Page 282 of Sin Bin

Iberian Peninsula — 2%

Low Confidence Regions

Europe East — 1%

Scandinavia — 1%

Caucasus — <1%

European Jewish — <1%

AMERICA — 4%

Native American (North, South) — 4%

• Argentina

“Ninety-six percent European!” Meadow crowed triumphantly. “I win!”

“Damn.” Logan looked crestfallen. “I missed the target by one freaking percent.”

She laughed and playfully poked his arm. “You are so white!”

He scowled. “How do we know these results are legit?”

“Oh, please! You wouldn’t be questioning them if you’d won the bet!”

“I’m just saying,” he argued. “These tests aren’t always accurate.”

“I’m sure they’re accurate enough.” Meadow tapped the screen with a smug grin. “Sorry, sweetie, but you are whitey-white. Just as I predicted. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Honestly, I don’t know why you seem so surprised. Your father is white, your mother was half white, and you already knew that most Argentines are of European descent. But, hey, it looks like you’ve got a little mestizo ancestry from your Argentine side, which is pretty awesome. All of it is awesome,” she reiterated with a smile. “It’s like a blueprint for the uniquely wonderful package that is Logan Francisco Matías Brassard.”

He grunted, still looking somewhat deflated.

“Aww.” She reached up and stroked his jaw, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Don’t worry, boo. I still love you.”

“Not enough to move in with me,” he grumbled darkly.

She bit her lip guiltily. “That’s a really big step, Logan. I don’t know if either of us is ready for that.”

“I am.”

“You think you are.”

“I know I am.” He met her eyes, his voice gruff. “I don’t think you realize how much I love having you here, especially these past few days when you’ve been working from home. It feels right, Jupe. You belong here.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest. Her lungs couldn’t expand when he held her stare like that. “I meant it when I told you that I love being here with you. It does feel right.”

“So what’s the problem?”

She sighed. “Relationships change when people live together. I mean, what if we start getting on each other’s nerves? What if you start getting annoyed by the sight of my hair products on the bathroom counter? What if you start feeling suffocated?”

“I won’t,” he adamantly insisted.

“You don’t know that, Logan. Just as I don’t know how shacking up together would eventually affect me.” Her voice softened. “Look, I’m not saying I’ll never move in with you. It could happen one day. Just not now. I need more time, okay?”

Lowering his gaze to the laptop, he sank into a brooding silence.

She snuggled up against his shoulder. “Don’t be mad.”

---