Now she winced, again taking forever to respond. “Just two.”
I set the mug away and covered my face, my elbows on my legs, and shook my head. “I can’t do this.”
“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything.” Lisa’s fingers encircled my wrist. Just like when she’d placed her hand on my back earlier, I didn’t flinch. Flinching had been instinctual for so long. I had no idea why the reflex suddenly stopped in some situations, with some people, yet persisted in others. But I couldn’t think about that right now.
Removing my hand from my face, Lisa wavered for a moment, and then used her leverage on my arm to pull me forward into a hug. “Oh, Mona. I wish you would tell me what happened in Aspen. He hurt you? I’ll make him suffer.”
Heaving another watery sigh, I bit my bottom lip to stay my wobbly chin and clung to my sister. “He didn’t hurt me. He was wonderful. So wonderful.”
She made a sympathetic sound. “You miss him? Is that what this is about?”
I nodded.
“You two are together?”
I hesitated, because I wanted to be precise. “I think so.”
“You think so?” An edge entered her voice and I felt her stiffen.
I pressed my lips into a firm line and endeavored to work through the jumble of feelings and thoughts and second-guesses cluttering my brain. Were we together?
Abram’s words from that last night echoed between my ears, Stop trying to put us in a fucking box!
Sucking in a breath through my nose, I finally answered, “Definitely. Maybe.”
I felt her chest rise and fall. “Maybe. What the hell does that mean?”
Scrunching my eyes, I leaned away, but kept hold of her forearms. “It means we love each other, and I told him I’d be open to seeing him whenever he wants to see me, and he—”
“What?!” She gripped my biceps and shook me until I opened my eyes. When I did, I was faced with a pissed off Lisa. “No. Oh hell no. You are not doing this. I will not allow it. You are not becoming one of Abram Fletcher’s groupies. You are Mona DaVinci, world famous scientific badass, strong woman, brainiac, and role model to women everywhere. This is not happening!”
“It’s not like—”
“I get it.” Lisa gave me another little shake, her angry whisper like steel, her eyes flashing. “I get the insanity, I do. He’s so talented, right? And sexy, and the sex is incredible, and he makes you feel special and alive, right? But, guess what, I guarantee you are not special to him.”
“It’s not like that.”