35. Paige
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Paige
I blink three times before finally opening my eyes. There’s no one next to me in bed, but I know I haven’t imagined last night.
Ryan and I had phone sex. Then he came over for real life sex.
I made us frozen pizzas, and we chatted and laughed together.
All those sentences make zero sense, yet they happened, and I had more fun than I had in ages.
Once again, the sex was out of this world.
The way his dirty words flip a switch inside me should be studied.
It was more than that, though. It was raw and honest. It was freeing. It reminded me of traveling, of experiencing new things, of enjoying life. What a sad thought. For over a year now, I’ve lived, but I haven’t felt alive.
I quickly water my plants before getting ready to leave the house.
On my way to Jordan and Emma’s, I grab us each a coffee from the family-owned coffee shop downtown.
Half an hour later, I stand in front of their door, wondering if I should have called before coming.
Having a twin is a unique experience. We’ve shared so much while growing up, it’s sometimes hard to remember she’s her own, separate person.
Still, I hope they’re home this Saturday morning.
I exhale a relieved breath when Jordan answers the door, dressed in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. She shoots me a puzzled look, so I quickly blurt out, “You were right.”
Before she’s able to respond, Emma pops her head behind her, her gaze connecting to the coffee cups in my hands. “Ooh, is that for me?”
“She brought presents,” Jordan says, motioning my head for me to get inside.
I settle on the couch, focusing on the warm paper cup in my hands, when Jordan clears her throat. “You were saying something about me being right?”
I huff out a laugh. “Of course you would focus on that.”
She lifts her hands in surrender, sitting down on the couch next to me. “That’s the only thing you said so far. There’s not much to focus on.”
Emma watches from the chair across from us with rapt attention, her gaze moving from one to the other.
I look down at my fidgeting hands. “You were right. About me avoiding things. Avoiding life.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but care to share how you got to that conclusion?”
“Jordan…” Emma sighs.
“No, she’s right to ask,” I respond. “It’s possible, uhm, that Ryan came over last night.”
Emma gasps loudly, and I glance up just in time to see Jordan’s smirk.
“What happened?” my sister-in-law asks.
For the first time, I share details about my sex-life with my sister and her wife. The words spill out of me, while my gaze is still locked on my hands. Once I’m done, I dare to look at them, both of them staring at me with parted mouths.
“Sorry. Was that too much?”
“What? Too much? That was fucking hot, Paige,” Emma says.
“We’re just surprised, that’s all,” Jordan adds.
“Yeah, I know.” I’m surprised, too.
“So, what’s next?” Emma places her feet beneath her.
“I have no idea. I think we’re having fun or something.”
“Paige having a fuck buddy, what a day.” Jordan shakes her head, wearing a proud smile on her face.
“Or maybe they could be something more than fuck buddies.” Emma sports a hopeful look, one that could only mean danger for me.
My lips purse, and I glare at her. “I don’t think so. I’m nowhere near ready to date.”
“Paige, not everyone is Bradley,” she says in a sympathetic voice.
I roll my eyes at the mention of his name. Yes, he wanted everyone to use his full name—Bradley. It should’ve been my first clue.
“How would you know, Emma? You’ve never dated men.”
“But I have dated people, and men are people, too.”
Jordan and I both wince. I point to my twin’s face, saying, “You see? How can you convince me I should start dating men while making that face?”
“Because we want you to be happy, Paige.” Jordan lets out an exasperated breath. “Is that so hard to understand?”
“But you’re the one thinking this whole thing is a disaster,” I protest.
“Yes, for Dad and Kim. I believe it won’t last. But you and Ryan are a different story. I think he’s a good guy.” She shrugs.
“Pfft. They all look like good guys at first.”
Their expressions turn into ones of pity, and a lump forms in my throat. “Look, Paige,” Emma starts. “What you’ve been through… I can’t even imagine. But what are the chances of the same thing happening again?”
Slim, but never zero. If anyone is going to beat those chances, it’s going to be me.
After all, what are the chances of the guy delivering your indiscreetly packaged sex toys being that fucking hot?
Or him turning out to be your future stepbrother?
What are the chances of masturbating in his room instead of yours?
It’s me. I beat those odds every single time.
I don’t want to beat them again. Moisture forms in the corners of my eyes.
Jordan wraps her hand around mine, obviously noticing my inner turmoil. “Look, I won’t force you into anything…”
“Since when?” I taunt, but my voice lacks bite.
She huffs a laugh. “Since now. And I’m sorry.
I know I’ve pushed you for a while. Maybe you weren’t ready.
” She pats my knee with both our hands, stalling the conversation.
“I won’t romanticize things like Emma”—she glances at her wife—“but I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying yourself again. It’s been too long.”
The tears overflow, my eyes unable to contain them any longer.
A single drop falls on my cheek. I don’t know what to say.
Jordan and I aren’t used to deep, meaningful talks like this.
So I wrap my arms around her neck, letting my actions speak.
She returns the hug, and an indescribable sense of relief washes over me.
We’ve always been there for each other. Even though we didn’t know what to say most of the time, we always knew what to do to make each other feel better.
When we were thirteen, she walked into my room. Without knocking, of course. “I think I like girls,” she told me, her jaw clenched.
Not knowing what to say, I jumped off my bed and hugged her.
Today’s no different.
Clearing my throat, I decide breaking up this pity party would be best. “Martha loved my new piece.”
Emma gasps while Jordan says, “Of course she did.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure if she would, after that whole plant propagating debacle, and the fact that I haven’t fully followed her instructions.”
Jordan lets out a sigh. “Paige, you’re a fucking amazing writer. You’ve been writing shit ever since you knew how to hold a pencil.”
My lips tip up. “I was scared I lost it.”
This time, Emma is the one to speak, “You can’t lose that, Paige. It’s ingrained into your very being. But sometimes we do misplace it.”
“I like that.” Maybe I have misplaced it for a while. Misplaced a big part of myself. Luckily, there’s still time to find it.
Determined to find that missing part of me, I sit down at my laptop as soon as I get home. Words pour out of me, faster than my fingers can type them. Within an hour, I have an entire column written.
I reread it, fixing multiple spelling and punctuation mistakes, while excitement courses through me. I bite my bottom lip to suppress a smile as I reread it for the third time. It’s amazing.
But it feels too personal for the magazine.
Instead of despairing at the loss of time and effort, I click on a new document with a grin on my face.
My keyboard clicks and clacks as I type out a new piece.
Just a few weeks ago, I was so starved for inspiration that writing felt like pulling teeth.
Now, I can type out two columns like nobody’s business.
Funny what a few mind-blowing orgasms can do.