Love Sex & Other Games (Part 2) Final Chapter Recap
Cooper
It’s raining as I reluctantly drive home. Em has school in the morning and I have to work, so we decided to adult and get to bed early. This is, of course, after a round of the best game of chess I have ever played, and an episode of Daredevil, in which I found out more about what makes Emerson moan than I did about what Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson were doing to clean up Hell’s Kitchen.
That’s okay, though. That just means we’ll need to watch it again.
I smile, cutting the ignition. I need to Google the founders of chess and Netflix and send those people a huge muffin basket of appreciation. Because of them, I just had one of the best evenings of my life.
Chess . Who knew?
I duck my head and make a run for my door. The rain is falling hard, pelting against my skin in ice-cold drops. My fingers are slow to get the key in the lock, but I manage on the third try.
Inside, I move through the house, shucking my wet layers as I go—jacket, t-shirt, shoes. As I set my phone on the nightstand, it beeps, alerting me to a text. I grin at the screen when I see it’s from Em. The chess queen.
Her: I can’t sleep.
Me: Probably because you haven’t tried. I left ten minutes ago.
Em: Remind me again why you did that?
Me: Because we’re adulting.
Her: Adulting sucks.
Me: I whole-heartedly second that.
Her: If I showed up at your door right now, what are the chances you’d turn me away in favor of adulting?
Zero.
There is a zero percent chance I’d turn her away. Being responsible is not nearly as fun as making her come. Sleep is overrated anyway—at least when compared to having orgasms. I’m about to tell her that when my doorbell rings. Oh, thank god . I drop my phone on my bed and hurry to the door. She’s probably soaking wet and I cannot wait to strip her down and lick the raindrops from her skin. Maybe I’ll warm her up in the shower. And then in my bed. But I am definitely going down on her.
My cock is already hard with the thought as I pull the door open. I blink several times, confused. It takes my lust-hazed mind longer than normal to comprehend my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me.
That it is, in fact, Roselyn Metz—no, Roselyn Fitzpatrick—standing on my stoop, umbrella in hand.
I don’t move, instead rooted solidly in place, still confused. I peer past her, looking for Em. Why would Ems bring Rosie?
She wouldn’t.
She wouldn’t bring Rosie to my place.
What the hell is going on?
“I need to know if I screwed up.” Roselyn says. The strain in her voice snaps my attention back to her.
“What?”
“I think I might have made a mistake.”
He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began. ~Leo Tolstoy
THE OLDER SISTER
Cooper
I need to know if I screwed up .
I think I might have made a mistake.
I replay Rosie’s words in my head on a loop. Nothing has ever killed an erection quicker.
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here, staring at her, and trying to make sense out of what she said. And why she’s here. And how this came to be. Questions I can’t seem to articulate.
“Can I…?” Rosie trails off, stepping through the doorway and dropping her umbrella to the floor.
I back up until my ass is resting on the back of the couch, still gaping at her. I refuse to jump to conclusions, so I need her to keep going. To explain, in detail, exactly why she’s at my house at nearly eleven o’clock at night, in the middle of a storm—and not at home with my brother.
She takes a moment to smooth her hair, then her shirt, her eyes moving around the room, looking everywhere except at me. I watch her take a long breath, and I know she’s summoning the courage to say whatever it is she came here to tell me. My heart hammers in my chest. In my head. In my veins.
I don’t know if I want to hear this.
And
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