Page 49 of Upshot

I laugh. “The baby. It’s pretty amazing to feel.”

Pete nods, and we sit for a few minutes in silence.

“You want to order some food?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

We settle on burgers. I add several items I think Brontë can eat without too harsh consequences. He gets up and crosses to the minifridge and fixes us both a drink.

“Is something bothering you?” I ask, accepting the Jack and Coke. “I should have asked you before inviting Brontë. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“No,” he says. “Don’t ever worry about bringing her. I like her. Who would complain about a beautiful woman tagging along?”

I glare at him. Not totally comfortable with that observation, as true as it is. He laughs.

“Fuck off. I’d never go after yours.”

“I know that, but it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to get in a fight every time you look at her.” I shake my head. “It’s just instinct, I think.”

“You love this one?” he asks. It’s an innocent question. But I’ve never told a woman who wasn’t related to me that I love her. Technically, I haven’t told Brontë yet either. I need to, though, and soon. Hopefully, she won’t respond the way Geneva does every time I tell her I love her. She rolls her eyes, flips me off, and walks off.

“Yes,” I say without overthinking it. “I’m madly in love.”

“How do you know it’s not just infatuation or a novelty that will fade?” Pete asks.

There’s something he’s not telling me. This isn’t a typical Pete question. I don’t think we’ve ever discussed love before. It makes me think he’s getting tired of the one-night stands. He could be as ready to settle down as I am. Does this involve my sister? Will I be able to deal with them getting together? I guess time will tell.

“You know how, when you're infatuated with someone, it’s about one thing? Like, you can’t wait to get her naked again? But you never think, ‘I should knock off early so we can share some leftover pizza in the kitchen and I’ll watch the game while she reads.’ The whole time we were scoping out the school, all I could think about was what Brontë would think.

“I just ordered five extra plates of food to make sure there is at least one thing she can eat. There’s this need deep in my soul to take care of her. I don’t think that will fade. Ever. Or the need to hear her laugh at something stupid I’ve said. And I want to be the person she comes to when she’s hurting. Every time. That’s how I know it’s love.”

“That sounds too easy,” Pete says.

“It is easy when it’s right.”

“I agree,” Brontë says from the bedroom doorway. We both stand. A single tear rolls down her cheek, but she’s smiling, so I know it’s one of joy. I open my arms, and she walks easily into them. “It is easy.” I kiss her lightly on the lips.

“I think I’ll go check out the hotel bar. Don’t wait up,” Pete says. He makes a hasty exit out of the room. He’ll be back. I got us a two-bedroom suite. Hopefully he’s not drunk when he reappears. I realize that I want what Brontë and I have for him. Even if it is with my sister.

“How much did you hear?” I ask.

“Most of it.”

“So you heard that I love you?”

She nods her head.

“Well, just in case you didn’t, I love you.”

“I love you too.” She grins at me.

What was I waiting for? Hearing those words is like a balm to all of the insecurities I’ve had.

“Ooh, what did you get?” She moves to dig through the plates of food. “I can’t believe you came back, and I slept through it. Guess the library wore me out.”

“What did you find?” I ask as she digs through the tray of food.

“So much good stuff.” She picks up the plate covered in fruit and sits on the couch. “But first, come show me every picture you took.”

---