Runaway Girl (Girl 2) - Page 8

A drape seems to spill down around the perimeter of the room. If the situation wasn’t so fucked up, I might have laughed at the way awareness creeps over Naomi. She thought she was walking onto the set of Legally Blonde: The Musical, but it has turned out to be Shakespeare. And the fact that I know enough to reference Broadway is a true testament to the elephant in the room. My missing sister. Birdie’s twin. She was the drama club queen, the one with the all-pink wardrobe and boy band crushes. She would have been in awe of Naomi, but she’s not here. Her ghost, however, is alive and well. One look at Birdie’s stiff demeanor would clue anyone in, and Naomi is no different. Her blue eyes trip around the room, landing on framed photographs of the twins at various stages of their life. Several ticks pass.

“How long ago did you lose her?”

“Six months.” Birdie shakes out her hands, as if trying to distract Naomi from the fresh horror of it. It’s an impossible feat, however, seeing as we’re living in our childhood home. I’ve become numb to the loss of Natalie, throwing every ounce of my energy into building a scuba diving business from the ground up. Running a household. Keeping an eye on Birdie. I couldn’t protect my own family, and because of that, I’m not sure I’ve allowed myself to mourn. Some part of me doesn’t feel deserving of it. I’m the big brother. The son. I didn’t do my job.

There is no way to forget who I’m letting down by being here, either. The backs of the men I no longer have. The sights and sounds and grit of battle that run in my veins. I was overseas with Special Forces so long, I can’t process the normalcy of what’s around me. So much so that I don’t want it, even though I know I’m doing right by Birdie.

It seems that no matter where I am, I’m in the wrong place. But there’s only one place I feel adequate and it’s so far from here, I have to constantly remind myself it exists and that I’m needed there. Far more than I’m needed here.

“Look,” Birdie continues. “I told Nat that pageants were stupid and shallow, but she was so determined to try one before college. That was her. She had this glittery, laminated wish list…and this pageant was at the top.” She presses her lips together. “Sometimes we felt what the other was feeling. Twinsense. It would mean something to her, even though she’s gone.”

Naomi seems frozen in shock, but only in a way another adult would recognize. All Birdie is seeing is concern. I think. I hope.

Why do I hope? A few minutes ago, I wanted this beauty queen out of here. I still do, don’t I? If she would stay the hell in one category, it would help me make a decision. Instead, she’s already given me adversarial, vulnerable and determined in the space of one encounter.

I’m trained to handle surprises, but this isn’t the kind I’m used to.

Naomi takes a notepad out of her purse and settles it in her lap, on top of those squeezed-together knees. This is not the time to imagine my dirty hands prying them apart for a marathon pussy-eating session, but I’m a thirty-two-year-old man with working parts and she’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever fucking laid eyes on. There. I admitted it. The prim and proper attitude she’s got is annoying me and turning me on at the same time. A pretty urgent combination, especially when I haven’t touched a woman in months, so excuse me if this isn’t the time and place. I bet her tight little ass would wiggle around the bed so much, I’d need to hold her still.

Thinking about it will have to suffice, however, because I don’t have the time or stupidity to get tangled up with a woman I could be seeing on a daily basis.

When did that become a definite possibility?

“So let’s talk about—”

Birdie cuts her off. “You think this is a stupid reason to enter a pageant, don’t you?”

Naomi sucks in a breath. “No. No.” She opens her mouth, closes it. “I was thinking…I—I’ve never had any reason at all to enter them. Not that I can remember. I was just kind of put there. And even though, God, even though what happened is so terrible and I’m so sorry, I wish I could want something for an important reason like you. I’m…amazed.”

I don’t think my sister took a single breath throughout that whole impromptu speech. I’m not sure I did, either. We don’t talk a lot about Natalie. Or my parents who couldn’t handle grief and parenting responsibilities at the same time, so they split. We don’t talk much at all. This woman has been in the house for less than five minutes and she’s already ripped off the Band-Aid.

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