Handle With Care (Shacking Up 5)

She laughs and I laugh too, but we both sound pitchy and weird.

“Um, I know this is odd for both of us, but I was wondering if maybe you wanted to talk about … things. You mentioned having some stuff to share with me.”

“Yeah, I do. I don’t know what your schedule is like. I’m going away for the weekend, but—”

“I know this is short notice, but are you in the city tonight? I met a friend down here, and I thought—”

While we talk, Wren runs to the kitchen and brings me back a glass of water, which I gladly accept since I’ve developed an acute case of cottonmouth. I almost choke mid-sip. “Where are you? We could grab a coffee? Or maybe shots would be a better idea.”

She chuckles again. “I’m in Midtown. Where are you?”

“I’m downtown.” I look at my current attire. I’m wearing holey jogging pants and a stained T-shirt. “I can come to you.”

“Or I could come to you,” Hope offers.

“Do you want to come to my place? Would that be awkward? There’s a restaurant in my building; we could get coffee or shots there since they serve both.”

“It’s only awkward if we make it awkward, right?”

I think I like her already. “Exactly. Want the address?”

“Fire away.”

Once she has the address, we agree that she’ll text when she’s in the lobby.

I think I’m in shock as I end the call. “I’m going to meet my sister, and she seems pretty cool.”

Wren steps between my thighs and settles her palms on my shoulders. “That’s great, babe. I’m so glad she called.”

“Me too.” I jump up, nearly sending her toppling backward. I grab her waist to keep her from falling over. “I need to find something else to wear.” I make sure Wren is steady before I release her, but pause to kiss her before I disappear inside the closet. “Should I wear a suit? I don’t know what to wear.”

Wren appears in the doorway. “It’s not a job interview. You’re meeting your sister; jeans and one of your fun shirts would be reasonable.”

“Okay. Yeah. Good idea.”

Wren helps me pick out jeans and a shirt because I’m incapable, quite literally.

I pass her a brush and let her style my hair because my hands are shaking. “This didn’t feel real until right now. I have a sister, Wren, and I’m about to meet her. I want to like her, but part of me already resents her too.”

She smooths her hands down the sides of my neck. “It’s okay to feel conflicted, Lincoln. You can know it’s not her fault that your dad was so absent from your life and still be upset with her.”

“But she didn’t do anything wrong, so how is that fair?”

“Emotions don’t always take fairness into account, do they? I spent my teens and most of my early twenties blaming my mother for having an affair. I never took into consideration what pushed her to make that choice. Was it a bad one? Definitely, but if she hadn’t made it, I wouldn’t exist and my parents’ marriage may have failed. I assumed my mother saw me as a mistake instead of her salvation.”

“But I kept my dad and Jacqueline apart; I didn’t bring them closer together.”

“You aren’t the reason they were kept apart, Linc. Besides, if Gwendolyn hadn’t done the things she did, you wouldn’t be here and then I wouldn’t have you in my life.”

“I wish it could’ve been different. I wish I could’ve known my dad. If he’d just told me, I wouldn’t have spent my entire life thinking he was a bad father.”

“I know. All the what-ifs are the hardest things to deal with, but I think in meeting Hope, you might get to know him, at least indirectly, and maybe you can stop being so angry at him.”

“I just want some peace.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer, breathing her in. “Will you come with me?”

“Why don’t I wait with you in the lobby, but when she gets here, I’ll come back up to the penthouse and you can message if you need me.”

“Yeah. Okay. That would be good.”

Wren waits with me, as promised, until Hope shows up.

She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. I can see pieces of my father in her face, which means I can also see pieces of myself. It’s pretty surreal.

“Hope?” I approach her, and she looks up from her phone, nervously worrying her lip.

A tentative smile curves the corner of her mouth. “Lincoln?”

“Yeah. Hey, hi.” We both step in awkwardly. I’m unsure if I should shake her hand, or hug her, or what.

We laugh at the same time, so I pull her into a hug, because she’s my sister and she seems a hell of a lot cooler than the stupid asshole brother I grew up with.