I’m lying in the bed, burying my face in my arms, weeping now. Joe’s raspy voice floats somewhere above my head.
“I thought you two were close. That you got along.” My voice is muffled as my lips move over the hard industrial linen of the hotel bed.
“We were all of those things. But ultimately, it didn’t matter. Even though Dom was the golden child—the overachiever, the prom king—I had something he never had. I was the healthy one. I was the one my parents didn’t have to worry about. I took my health for granted. I smoked in front of him. I drank excessively. We loved each other to death. We had the kind of closeness that only happens when you know you can lose someone. We went camping together and went to games together and became neighbors and hung out at least a few times a week. But ultimately, he still thought he deserved you more than I did. In his eyes, he’d paid his dues. He walked around with an inner clock that was always ticking, reminding him his time on this earth was limited.”
The bed dips, and I know Joe is next to me. It doesn’t feel as immoral as it would have a second ago. Screw Dom. Screw him all to hell. All this time I felt guilty about him, when I should’ve felt glee at kissing his brother on the day he proposed.
“You’re too good a guy,” I sigh, rubbing at my face.
“Why do you say that?” he asks gently.
“Because you stepped aside. Reluctantly, but you did.”
“Turns out good guys do finish last.” Joe tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, shaking his head. He looks wrecked. I hate what this is doing to him. “I should’ve just done it.”
“Should’ve done what?” I put my hand over his so he can’t pull it away from my cheek.
“Should’ve just walked to you and kissed the shit out of you the day before Christmas. It was my knee-jerk reaction when I saw your face again. I chose to act civilized. In retrospect—fuck civilization.”
A chuckle escapes me. I press my forehead against his and close my eyes. Our fingers lace together. He ignores the big diamond on my engagement finger. For the first time in months I do too.
“Come with me to Boston,” he croaks.
Something warm swooshes in my stomach. I want to. I really do. But that’s what scares me. Joe is right. I am terrified of loving him. He means so much to me; the idea of trying and failing with him is . . . paralyzing to me.
“It’s not a good idea,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because I still haven’t figured out what I want to do with my life. My family expects some firm resolutions from me. They want to know what I’m going to do. I can’t just up and leave again.”
Dad is going to kill me if I pull another Ever circa 2015. Where I just left for Boston and never looked back.
“Just for a few days.” He brackets my face, kissing my lips softly. Sweetly. A faint brush of a touch. My whole body breaks in shivers. It remembers. It remembers Spain, and it remembers Joe’s hallway. There’s a memory album of all the times we touched tucked deep inside me.
I pull away from him. “We can’t have sex.”
“It’s not sex.” He kisses my nose. “It’s not even in the same neighborhood as sex.” His lips brush my collarbone. “Sex has nothing to do with it. Just come with me for a few days. Please.”
“Okay, let me talk to my dad. I’ll join you tomorrow or the next day.”
“No time.” He grabs my hand between us and tugs me to his body. I let myself enjoy his warmth. His hardness. “Tomorrow morning. Let’s go grab your suitcase. You don’t even have to bring your purse. My treat.”
I kiss the side of his neck. “All right, Bill Gates. That’s enough. I need to head back home. Dad and Donna are going to Mexico tomorrow.”
“We’re really not going to have sex, are we?” Joe’s face falls. His hand is pressed on the small of my back. His erection is digging into my stomach. I’m turned on. I want to have sex. But I feel like we’ve both made huge progress, and I just want to know we’re not acting on instinct here because of what we just found out about Dom.
“Not even a little.”
“Ever.” He buries his head in my shoulder, laughing. “You’re killing me.”
“Okay, let’s make a deal that a Graves family member can never say that to me, not even jokingly.” I rub his back.
It makes him laugh harder. “We’re dark.”
“That’s why we’re drawn to each other.”