My sister is almost more of a player than I am. She pulls as much pussy, if not more, and tries half as hard for it. She stole more than a chick or two from me growing up.
But I’m not pulling all that much pussy these days. In fact, I haven’t had sex since that night in DC. What’s the point? After knowing what it feels like to have a partner who can keep up with me, why would I want less?
Unfortunately for my right hand and me, Stevie hasn’t given in to a repeat round.
But ever since that day at the dog shelter, I don’t know that I’m all that interested in just another session in the sack. I kind of what to hang out with her, too. With our clothes on.
Without is cool too.
Whatever.
“Ev, do you like someone? For real?”
“No, Linds. I don’t.” My sister’s smile is lifted and knowing. “Fuck. I don’t know.”
“Holy shit. What is going on?”
“Nothing is going on. We hooked up once and it kind of fucked with my head, and I haven’t been too tempted to crawl into bed with anyone else.”
“Evan…” My sister’s eyes are big and proud. “You like someone.”
Exhaling a deep, resigned breath, I hide my face in my hands. “I know.”
“Can I see her?” Lindsey’s tone has shifted drastically from the teasing she was doing a moment ago. Now there’s just pride and excitement in her voice.
Pulling up Stevie’s Instagram, I show Lindsey my favorite picture on her page. But I also make sure to hold it away from my sister so she doesn’t accidentally double-tap it. Knowing her, she’d do that shit on purpose.
This photo of Stevie, standing on a bridge overlooking a river, with her back to the camera, is beautiful and natural, her chestnut curls waving in the wind. Her face is turned back over her shoulder, showcasing her freckles and blue-green eyes. She’s in her typical attire of baggy jeans, dirty Nikes, and an oversized flannel, though it’s blowing away from her body, and she just looks really…pretty.
Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Damn.” Lindsey’s eyes go wide. “She’s nothing like your typical type. She also looks way too cool for you.”
“She might be.”
“She’s hot, that’s for sure, and look at that ass.” My sister leans in closer, examining my phone.
“Absolute dump truck.” My voice drips with pride, but I don’t know why. It’s not like the owner of that ass is mine, though I kind of want her to be.
“So, what’s the deal with you two?” Lindsey relaxes back in her chair, bringing her red wine to her lips.
“There is no deal. She works for the team and—”
Lindsey’s wine gets spit right back into her glass. “She works for the team? Please tell me this isn’t some forbidden kink of yours.”
“It’s not. I actually find it really fucking annoying that she could get in trouble for it. Anyway, she’s a flight attendant for the team plane.”
“She’s your flight attendant?” Lindsey bursts into a disbelieving laugh. “Fuck, this is good.”
Rolling my eyes, I continue. “It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Get it out of our systems.”
My sister nods in understanding.
“But I like being around her. She comes off self-assured with a bite, but she’s actually kind of sweet, and I don’t think she gets how pretty she is. I think all her confident bullshit is an act.”
“Asshole on the outside, softie on the inside. Sounds like someone else I know.”
“I bought her sweatpants for Christmas.”
That causes my sister to pause. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I shrug. “It’s kind of an inside joke. I thought it was charming, but she hasn’t said a word, and I’m worried I freaked her out.”
“If a girl I slept with once bought me sweatpants for Christmas, I’d have to think long and hard about going at it a second time with her.”
Well, shit.
My sister’s phone buzzes with an email. “Are you kidding me? Do my clients not realize it’s Christmas?” Standing from the table, she heads into the third room here. “I’m billing double for this.”
With the central part of my penthouse empty the way it typically is, I peek out my window once again and back to my phone, but still, there’s nothing. Well, nothing from Stevie. There is a text from Logan asking me to come over for dessert before the kids go to bed, which is a perfect excuse to get out of here.