by Jill Shalvis
A liar who’d known her truth before she had.
A long time before she had.
She cleared her throat loudly, and he shot straight up. He had bedhead, wrinkled clothes, and eyes at half-mast, lazy with sleep as they landed on her. “You okay?” he asked.
Dammit. Why couldn’t he just stay in the asshole file? This would be a whole lot easier on her if he did. And no, she wasn’t okay, not by a long shot, but, hey, when was she ever really? “What are you doing in here?”
“Making sure you’re okay.”
“No, you were sleeping. And snoring and drooling.”
“I don’t snore.”
“Like a buzz saw,” she said. “I’ve got no idea how you even slept through it.”
“Maybe you’ve got the two of us confused.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t snore.”
He gave her a small smile. “You sure?”
Shit. No. Because she did snore when she’d been drinking. With a huff, she tossed her covers aside and then stared down at herself. She was wearing her bra and panties. “Where are my clothes?”
“You threw them off just before climbing into bed. I tried to get you into pj’s, but you threatened to hit me over the head with the bottle of wine you were hugging if I so much as touched you.” He stretched and grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck; meanwhile, his shirt rose up and exposed a strip of tanned abs. Pretending not to notice, she started to stand up, swayed, and then sat back down.
He stood up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. “If I make you my famous hangover fix for breakfast, think you can keep it down?” he asked.
“I’m not hungover.” Look at that. She could lie too. “But yes.”
He looked at her for a moment, then sat on the edge of the mattress, leaning over her, and for a beat her body betrayed her, wanting to pull him down on top of her.
Bad body.
He ran a finger down the side of her face, his touch warm and gentle, and she closed her eyes.
He waited until she opened them again to speak. “You still haven’t told me if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re amazing and resilient, is what you are. But you’re not fine, at least not yet.”
She tossed up her hands. “Then why did you ask me?”
“To get you talking to me.”
“You’re a sneaky one.” She looked away. “I’m . . . mad. Hurt. What happened last night cemented my shitty track record with trust.”
He nodded solemnly. “I know. For the first time in my life, I nearly broke a promise and told you. But I knew it should come from Kinsey, who wanted to tell you.”
“She’s your family,” she said. “I get it. But as it turns out, she’s my family too.” She shook her head. “Funny how I thought it would feel different.”
“Family, real family, is different,” he said. “And it has nothing to do with blood ties. I’m hoping you can eventually give me a chance to prove that to you.”
“You, or all of you?”
He met her anger with regret and a grace she probably couldn’t have managed. “All of us.”
She made no comment on that. Because, unlike everyone else around here, she valued the truth. She also wanted answers. “Why didn’t she tell me all those years ago?”
“She didn’t want you to think she was calling only because she needed a kidney. She didn’t want you to pay a price for a relationship with her.”
“That wasn’t for her to decide.”
“True, but Kinsey’s as stubborn as”—a small smile curved his mouth—“well, you, actually.”
She stared at that mouth for a long beat, annoyed that all she could remember was how amazing it felt on hers.
“I screwed up,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry.”
“Tell me the truth. Was I just a way to help Kinsey?”
“No.” Eyes filled with sorrow and remorse, he bent his head and touched his forehead to hers. “Never. I wanted you and Kinsey to connect. I didn’t realize it would be me feeling the connection. But that’s exactly what happened.” He cupped her face and her body reacted. Her hands went to his forearms and slid up to his biceps, then into his hair. She sucked in a shaky breath, but before she could speak, there came a single knock at her bedroom door as it opened—Kinsey doing her typical knock and enter at the same time, with utter disregard for anyone’s privacy.
Brynn pulled back from Eli and crossed her arms. “Does no one understand what a damn shut door means?!”
Kinsey slapped her hand over her eyes. “Oh my God. You’re in bed together. My life’s falling apart and you’re having sex? Seriously?”
Brynn rolled her eyes. “Go away, Kinsey.”
Kinsey didn’t, of course. “Are you dressed?” she asked, leaving her hands over her eyes, looking pained. “Tell me you’re fully clothed.”
Brynn sighed. “Go. Away.”
Kinsey dropped her hand from her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. “Eli, I need to talk to my sister.”
“Oh, look at that,” Brynn said. “So you can say those words in the same sentence—‘my’ and ‘sister.’”
“Look,” Kinsey said. “We need to talk.”
“No.”
“I’m going to pretend you said yes. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
When Kinsey was gone, Eli looked at Brynn.
“No.”
“Brynn—”
“Fine.” Brynn blew out a sigh. “Whatever. I’ll go out there, but only because I want to yell at her. A lot.”
He brushed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be close by if you need anything.”
“I won’t.” But then she gripped his hand when he would have risen, and swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “This is what families do, Brynn. This is what siblings do. I’m not going to make any more excuses for her. I feel like shit you found out the way you did, which could’ve been avoided. Maybe you could just hear her out before you decide what to do.” He bent and scooped up her sundress, handing it to her before heading to the door.
“One more thing,” she said, and he turned back to look at her, those gray eyes dark and intense. “I don’t know exactly what I think about all this, or how it affects my feelings for you.”
“Understood,” he said, his voice low and gruff with emotion. “But I’m not giving up. I won’t hurt you, Brynn. Not ever again.”
She knew he believed what he was saying, and she knew she wanted to believe what he was saying.
But she also knew that her history told her she couldn’t. Her one-strike policy was in full force.
KINSEY WAS MAKING mimosas, her hands not quite steady when Brynn came into the kitchen wearing one of her cute sundresses, though she hadn’t contained her hair or bothered with shoes. Kinsey took a deep breath and handed her a mimosa. “Even though you don’t look of age.”
Brynn looked into the glass. “Is this wise?”
“It contains thirty-two percent of the daily suggested dose of C, so consider it a vitamin.”
Brynn nodded. “Good to know. But I was referring to us drinking. At eight in the morning. When we’re both looking for a fight.”
“Ah.” Kinsey nodded. Then shook her head. “I’m actually not looking for a fight,” she said, filled with regret and remorse. Because she knew damn well that her actions didn’t quite match up with her words. Everything she’d done with Brynn was fight inducing, especially her three secrets—the last of which she was taking to the grave if she had anything to say about it. At this point, she was a walking, talking ball of anxiety, deeply concerned about her relationship with her sister and how she’d sabotaged it by keeping things to herself. Doing so had led to the end of her and Deck. Maybe to the end of her and Eli—still to be determined, because she wasn’t sure how mad at her he was. And now she was also in danger of losing her sister as well, before they’d even really found each other.
All of it her own fault.
And yet, she couldn’t, wouldn’t change a thing. She was in protection mode, and she would do this for Brynn, since she’d done so little else.
“Maybe you’re not looking for a fight,” Brynn said. “But I am.”
Kinsey’s heart tightened. Look at that, the poor organ was getting quite the beating this week. “You’ve found your backbone,” she managed.
“Even slowpokes learn eventually. I’ve got a lot of questions.”
Kinsey braced. “Fair. But first, I want you to know how sorry I am that you found out the way you did. It shouldn’t have gone down like that. And I really wish I told you sooner. I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Didn’t want you to think I wanted you only for your kidney.”
“How long have you known?”
Kinsey winced. Okay, so they were diving right in. “I figured it out when I was fifteen. The year I stopped going to camp because I got really sick.” She’d hated that. Camp had been an escape, a fantasy world where she could be whoever she wanted, and she’d not even realized it until she’d lost the option. “By that time, I needed a kidney and I needed it yesterday. I was on the donor list, but nothing was happening, so I got talked into looking for relatives on the off chance anyone might be willing to be tested to see if they were a match. I went through all the ancestry sites out there back then, and was amazed at the information available. I thought I’d find our dad and maybe siblings of his.”
“But that’s not who you found.”
Holding Brynn’s gaze, Kinsey reminded herself if she was going to save this relationship, she had to be brutally honest here. And she wanted that, desperately. So she shook her head. “No. I found another offspring.”
“Me. Because I’d uploaded my DNA and a picture a while back in a moment of curiosity.”
Kinsey nodded and took a big gulp of the mimosa.
“I’ve got a long history of letting things go,” Brynn said. “Of just turning the other cheek, or better yet, walking away. But I’m done with that. This time I’m not leaving without answers.”
“Lucky me,” Kinsey quipped, and when Brynn didn’t smile or break eye contact, she sighed. “Look, I have a problem with joking at inappropriate times. I also laugh when people fall down. I’m pretty messed up to be honest.”
Brynn stared at her for a beat and then let out a low, mirthless snort. “I laugh when people fall too.”
Middle ground. So they were both messed up. She’d take it. “I couldn’t locate my dad.” At the time, anyway.
“Our dad,” Brynn said.
“Yeah.” Please don’t ask me about him . . . “Our dad.”
Brynn appeared to think about that for a minute. “You called me. And okay, I was rude. But then when I called you back, you hung up. And then you wouldn’t answer my return calls.”
“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t ask you for a kidney.”
“How about just to let me know we were sisters so that I could make my own decisions on what I would or wouldn’t give you?” Brynn shook her head. “But you didn’t do any of that. You just decided for me.”
“Guilty,” Kinsey said softly.
“You could’ve died,” Brynn said just as softly. “You would’ve preferred that to swallowing your pride?”
“I think you might be underestimating the size of my pride,” Kinsey said, again trying to joke.
But apparently Brynn still wasn’t playing. “Trust me, I know just how big it is. I knew it then and I know it now.” Brynn shook her head. “So why are you telling me all of this? Why did you allow any of it to happen? You could have gone on as is, never saying a word, not letting me move in. I never would’ve known the difference.”
“I thought about doing just that,” Kinsey admitted.
Brynn didn’t look impressed. In fact, she looked even more irritated. Kinsey wasn’t surprised. She had that effect on a lot of people.
“Okay, so clearly you received a kidney.”
“Yes.” Kinsey hesitated, because this part sucked.
“If you want me to walk away, then by all means, please stop,” Brynn said.
Kinsey drew a deep breath. “So my first kidney donor was a kid from my high school.” She polished off her mimosa and turned away to set down the glass, staying where she was, staring out the kitchen window. “Our surgeries went well, but then complications happened.”
“Complications?”
“Yeah. Big ones.” Kinsey closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “He died.”
“Oh my God. Kinsey.” Brynn came up beside her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. So you can see why I’ve got an aversion to talking about this.” She couldn’t look at Brynn. So she went back to staring out the window. High tide, and surf was up. Max was most likely out there. Maybe even Eli by now too. No, Eli wouldn’t have left. He was no doubt standing by somewhere close, making sure she and Brynn didn’t kill each other.
“But you had complications too,” Brynn said.
“Yes. My body’s been trying to reject the kidney ever since.”
Brynn looked sick. “Just how bad is it?”
“It’s not as bad as you’re thinking. I’ve got dialysis three times a week—that’s just a part of life for me.” She shrugged. “I’m used to it. There’re a few other annoying symptoms, but whatever. I’m alive. That kid isn’t.”
Brynn appeared to take this all in. “I assume Eli, Max, Deck . . . and everyone you know has already gotten tested and isn’t a match. I’m getting tested ASAP.”
Kinsey shook her head. “Don’t bother. I’m not taking a kidney from anyone alive. Especially you.”
Brynn blinked, looking shocked. “Kins—”
“I mean it.”
Brynn’s eyes narrowed. “You do realize you’re not the boss of me, right?”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“Agreed,” Brynn said. “And I’m not joking, I’m deadly serious. I’d give a stranger my kidney if they needed it. Why wouldn’t I give my ex-frenemy turned sister the same?”
Kinsey’s heart hitched. “So . . . we’re not frenemies anymore?”
Brynn looked at her for a long beat, during which Kinsey tried to keep breathing.
“To be determined,” Brynn finally said. “But whatever we are, we’re also most definitely sisters. Which isn’t the same thing as friends.”
Kinsey absorbed that blow, but then Brynn said, “Sisters are better than friends. Hand me your phone.”
Kinsey was completely turned inside out, dizzy from the emotional whiplash. “What?”
Brynn grabbed Kinsey’s phone, then waved it in front of Kinsey’s face to unlock it. She brought up the contacts and searched for something. “Where am I?” she finally asked.
Kinsey grimaced. “Under Pain in My Ass.”
Brynn rolled her eyes, then changed it to Best Sister on the Planet before downloading an app called Find Your People.
“What are you doing now?” Kinsey asked.
“This app allows us to locate each other.”
“What the hell for?”
“Because that’s what sisters do.”
Kinsey blinked.
“Look,” Brynn said. “Other than your mom, I’m basically your only blood relative. I mean, since neither of us knows where our dad is, right?”
Kinsey hesitated, then forced herself to look Brynn right in the eyes as she nodded. She hadn’t protected Brynn from much, but she could do this. Because God willing, Brynn would never know their father. “And you’re not getting tested.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No. I’m not budging on this, Brynn, not ever.”
Brynn drew a deep breath. “If you’re going to learn anything about me, even one thing, let it be this.” She stepped closer and looked right into Kinsey’s eyes. “I can’t handle any more secrets or lies. I can’t. I can’t handle people keeping things from me. We have to agree to be
honest from this point going forward, no matter what. And with that comes my honesty, my truth. I’m going to get tested, whether you like it or not. I’m telling you this because I know you don’t like it, but for us to move forward, there can’t be secrets. I’m forgiving you for the past, but now that you know me, you know my biggest fear is people keeping things from me, which always works out badly for me in the end.”
Kinsey blinked. She was being forgiven . . . when she didn’t deserve it. But she was also making the purposeful decision not to tell Brynn about their dad, which might come back to bite her in the ass. That would be her own problem. She was protecting Brynn. “I’m not an open book like you. I’m a private person.”
“I respect your boundaries, but when it comes to things that impact our relationship, it’s only going to work if we’re honest.”
“I don’t want you to be tested,” Kinsey said. “How’s that for open book?”
Brynn gave her a tight smile. “And while I respect your feelings, it’s my body, my choice, and I’m choosing to get tested.”
Kinsey had to admit, Brynn playing loose and fancy-free with being an “open book” sure made it easier to hide their father from her.
“What you do with my info after we find out is a discussion for another day,” Brynn said.
Kinsey just stared at her. “Are you always this obnoxious?”
Brynn actually laughed and threw her arms around Kinsey. “I’m your sister, aren’t I? Deal with it.” She pulled back. “I’m going to tell you one more thing. I’m going to find our dad. For you.”
Oh, Jesus. Kinsey felt like she was on a Tilt-A-Whirl, going way too fast but unable to get off. When Brynn had smiled at her, her heart had squeezed. Then she’d hugged her too, and she’d felt a surge of emotion that was shockingly close to happiness. A cruel joke on her, because it wouldn’t last. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. I don’t want you to do that.”
“Once again,” Brynn said in her now-familiar stubborn voice, the one that matched the stubborn light in her eyes, “I’m your sister, but you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m going to do this, and what you end up doing with the info is your choice. My choice will be to talk to him and get to know him.”
Kinsey’s stomach sunk to her toes, but Brynn shrugged. “Deal with it,” she said. “I’m going to shower.”
