Page 95 of Filthy Beautiful
“I know,” she repeated.
“You can’t rush him. I mean, there’s nothing you can do to speed him up. To get him to share it with you—”
She got up abruptly and started gathering our dishes. “Do you want a beer or anything?” she asked me.
“No.” I got to my feet and picked up the pizza boxes. “He won’t play you the new music, Court.” I looked her in the eye until she finally met my gaze. “Not until he’s ready. And that’s got nothing to do with you.”
“I know.”
“It’s not personal,” I told her, just like I’d had to tell myself, so many times. “It’s not about you. It’s about him.”
She nodded.
Then she whispered, “Then why does it hurt so much?”
I opened my mouth to answer that, even though I had no idea what the fuck I would say.
Because he’s an asshole.
Because he’s fucking selfish, and that’s not your fault.
But she turned and left the room before I could say anything.
It wasn’t the first time I’d silently cursed Cary Clarke.
I turned off the TV; had a feeling Courteney wasn’t coming back. When I took the pizza boxes into the kitchen, she was already gone. She’d dumped our dishes into the sink and vanished, probably upstairs to her room.
I put the dishes in the dishwasher, then stood there, staring down the hall that led to the studio door.
Then I headed out to the poolhouse. I pulled out my phone and wrote Cary a text.
Me:You know, you really hurt your sister today.
Then my thumb hovered over the screen for a long time, while I just stared at those words.
But I didn’t send them.
I deleted them, because words like those could only do damage.
* * *
I’d almost fallen asleep when I heard a little tap at my door. Not the front door of the poolhouse. My bedroom door.
I was sprawled on my stomach in bed, and rolled over in the near-dark. The bedroom door was open.
Courteney stood there, with her hand on the doorframe.
In a bikini.
I blinked, willing my eyes to work in the dim light that filtered in through the blinds. The lanterns were on, out by the pool.
“Courteney?” I said, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just going for a midnight swim. I couldn’t sleep, so… Do you want to join me?”
I stared at her for a moment as her words sank in. My gaze skimmed down, more than once. Her bikini was dark, maybe black, and skimpy.
Shit.
