Page 49 of Am I the Only One

“He isn’t ... I mean, he isn’t like other people.” I stumble over my words, nervous about the thought of introducing Luca to my brother.

“I get that, but there’s no reason to hide him, right? Don’t you think it would be good for him to meet the people in your life?”

I stew on what he’s saying, and I suppose he has a point. I wonder if Matthew, in his own way, feels excluded from my life. I mean ... he’s never been a part of my life outside of our home and our family. Sure, I visit him and take him places, but it’s always just the two of us.

“You’d really do that? You’d come home with me?”

“Why do you act so surprised?”

“I don’t know, I just ...”

“I wish you’d put yourself out there more,” he adds, and I respond with a smirk, “I am. I’m meeting up with Olivia later.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he grumbles, “Fuck me.”

“Maybe you should stop sleeping around so much. You’re depleting my pool of possible friends.”

“So now this is my fault?”

“You said it,” I tease as another plane soars our way.

The ground starts vibrating under my feet, and I reach up as if I’m really going to touch it. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and relish the gust of wind that coils around me.

Emma

“You look a mess.”

As I take a seat at the table where Olivia has been waiting for me, I comb my fingers through my tangled hair only for them to get caught in the knots. “Sorry I’m late. I took the train straight from Gravelly Point.”

“What were you doing there? It’s freezing outside.”

“Luca and I were watching the planes.”

“And he made you take the Metro here?”

Immediately regretting even mentioning it, I take a swallow from the glass of ice water that’s in front of me.

“Is he avoiding me?”

“No,” I lie. “We lost track of time and he had to rush back to campus to make it to his class.”

The waiter stops by, and when I see that Olivia is already working on a glass of white wine, I tease, “So much for a coffee date,” and order a glass of rosé.

She grins, lifting her hands to mimic the balancing of a scale. “Coffee? Chardonnay? Coffee? Chardonnay?” before picking up her wine glass. “Chardonnay wins every time.”

I smile and pick up the menu, scan it, and settle on a Caesar salad with fresh anchovies.

“So, how was the gala?” she asks, catching me a little off guard.

Right. The fake gala I told her about.

“Oh, it was wonderful. It was great to go back home and reconnect.”

“Have you ladies made your selections?” the waiter inquires as he sets my wine down.

We place our orders, and when he excuses himself, she says, “So, how is it living with Luca? You must see a lot of interesting things.”

“If by things, you mean girls, then yes.” I stifle a slight chuckle when I take a sip of my wine.

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