Page 68 of Falling in Love with Two

“Why not?”

“Just haven’t been able to shut my brain off.”

He nods. “Understandable. Let me know how I can help.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” I reply with a yawn.

He sets his hand on my ankle. There’s nothing special about it. He’s not trying to make a move or anything. It’s not sexual or expectant of anything.

But it’s nice and oddly comforting.

Maybe it’s that Dylan is so sweet. Maybe it’s that I’m in a nice home with an actual bed to sleep in later. Maybe it’s the stability of it all.

I find myself watching the movie and actually enjoying it. I recognize a couple of the kids but can’t place them, so Dylan fills in the blanks.

I’m pretty invested, but it doesn’t take long for my eyelids to get heavy. The past couple of days are catching up to me. I do my best to stay awake, but it isn’t long before exhaustion takes hold, and I fall into a deep sleep.

twenty-one

Gorgeous and Tough as Nails

Dylan

Ilook down at Leah who is now sound asleep next to me. I stare at her face which is just peeking out under the blanket. Tonight is the first time I’ve seen her without all the dark eye makeup. She’s still beautiful.

I’m trying to do all I can to make sure she’s comfortable. I’m still completely winging it, but hopefully, it gets easier as time goes on. I want to make sure she’s at home enough to want to stay.

Being around Leah is enough to remind me why I liked her in the first place. She’s funny, tough as nails, and witty as hell. And gorgeous.

But us suddenly moving in together is a stark reminder of how little we know about each other. That wasn’t a big deal when we were just fucking. I’m sure most people would agree that moving in with someone you barely know is a bit unorthodox. I’d love to get to know her, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that she’s got some walls up. Growing up with four sisters, I know that those walls were probably put up for damn good reasons. I also know how hard they are to get past.

But fuck, I’m willing to try.

We are going to have a baby together. I think that will bring us about as close as two people can get. At least, I hope it does.

The whole having a baby thing still seems surreal to me. It’s like my brain understands that Leah is pregnant and what that means. But thinking about a baby being here with us in less than a year seems so strange.

Before my mom left this morning, she asked me if I was going to try to have a relationship with Leah, or if I was just going to be there for the baby. This morning, my answer was that I wasn’t sure, but I knew being a good dad was my number one priority. Even being around Leah for ten seconds, though, has me wishing that we could be more.

But I know better than to push any kind of relationship. Something tells me that if I were to push Leah, I would push her right out the door.

I get lost in the movie for a minute before I feel her stirring next to me. I reach for the remote and turn the volume down just a little as to not wake her. With a soft snore and stretch of her legs, she’s back asleep.

My phone vibrates on the table next to me, and I quickly grab it to read the screen.

RONNIE

I love my twin. We share a bond that I have a hard time even describing to other people. One thing that we used to always share a common bond on was the fact that we weren’t ready to settle down. We were all about having fun. Ronnie is still in that frame of mind—which is fine. More power to her. But after listening to her complain about Liz settling down and getting pregnant, I’m not sure that I’m ready to listen to her lecture me. She’ll also probably tell me how crazy it is to have a girl move in with me that I hardly know.

Not that Ronnie has a leg to stand on. She’s done her share of crazy in her life.

A pang of sadness hits me as I fear how much our relationship might change now that I’ll have a kid. Ronnie has always been my confidant. I’ve been able to tell her anything.

Until now.

And that makes me so incredibly sad.

People always talk about the weird bond that twins have, and it’s true. Somehow, we could always sense when the other was in trouble. I remember when we were ten, and Ronnie was out riding bikes with her friends. She flipped over the handlebars and broke her arm. I went and told Mom something was wrong, and she thought I was crazy until Ronnie’s friend was knocking on our door, screaming for help. After that, our mom never questioned it again.

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