The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,103

might be able to make this work, and if I were younger, it would be fun to try. But now I know better than to walk willingly into the lion’s den.

“I’m sorry,” Sadie says. She makes a move like she’s going to leave, and I’m surprised by my disappointment. I have no one to talk to about this, and it’s been bothering me for days.

“It’s just too complicated,” I say. “There’s avec and Bell and New Jersey and the city, and, well, maybe he thinks those are things we can work through, but how could we? He’s never going to move here, and he shouldn’t have to when he’s got Bell to think of.”

Sadie slides to the edge of her seat. “Are you telling me you and my brother have talked about these things?”

“Well, not at length—”

“And he thinks it could work?”

“I suppose. He came with me to look for a new apartment, and we talked about the future some. But that was before things were . . . over.”

Sadie’s mouth falls open. “I don’t believe it. Andrew never talks about anyone in the future tense. Not since . . . never mind.”

My cheeks redden. My urge is to downplay what I said—maybe I exaggerated. I didn’t, though. We really had an amazing weekend up until I spoiled it. “Since Shana?” I ask.

Sadie widens her eyes. “You know about Shana?”

“Yes,” I say. “A fair amount, actually.”

She blinks a few times, looking around my office as she seems to collect her thoughts. I can’t seem to read her shock. Is she upset? Happy? “So why’s it over?” she asks.

“I don’t have to tell you how screwed up I am after Reggie. You already know. Andrew and I ran into him while we were together, and it reminded me of everything I’d been through this year. Andrew got the brunt of it. Just for being there.”

“But he didn’t leave,” she states.

“No, but is that the kind of woman you want with your brother? One who’s too emotionally scarred to operate with any normalcy?”

Understandably, she stays quiet.

I sigh. “I care about him, but maybe I was too rash thinking I could get involved with someone so different from me. He has tattoos and a motorcycle and his garage. And I—I’m probably too stuffy for him. We just don’t click, you know?”

“But do you click?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. “Like when you’re together?”

My face heats. There’s only one possible answer to that question. “Yes.”

“That’s not enough, though,” she says.

I can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement. I hesitate. “Bell.” Just her name says it all. “Out of everything, she’s the most important thing to consider. I mean, what if we try this, and down the line, it’s time to move in together, but I won’t go to Jersey and he won’t come here. Then what? We’ve put her through all that for nothing. Just to have another parental figure ripped out of her life.”

Sadie laces her hands in her lap, unusually quiet.

“You understand, don’t you?” I ask. “Would you have gone out with Nathan if he’d been your complete opposite in every way?”

“Probably not.”

“Thank you,” I say. “If you could just explain that to your brother. I’m not sure how he’ll take it. He seems to think we have a shot.”

“Okay,” she says. “I will.”

I realize then I was bracing myself for resistance, though I’m not sure why. All along I’ve suspected she wouldn’t want us together. But she hasn’t actually spent time around us while we weren’t hiding our relationship. She doesn’t realize how good we are even though we aren’t supposed to be. “You’ll convince him for me?” I ask.

“I see your points.” She taps a finger on the arm of her chair. “You’re all wrong for each other. What are you going to do—go to Jersey?”

“Exactly,” I say, but for whatever reason, her agreeing with me has weakened my resolve, and the word comes out wavering. “I mean, some people commute, I know. But back and forth, that’s an extra two hours I don’t have.”

“I totally get it. That was one of my concerns moving to Brooklyn. I’ve gotten used to a slightly longer commute. It can be nice to have some extra time to relax to and from work. But that’s not the point.”

“No,” I agree, “that isn’t the point.”

“You are so not the mom type,” she continues. “You’d have to take Bell to gymnastics, probably even her competitions as she gets older. And help her with