“The guilt?” she muttered. “No, not really.”
Josh dipped his head forward and tried to think of the right thing to say. Nobody was closer to him than Jamie—they’d been best friends and worst enemies growing up, as siblings often were, and by the time they got into adulthood, only the friendship was left behind.
But then he’d gotten sick, and in ways that only a twin could understand, Jamie had blamed herself when she hadn’t been able to fix him.
“You want another pep talk?” he teased. “The one where I tell you all the reasons it wasn’t your fault, and talk realllllly slow like Dad when he’s disappointed?”
Jamie smiled, but it was tight and forced, and his gut tightened when he saw her eyes were watering. “I’m just really glad you’re okay,” she whispered.
“You and me both,” he said. “But it’s your turn to let people fuss over you. Why do you think I came down here to visit?”
“Actually, I’m glad you brought that up,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I’m glad to see you. So glad. But don’t think for one minute that I missed the fact that you have your escape face on.”
Josh blinked. “Am I going to need a drink for this?”
Jamie waved behind her. “Beer in the fridge, booze above the fridge.”
“Shit, so that’s a yes, then,” Josh muttered, going to their liquor cabinet and rummaging around until he came up with some Maker’s Mark bourbon. He poured him himself a healthy serving, added a splash of water, and joined his sister once more at the table.
“I know you’re not going to shut up until you say your piece, so have at it.”
“You’re running from something, and I want to know what.”
“I’m not,” he replied, taking a sip of the strong, bracing drink.
“Please. You know that time you wanted to dump Kelly Nicholson because you liked Valerie what’s her name better, but couldn’t figure out how to tell Kelly? Escape face. Or that time you took Dad’s Cal Ripken–signed baseball to school for show-and-tell and lost it, or the time you broke Grandma’s jewelry box—”
“Jamie. The point.”
“Right, anyway . . . whenever you’re avoiding someone or something, you get this look on your face.”
“A look.”
She nodded. “Yep, like your mouth is kind of tight at the corner and your nose is all flat and your eyes are shifty.”
He could only stare at her. “Is it cool if I record this so later when you’re not pregnant, I can play it back and laugh at you?”
“Oh, did I mention?” she asked, pointing at him. “You also try to change the subject.”
“Yeah well, I can’t imagine why. Having my past faults described in great detail is definitely my idea of a good time.”
“Fair enough,” she said, nodding her head graciously. “Let’s not talk about your past mistakes. Let’s talk about your current ones. I’m sensing a female is involved?”
Josh pretended to look around the kitchen. “Don’t you need your crystal ball for this?”
“Josh!” she said, finally snapping. “Would you talk to me. Please.”
He sighed and took another sip of his drink, hating that she was right, the way that she usually was.
He was avoiding something.
And it was a female.
Josh sighed. “Okay. There’s this girl.”
Jamie smirked but managed to withhold the I knew it.
“She moved in next door a few weeks ago, and we’ve been . . . hanging out.”
“You know, I’m thirty-three just like you. You don’t have to apply a euphemism for sex.”
“Actually it’s not really like that,” he muttered.
“Really,” she said, her interest seeming to increase tenfold as she sat forward, hand resting on her stomach. “This just got interesting.”
“Not interesting so much as frustrating. The attraction is mutual. We both know it. But she’s all wrapped up in her job, and then she’s got this thing with Trevor, and she asks all these annoying questions all the time . . .”
Jamie put a hand to her mouth, but not before he saw the smile.