Page 21 of Between Now and Always

I make a snap decision and pray it doesn’t come back to bite me.

“You can stay here until l get back. Order some food from room service, take a shower, nap, whatever. But don’t touch anything and don’t take anything that you didn’t come with if you decide to leave before I get back.”

As a precaution, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of her.

She flinches at the sudden flash of light and rubs her eyes to clear them. “What—what was that for?”

“It’s so I can show the cops if you dick me over.” I warn and slip my phone into my pocket.

She frowns at my phone, but mutters “fine.”

“I thought you liked taking pictures,” I say sarcastically. She took pictures of me in the shower last time she was here and then, more when we were fucking and I made her delete them.

“I’m sorry about that. And I deleted them when you asked.”

“I’ll do the same if you’re here when I get back. Don’t touch anything.”

Oh, Brother

“I’m sorry, Jack. For all of it,” I finish my story with that apology and wait for my brother to look at me.

I arrived at his hotel only a couple hours ahead of time because of the cluster fuck in my hotel room. He was dead to the world asleep when I got there. Jack’s always been able to sleep anywhere, anytime, no matter what was happening in his life. He’s also one of those people who wakes up alert and focused.

I just finished telling him the whole story, not leaving anything out, including that I went to her wedding.

Jack’s eyes are trained on a spot over my shoulder, his face a mask of enigmatic concentration. We’ve been sitting like this for five minutes and I’ve been coming out of my skin the entire time.

But I sit, because I know that prodding him will only drag out the wait for him to talk.

“So, Susan Kendicott has two kids, ten years apart with Drew Wolfe? And the one girl you met all summer, randomly at this lake, turns out to be your— I mean, shares DNA with you?” he asks, each word is said slowly and deliberately as if he’s choosing them one at a time.

“Yeah,” I nod, a knot of nausea in my gut as I acknowledge the truth that’s ruined everything.

“That’s a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?” He asks, his expression still not focused.

“Yeah, I know.”

He finally looks at me, his dark blond brows drawn together in consternation. “I don’t buy it. I really don’t. What are the chances?”

“Well, the DNA test I took say the chances are 99.9%” I remind him patiently for the second time. I’m trying hard to stem my irritation.

I’ve had a whole year to grapple with it. I went through the same mental exercise when I was confronted with the truth. He’s just learned everything, I need to let him work through it, too.

He shakes his head. “Nah.I mean, I guess. But, isn’t there some sort of biological switch or something that makes it so you can’t fall in love with people you’re related to? ”

“It’s something called the Westermarck effect, it’s not biological, but it happens when you grow up in close proximity with your siblings…or with anyone, really. Blood relative or not. It’s why neither of us understand why anyone thinks Nadia’s hot. We know she always farts loud and long first thing in the morning.”

We both grimace at the memory.

“That kind of thing tends to stop people from finding each other attractive - normally, anyway. There are some siblings who grow up together, and still experience Genetic Sexual attraction. But if you don’t grow up together and you meet your sibling it’s very like that you’d be attracted to each other. I’ve read so many stories like ours. One of them - they were married, going through IVF and found out then that they were twins…” I trail off when I realize that Jack is looking at me like I just grew another head.

“What?” I ask flushing under the scrutiny of his gaze

“Uh…you been studying this shit or something?” he asks.

“Yeah, I guess…”

I look around the room to avoid looking at him.

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