“One more,” I bargain.
She nods. Cracks another capsule. Tosses its remains in the sink. Motions to the shower. “Will you?”
“Of course.”
She pulls her bathrobe over her dress. Pushes the shower curtain aside, plants a towel over the edge of the bathtub, then leans back. “Maybe Walker is into Leighton.”
“Possible.”
“But they don’t have it. Something is up with him. And Brendon. He didn’t come home last night. That’s never happened before.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. It’s probably nothing. A date. But all he texted was—” She drops her voice two octaves to imitate Brendon. “Staying at Walker’s place. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She moves back to her normal tone. “Like that’s supposed to convince me he’s not out getting laid.”
“It’s better that way. Or would you rather hear about his sex life?” I squeeze dandruff shampoo—another good way to fade hair color—into the glass and stir with a metal spoon. There. It’s a nice pale orange.
“Yeah, that’s true. But I’m still worried.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“You would know, I guess. You two have been hanging out a lot.”
“Only because his work schedule aligns with mine and yours doesn’t.”
“Yeah. You… you like hanging out with him?”
“You don’t?”
“I guess he’s all right.”
“He’s good company.” If he ever talks to me again.
She lifts her neck to look at me. “You haven’t said anything about school.”
“What’s there to say?”
“Like you don’t love every second of learning.”
“I don’t hate it.” I move to the tub. Grab the handheld shower head and turn the water on. And test it against my palm. Too hot. I turn the cold.
“You. Love. It.”
“Maybe.”
“Just admit it.”
“Okay. I love it.” There. Perfect. I kneel next to Emma. “Lean back.”
She does.
I focus on rinsing her hair. It makes it easier not to spill everything rising up in my throat.
“What about your grandma?” she asks. “Do you have any more info.”
“Sort of. It’s… it’s not good, but they’re not sure how not good.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” My chest gets tight. I need less of that. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Okay.” She’s quiet for a while.
I rinse her hair.
She squirms as water hits her ears.
The silence is nice. Even if it’s heavy with all sorts of unsaid things.
“I thought about this. More than I should have.” She looks up at me. “All the guys you know are from work or school. All except the guys at Inked Hearts.”
“Maybe.”
“So, if it’s not someone from work or school, it’s Walker, Ryan, Dean, or Brendon.” She cringes as her brother’s name falls off her lips.
“It’s not going to happen. It doesn’t matter.”
“It is. And it does.”
I finish rinsing her hair. Move on to shampoo.
“Why… why don’t you want to tell me?”
I press my lips together. Rub Emma’s scalp a little harder. Avoid her attempts to look me in the eyes.
“You’d tell me if you were into my brother.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Em.”
“Is it though? You guys have been hanging out a lot.”
“Because he’s always here.”
“You’re different around him. Nervous. Giggly.”
“I don’t giggle.”
“You do. You… I mean, I get that he’s hot. You’re not the first person who’s said that.”
“They’re all hot.”
“True. But you look at him in this way. Not like he’s your brother.”
“He’s not my brother. He’s your brother. He’s my…” Well, he’s my nothing right now. “He’s my friend.” I grab the shower head and bring it to her hairline. “Close your eyes.”
She does. “You keep insisting he’s hot and not annoying.”
“I take the latter back.”
“You can tell me, Kay. I won’t be pissed you like him. It’s not like you’d ever act on it.”
Right. It’s not like I’d kiss him in the middle of the night.
I try to focus on rinsing Emma’s hair. On anything but the feelings whirring around my gut.
There. She’s done.
I turn the shower head off. “You want to do this now.” I motion to the bottle of Special Effects dye sitting on the bathroom counter.
“Let’s air dry a little first.” She sits up. Gathers her hair in one hand and squeezes. “Whatever it is that’s bugging you, you can tell me.” Her voice is soft. Earnest. Hurt.
She thinks I’m locking her out.
God, the way she’s looking at me like I don’t trust her anymore.
I can’t take it.
I can’t lose Em too.
Words jump out of my mouth without stopping in my brain. “It’s Dean.”
Her jaw drops. “Really?”
“I know. He’s too old. He sleeps with a different woman every night. He doesn’t take anything seriously. But—”
“He’s hot. Confident. Funny. I get it.”
“Yeah. But I don’t actually want to be with him. That would be terrible.”
She nods. “Oh.” Her eyes light up with an epiphany. “No wonder he bet Brendon you’re not a virgin. Then offered to pop that cherry.” She laughs over his dirty words. “You should take him up on it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Or maybe not.” She sets her hand on my shoulder. “When you like someone, you get attached. And Dean isn’t the kind of guy you want to be attached to.”