Page 139 of Next to Everything We Wanted
I chuckled. “I’m glad living with my brother isn’t that hard.” Something tugged in my chest as I thought about how I hadn’treally lived with Asher. Visited, but not lived with at home, having a full sibling experience.
“You know how my mom sent me a letter?” Sienna said, fiddling with her tank top strap.
I nodded. “Have you read it?”
“The whole thing.” She bit her lip. “She talked about how she never wanted kids.”
“In a letter to herchild?” I blinked. “That must’ve stung.”
“It did. She said the day I was born was the best day of her life, though.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if she hadn’t cracked after her parents died. If I could’ve done anything to make her stay. If she ever thought about having more kids. I’ve always wanted a big happy family.”
I rubbed her back. “I’m sorry things didn’t turn out that way.”
“Yeah.” She drew in a sharp breath. “I have her phone number now, though. I’m trying to get some of my questions answered. Even though I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her, she does seem like an interesting person.”
“I hope things go well.”
“Thank you.” From the look in her eyes, I could tell that she wanted to say more, but she let the conversation drop and kept eating her ice cream.
When we finished our desserts, I grabbed Sienna’s guitar and strapped it over myself.
Her face lit up. “You’re going to perform a song for me?”
“Sheesh, don’t expect grand gestures every day now. I don’t screw up that often.”
She giggled. “I guess I should take that as a good thing.”
“I think it’d be nice to write a song together.”
“Really?” A smile broke out on her face. “Do you have any ideas?”
“No, I just thought of this a few seconds ago.”
She laughed again. “I don’t have any, either. I’ve been off my game today.”
“I can tell.”
“Hey!” She threw a napkin at me. “Can you blame me? I have a lot on my mind.”
I gave her a teasing smile. “Like what?”
“Like . . .” She traced her finger along the strap of my tank top. “You look so hot without sleeves.”
“So do you.” I slipped my finger underneath her tank top strap, her cold skin greeting me.
That and her black bra strap.
Why did this keep happening?
“S-Sorry,” I said, pulling my hand back. “I-I wasn’t trying to catch a feel.”
She let out a heavy snort. “It’s fine. It’s just a bra strap.”
“Yeah, but it’sunderwear.”
“What are you, a school dress code?”
I laughed, some of my embarrassment fading. “No, I was just raised to not be a creep.”
