
GIA’S BEEN SO busy with school and work that Will just hasn’t had the chance to talk to her. I’m disappointed and relieved at the same time. The day after Zach leaves is so nerve-racking.
Walking back into our house feels utterly strange, as though I don’t belong here. Guilt crawls up my spine and rests there as I walk past Gia’s room to the bathroom. I shower for almost an hour, trying to wash away my guilt.
I walk to the grocery store and buy food for her favorite meal—baked chicken with white rice and spinach salad. She’ll be home in about an hour or so. My stomach feels as if it’s on a seesaw as I wait for her to come in. It seems as if the minutes have slowed down and simultaneously sped up. I want to get seeing her over with, but the delay is also comforting.
“Oh my God, is that baked chicken with rosemary I smell?” she calls.
My stomach drops, and I turn around to face her. “Yup.”
She walks up beside me and peeps into the oven. “Have I told you how much I love having you here?” She bumps my hip with hers.
