Beautiful Graves(42)
By the time we get back home, it is close to midnight. Gemma leads us to Dom’s old room, babbling energetically. It’s a beautiful room, with a queen-size bed, one blue accent wall, and navy gingham curtains.
I don’t let myself wonder what Joe’s room looks like.
Dom closes the door, but not before kissing his mom good night. I sit on the edge of his bed and brace myself for the most awkward conversation in my life.
So, funny story. Do you know your brother? Yeah, the only one you got. Well, turns out, we used to date slash sleep together slash I was kind of, sort of, crazy in love with him.
Yeah, no. The announcement can definitely use a few tweaks before I make it.
When Dom starts getting undressed and slides into his pajamas, I wonder if I should tell him without consulting Joe first. It’s his secret to tell too. Causing sibling issues is the last thing I want to do here. That would be the second family for me to break apart. That’s one hidden talent I did not want to discover about myself.
“So? What’d you think?” Dom slips under the covers. It’s my turn to stand up and prepare for bed.
“It was great. Your family is lovely.”
“Told you.” Dom props his chin on his hand as he watches me take off my bra. His gaze glides along my upper body, lingering on my chest. He kicks off his blanket, and I catch his erection twitching behind his pajama bottoms. He wants to have sex. I throw my bra on his face, pretending to laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Your parents are two doors down.”
“Three,” he corrects, nuzzling his nose against my neck. “It’s all bathrooms and guest rooms. Seph’s room is the closest, and I’ve heard him banging girls through this wall enough times to mistake this place for a brothel. Dude had prolific adolescent years. It’s payback time. What do you say? Help me even out the score.”
Nausea washes over me. It feels like he’s punched me in the gut. Thinking about Joe with other women hurts like we are still together. Like the last six years didn’t happen. Of course, there’s no way my current boyfriend can know that.
I change into a black hoodie and matching sweatpants, then get into bed. Dom wraps his arms around me instantly. He thrusts his cock between us. “He wants to say hi.”
I force out a hollow laugh, kissing his lips. “Manners dictate I say hi back. But I’m tired, and just trying to process today. In a good way.” It’s my first lie to him since we met. Up until now, I’ve only ever just selected what pieces of truth to tell him. “Rain check?”
He scans my face for a fraction of a second, but it’s enough to show me that he knows something is up. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something.
“Always. Good night, babe. I love you.”
He hasn’t called me out on it. Phew.
“Love you too.”
For the next five hours I toss and turn, sleepless and tortured, waiting for a sign, for a clue, for a breath from Joe. Something to tell me what he is thinking, feeling.
Like all my prayers, this, too, remains unanswered.
THIRTEEN
Dawn breaks through the gray Massachusetts fog at about quarter past seven in the morning, washing Dom’s childhood room in cool hues of blue and pink. The moon slinks behind naked winter trees. I’ve been watching it retreating for long minutes through the window. Knowing sleep is not on the menu, I shove my feet into Dom’s slippers and tiptoe to the bay window overlooking the Graveses’ garden.
It’s largely pebbled, with flowerpots and wooden vegetable beds. There’s one round wrought-iron table by the fence, accompanied by two chairs, and next to it stands Joe, smoking a cigarette.
I gasp a little at the sight of him. The dark circles under his eyes tell me he hasn’t slept either. It makes me feel validated. Like I’m not overreacting to what’s happening here. As if sensing my eyes on him, Joe lifts his gaze and meets my stare head-on, billowing a thick ribbon of smoke sideways. I swallow, waiting for his next move.
He doesn’t move.
He is daring me. I can see it in his eyes.
What are you going to do about our little problem, Ever?
One of us needs to move the next piece on the chessboard. And since it was me who disappeared on him, I might as well bite the bullet. Gingerly, I make my way out of Dom’s room and to the backyard.
A wave of frost hits my face as I slide the backyard door open. I stand at a safe distance from him, like he could bite me. Joe opens his soft pack of cigarettes, tilting it in my direction.
I shake my head. “I don’t smoke.”
And you know that, I don’t add.
He shrugs, taking a drag of his cigarette as he stares at the last traces of the moon before it evaporates behind the trees.
“So. Seph, huh?” I ask. This is not the strongest way to start clearing the air, but I’m not known for my eloquence in times of crisis.
“My family insists on shortening Joseph to Seph.” He is matter of fact. Not too friendly, but not short with me.
“That’s weird.”
“Blame my granddad. This was his nickname. I’m Joe to everyone else. What’s your excuse?” He refers to my new nickname.
“I’m Ever to everyone, but I’m guessing when Dom mentioned me, he said my name was Lynne.”
“You’re guessing correctly,” Joe says, still looking at the spot beyond the pine trees. I decide to call him Joe. I know what it feels like to be called by a name you’re not particularly fond of.