When they’d tested as many as they could, they’d come back with a mixture of blood, semen, and ‘others.’ I didn’t even want to know what the others were. It was bad enough that they’d found semen in the supposedly sterile glasses wrapped in plastic in the bathrooms—just like the one I’d been drinking out of since we’d gotten there.
Making a gagging gesture, I nodded in agreement.
“I love you more than microorganisms in the sea love organic matter.”
The tone she said ‘organic matter’ in and how she wrinkled her nose made me suspicious.
“Are you talking about poop?”
“And other detritus,” she admitted.
“Exactly how much poop and ‘other detritus’ is in the sea?”
Biting down on her lip, she looked to the side as she thought about her answer. Finally, she answered, “A lot, but the microorganisms eat it all up, so that’s a good thing because it keeps the ecosystem thriving. Plus, poop’s technically seventy-five percent water anyway, so only twenty-five percent of it’s nasty stuff.”
“You guys are so weird,” Marcus muttered, appearing beside us. “Why can’t you just fall in love and say it like normal people?”
“Because we’re two pieces of a puzzle, man. We fit each other perfectly, and this is our way of showing that.” When he didn’t look convinced, I added, “When you finally find your one, you’ll understand what I’m saying.”
Holding his hands up in front of him, he shook his head rapidly. “No way. Nuh-uh. I’m only twenty, and I’m enjoying life just fine as I am. I don’t want to be spouting shit about poop and Luminol stains in hotel rooms.”
Spinning in my arms so she could see him, Sasha launched into what the stains were and described it all graphically to him.
Finally, once she was done, Marcus looked up at me in disgust. “I’m never staying in a hotel or motel again. That’s fucking disgusting.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I kissed Sasha on the top of her head, causing her to tip it back and smile softly up at me.
“You’ll find the person who wants to watch weird programs with you, even though they’re not studying or interested in them. They’ll suddenly have a ton of questions about it all, and you’ll get to share an interest with them that you didn’t think you’d get.
“Then, when you least expect it, they’ll share a nugget of information with you—granted, that puts you off ever swimming in the sea again—and you’ll suddenly want to ask them a hundred questions about it, sharing that unexpected interest of theirs with them, too. That’s how love works.”
“Dude,” Marcus growled. “I own a stud ranch. Its main focus is breeding horses and shipping out equine semen for other horses to be inseminated with.”
Sasha gasped, and I just knew what was going to happen. “Oh shit, I forgot about that. That’s so freaking cool. Hey, how often do you get the stallions to mate? Could they do it every day of the year? How do you decide on compatibility? What about genetic diseases—how do you find them? How do you get the semen from the stallion? Isn’t it a bit weird?”
The questions were fired out rapidly at him, making my twin take a step away from us and look up at me in surprise.
At least, that’s what I thought he was looking at me in, but then I narrowed my eyes at the question on his face.
“Don’t even go there,” I snapped, holding her closer to me. “She’s mine.”
Shaking his head, he turned to walk away but stopped after three steps and glared over his shoulder at us. “Thanks for that. Now I want someone who’ll ask me questions and that I can share my work or ideas with. You guys suck.”
“You can’t just suddenly want something you didn’t want only minutes before purely because of questions,” Sasha pointed out.
“No,” he agreed with a sigh. “But then I saw how happy he was that you were taking an interest in my life and added it onto how happy he is when he’s with you. That’s what made it all click for me.”
And with that, he walked back over to where his best friend was now holding our niece, looking terrified as he cradled her tiny body in his massive arms.
“I hope he finds her,” Sasha murmured.
“He will. Elijah found Sadie, and I found you. It happens when you least expect it.”
“A bit like shit,” she mused, going back to our previous conversation and making me shudder again.
“If you ever want me to get back in the sea, you’ll never mention poop and microorganisms again.”
Turning back to face me, she tipped her head back and grinned widely at me, her riot of curls spilling over my arms and tickling them.
“Hey, I’ve got the mental image of lying on semen or blood stains when we drive home. We all have to put up with things that skeeze us out.”