Page 19 of Deliverance

If someone wants to pretend like something didn’t happen, I’m happy to oblige. Let’s just get on with it, though.

“You know what I’m talking about,” she snaps.

I shrug. “I was really high last night. Everything is a little hazy, but if we kissed, no big deal. Your secret is safe with me.”

“You don’t remember it?” she asks, a hint of disappointment found in her tone.

“Do you want me to?” I ask.

“No, of course not,” Bridgette hisses.

Shrugging again, I nod. “Well, there you go.”

She stares at me like she’s waiting for the but. Like I couldn’t be this agreeable. What, did she think we’d kiss one time, and I’d be desperate for more? There are plenty of fish in the sea and yes, she is a very pretty one, but there are many more just like her. Ones that aren’t my stepsister. Ones that aren’t a high maintenance brat.

“Okay,” she says slowly.

I nod as I slip past her towards the door, just barely cracking it as I turn to speak.

“Oh, just so you know, because I’ve been down this road before, I won’t make the first move again. You’ll have to come to me.”

She gapes at me like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard of as she shakes her head.

“You’re insane! Why would I ever…don’t be stupid…Me wanting you? I?—”

I hold my hands up in defense. “Just letting you know.”

With that, I head back for the kitchen to find Brad face first in the omelet I made for him.

“Good?” I ask with a smile.

“So fucking good. I think I’m in love with you.”

I laugh at that. “I’m in love with you, platonically.”

“Shit, that’s right. I need to get you five hundred bucks,” he says like he’s just remembering it.

Snickering, I laugh as I begin making an omelet for myself. Straight guys are so weird with lesbian women. I’ve learned to just roll with it, but my god, I think they are hornier for us than straight women.

* * *

Bridgette ended up making up some excuse to leave the house a few minutes later, and Brad and I decide to do what he called a little sibling bonding. We went to the beach, got some lunch and he tried and failed to convince me to go to a strip club. Again, straight guys are so fucking weird. Who goes to a strip club on a Thursday at two in the afternoon?

Once we got back to the house, we split off; him heading out to meet up with some friends and me checking on how my candles are cured before ordering in. It’s so funny to me that I’m happy to make breakfast every single morning, but the idea of cooking dinner feels like such a chore. I could probably buy a house of my own in six months with the amount of money I spend on takeout. Well, that and the fat inheritance my father left me, but since I refuse to touch it, takeout money might just do the trick.

I end up watching a few movies in bed and am just about to fall asleep when the front door opens. I hear stumbling before the sound of something breaking. Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. Brad came home a few hours ago, which means it can only be one person, and clearly that one person is drunk.

Trying to focus on the main character outrunning a brain hungry zombie, my attempt is wasted when my bedroom door is suddenly thrown open.

“Bridgette, what the fuck?” I snap.

She’s wearing a skintight blue mini dress and a jacket that she drops onto the floor instantly with a giggle.

“Shhh, you’re gonna wake my brother.”

I lift an unimpressed brow.

“No,you’regonna wake your brother.” I scoff as I turn to face the show.