by Alyne Robers
The pain and tremble in her voice breaks my heart because only she has that power. My body loses the tension and my shoulders slump. I look at my identical twin and notice the exhaustion in her eyes, the dark circles, and the apology on her face.
She's being eaten alive from the inside out. London always remembered every bad night, every drunken word, every time we hid in the closet. She was the one who made sure we made it out. I let her carry us because I believed that was a big part of who she was. I let her carry too much, and it's breaking her.
Moments ago, I was so angry with her for breaking out of our norm. The careful balance that made us tick was thrown off and I hated it. I was selfish to see only how that affected me. I didn't see that taking that weight was hurting the only person in the world that I loved.
"I'm a huge bitch," I admit.
London laughs, but I hear the tears behind it. My throat gets tight to see her eyes water over with tears. I promised her when we were six years old that I would never make her cry, and I wouldn't let anyone else get away with it either. Only our father would do that.
I rush to my sister, wrapping my arms around her. We collapse to the floor and I hold her tightly as the tears are ripped from inside her. Running my fingers through her hair, I let her cry on my shoulder. Guilt eats at me, and I feel like a terrible sister.
I was upset about the cleaning but, to London, that wasn't the point. It went deeper than that. London is a deep and endless ocean. I'm the shallow puddle that stands in the way.
Soon, London relaxes and dries her face. We might be tangled on the floor of our cheap and crappy apartment, but we are together and it's ours. We are safe.
"You're not a bitch," London says with a sniffle.
"I kinda am. It's okay to admit it." She is the only person who can without earning a black eye for it.
"I think you just need some of this."
London grabs a grocery bag from the counter. She dumps the contents on the floor. It's tampons, pain reliever, three tubs of ice cream. It's always three ice creams. One for each of us and one to share.
"Only you would be organized enough to know when we PMS," I say, already digging for a spoon.
"You don't have it on your phone?" London looks honestly surprised.
"Of course not. I like surprises."
We laugh and the tension is lighter, but it hasn't vanished. I feel something lingering over us, but I don't know what. Secrets? Resentment? Mood swing?
We curl up on the couch to eat ice cream and watch trashy TV. It's strangely quiet between us. I haven't told her about Miles yet. I don't know what to say or how she will react. I'm not even sure of my own reaction yet. I spent most of the day trying to avoid thinking about it.
Miles kissed me before and quickly said it meant nothing. We buried it and pretended it never happened. Somehow, I doubt that is happening this time around. There was something in his eyes that promised more.
"Are you going to be Kane's date for his brother's wedding this weekend?" London asks.
"No," I blurt. "It's over with us."
London nods and shoves another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.
"You're photographing the wedding, aren't you?"
"Yeah. It should be a beautiful wedding."
I agree, but I let the silence fill the space between us again. This is my chance to tell her everything she is missing. I could tell her about the fight with Kane. I should tell her about the song Miles sang. I want to ask her about all the feelings it forced on my normal numb self. She could probably help me understand it.
But instead, I don't tell her these things. I keep it to myself, and I don't ask her to tell me what is bothering her. There's an invisible wedge between us, and I don't know how it got there or how to remove it.
TWENTY-ONE
London
I've checked my equipment eleven times. I realize that's an odd number so I check it again. I've done dozens of wedding but this one makes me nervous. Mostly because Kane makes me nervous. When he's around me, he draws my attention. He makes me feel like someone else.
"You’ve got this," I say to myself in the mirror. I look less than convinced but it will have to do.
I load my equipment and drive to the chapel where the wedding will take place. I arrive early, so I take some time photographing the vaulted ceiling, antique pews and stained glass windows before the room fills with people.
I watch from the windows as the bridal party arrives in limos. The men are in one and the girls in another with makeup and hair stylist. The girls will be getting ready upstairs while I get pictures with the men since they will be ready in about five or ten minutes. I snap a few shots of Jason kissing Amanda before they part ways to get ready.
Soon, I find myself in the basement of the chapel with six very handsome men. I trip over my own feet when I see Kane in a tux for the first time. The black jacket clings to his wide shoulders. He didn't shave but he looks clean and still edgy. It's hard to get lost in my work when he is every frame.
The excitement is contagious, and I laugh through most of the hour I spend with them. If I'm not laughing, I'm smiling at Kane from behind the camera. His eyes seem to bore through it, watching me. There's a glint in his eyes like we share a secret, because we do.
I leave the men just in time to photograph the bride and her party getting ready. I capture the moment Jason's parents see her for the first time. I almost shed a tear when Jason's dad gets ready to give her away. He stepped in since Amanda didn't have her own father to give her away. I can't help but think I won't have my own dad to give me away if my day ever comes.
The ceremony goes perfectly. Then I go through my least favorite part of getting photos with the family. It's organized and tedious, broken up every few minutes to swap out subjects. Under the hot sun, I work as quickly as possible so I can get in the limo. We take photos at a park with the bridal party, and I spend most of the time with the newlyweds.
My feet are killing me by the time we get to the hall for the reception. I'm met with flashing lights and air conditioning as I enter behind the party. This is easy part of weddings. I'm good at becoming invisible and weaving through the crowd unnoticed. After the speeches, that is exactly what I do.
The hours pass in a blur as I click away. It's fascinating the way people interact when they love and care for each other. My inexperience with that is probably what inspires my love for wedding photography. Unconditional love and acceptance are bred at events like this.
"Dance with me," I hear in my ear. I don't need to turn around to know Kane is behind me.
"I'm working."
"Take a break."
Kane reaches around me from behind and lowers my camera away from my face. I don't fight him as he lifts the strap from around my neck and hands it off to a server. Placing both hands on my shoulders, he slowly turns me to finally face him.
"You look very pretty," he tells me. I'm distracted by the way he is looking down at me and how his large hands feel on my body.
I'm led to the center of the dance floor, and I look around at everyone dancing. I feel like the help mingling outside of her quarters. I don't belong here. I can't even dance. I try to get off the dance floor, but Kane pulls me back in to him.
"I asked you once how to tell you two apart," Kane says in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"I think I told you that you don’t."
"I think I figured it out," Kane says as he moves my body with his.
"Is it by my obvious lack of dancing skills?"
Kane laughs, and I feel it flutter across my face. The song changes to a slower song, and he pulls me flush against his body. People might be staring at the girl totally out of her league with Kane, but I don't notice. I'm sucked in by his smell and the warmth of his chest on mine.
"It's by the way you walk. Graceful and careful, without the arrogance. It's with your carefully chosen words, thought out and rarely cussing. The way you watch the world, looking for the beau
ty or the goodness. You see the details that everyone else glazes over and misses."
I'm surprised by the few differences that Kane found in such a short time. Most of our friends back home never noticed.
"You have a wall built around yourself, too, but you let people in and keep them safe behind your walls. When you look at me, you are hesitant and nervous, but also intrigued."
I'm spinning and not just mentally but physically across the dance floor as Kane leads us. The music is loud but I hear every softly spoken word. I tighten my grip on his jacket to ground myself like I might float away.
"When you kiss," he says, his lips hovering over mine. "You kiss like you're memorizing every second of it, taking it in and feeling it. All of it. Because it's not the contact that you crave. It's the passion and reason behind that contact that keeps you from pushing me away."
Kane's lips seal over mine, solidifying his whispered words. One hand is firm on my lower back while the other wraps around the back of neck. I feel exposed and raw in his arms after he tore apart my layers. He's not here because he thinks I'm Brooklyn or because I'm acting like a different version of London. I'm the London that I am when no one is looking.
The song bleeds into the next but we don't miss a step. Kane moves us effortlessly across the floor while kissing me. His lips are firm as they control mine and I forget where we are. The guilt over lying to my sister or the worry of being on a job melt away as I'm overwhelmed with Kane's taste.
"Come to my room," he says in my ear, biting my earlobe. I shiver against him. "Stay the night with me."
This is one of those moments that never happen to me. It's spontaneous and reckless. I'm dazed and needy for him and it feels like that's all that matters. There are a thousand reasons I should say no and head home. There's a thousand more why I shouldn't have gotten in the position in the first place.
But I'm chasing a dream here. For so long, I wanted fire and passion. I wanted to feel so much that nothing else mattered. I wanted to act because I wanted to and damn the consequences or anyone else. This feeling is too good to let go. Kane licks and kisses down my neck and I nod against him in answer.
I'm spun around and pulled from the room instantly. We push past the last few guests and bored servers. I'm lucky I wore flats or I would trip trying to keep up with Kane's speed. His long legs eat up the distance and soon we are in the elegantly decorated lobby of the hotel. It's quiet except for the faint classical music playing.
Kane pulls me down a hall to the elevators and pushes me against a wall. The impact of hitting the wall is intensified with his body slamming into mine. It's not gentle or soft the way he pins me there and runs his hands up my hips and over my ribs, drifting over the sides of my breasts. He's getting impatient and desperate.
The elevator rings next to us and the doors open. I didn't even notice him hitting the button. Kane pulls away and looks down at me questioningly. I'm breathing heavily and my heart is racing. When he moves me to the elevator, I don't resist. I'm wrapped up and drugged by the way he makes me feel.
In the elevator, his hand holds my thigh and I wrap my leg around his waist. I have no idea how much time we have and I actually don't care. His long fingers trace over my thigh and between my legs. I tilt my head back and gasp when he runs them over the thin material of my panties.
"Fuck, London," he growls. "So fucking wet already."
He grinds into me and catches my moan with his lips. The doors slide open and I'm dropped to my feet and rushed out. Kane opens a door down the hall and ushers me inside quickly. My knees are weak and my hands are aching to touch him. As soon as the door closes, I am pulling at his jacket. I shove it over his shoulders and start on the buttons.
"I thought about this since I first saw you on that photo shoot," he admits as he removes his shirt.
I run my fingers over the firm muscles of his chest and stomach. I wonder what he sees in me. I'm shy and mousy. Average looking.
I don't have much time to wonder because I'm lifted in his arms. With my legs around him, our lips fight each other as he walks us across the room. He sets me down on a cold, hard surface, knocking over a vase that falls to the floor and breaks. Kane pulls back, grabbing the hem of my dress. I'm sitting on a small table, windows overlooking the ocean behind my back.
The room is dim but I can make out Kane's dark eyes and he slowly lifts the dress over my body and tosses it to the floor. When he's looking at me like that, I don't care if anyone can see or about the broken glass below us. I just need everything he is promising in that look.
Reaching behind me, I undo the clasp of my strapless bra and toss it with my dress. Kane reaches for the skinny strap of my panties and pulls until they break off me. When he drops them, I'm sure I'm getting the table wet beneath me. This is the most erotic and hottest moment of my life.
Kane drops to his knees and licks between my legs. I moan so loud I'm sure neighbors can hear. I press my back to the cold glass as he rests my feet on his shoulders. My legs are shaking around his head, and it's so intense, I try to squirm away. Kane doesn't let me, grabbing my hips and pulling me back to his hungry mouth.
He nips and licks at me like he's starved. It's the first time anyone has eaten me out, and I would be freaking out if I didn't need it so badly. His tongue is soft but firm against me.
"Fuck. Kane," I moan loudly before I clamp my legs down on his head while I come. The orgasm is intense and unlike any I ever had before. It rolls through my body forcefully.
He continues to lick and suck until I can't take it anymore and I’m begging him to stop. Kane stands and has his pants down in record time. I stare at his cock, hard and long in his hand as he rolls a condom on. He steps between my legs, rubbing it over my clit, releasing aftershocks of pleasure.
"I love how you sound screaming my name," he says as he pushes against me.
I dig my nails into his shoulders as he pushes slowly inside me. Kane distracts me from the pain of taking all of his size by sucking on my nipples. I'm already close to coming again by the time he's deep inside of me.
"Fuck," he curses, resting his forehead on mine. There's a thin layer of sweat over both of our bodies.
"Please," I beg.
That's all it takes. Kane pulls out and slams back into me. I scream with the mixture of pleasure and pain. He's banging me against the window as I shout his name. I feel sexy, wanted and freer than I ever have. I have no restraint or reservations. Every action and reaction is a response to what I feel right this second. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I come again in a mess of shouted curses and trembling limbs. Kane is right behind me, biting lightly on my neck then licking away the mark. We don't move for a while, panting, sweaty, and exhausted. My legs are weak, and I'm sore from the roughness, but it's a satisfying pain.
"You okay?" Kane asks, pulling away and helping me off the table.
"I'm great."
I stand awkwardly for a moment before going toward my dress. Is this the time that I leave? Does he walk me downstairs? I'm never in this situation to know how things work. Right before I grab my crumbled dress off the carpet, Kane grabs my hand.
"Are you leaving?"
"Should I?"
Kane pulls me closer and brushes the hair off my face. He seems to be contemplating his answer.
"We never do as we should," he finally says. "I can't seem to stay away from you, no matter how hard I try."
"Then don't."
Kane kisses me again and I leave the dress on the floor. Maybe one day I will need to face the consequences for this, but not tonight.
TWENTY-TWO
Brooklyn
"Are you doing the walk of shame?"
London freezes, mid-step. She's wearing the dress she left in yesterday for the wedding. Her hair is messy, makeup smudged, and she has a tuxedo jacket over her shoulders.
It's almost comical how reversed the roles are right now. I woke up early and took a run, finished laundry, and have been waiting fo
r London for hours now.
"You look thoroughly fucked," I tease. "You little hussy."
"I, uh, didn't think you would be up," she stammers. Her face goes beet red.
"I’m glad I was because I wouldn't want to miss this. Who were you with?" I get up to follow her as she tries to flee to her bedroom.
"Some guy from the wedding," she finally says.
She's lying. I know she is. I can feel it in my bones. We can always read each other, so it's almost pointless to even try to lie. But she is.
I don't call her out on it. It just gets added to the other lies and secrets we've recently accumulated between us. It's all just shoved in the corner, and we pretend we don't see it. We just ignore it.
But now they are piling up, and soon we won't be able to ignore the lump of deceit. It's taking on its own shape now. It's growing, taking up more space. We can almost reach out to touch it. It has its own color and texture. It is materializing right before our eyes, and we still pretend we don't see it.
"Go you," I say with a grin. She probably sees it's fake. "How was it?"
It's the mandatory girl talk. The conversation we've never really had before because London has never done anything as spontaneous and reckless as a one night stand. She's been acting so out of character lately, but I'm trying to be supportive. What I really want to do is jump on her with questions and pull out the reasons for this sudden change.
Instead, I sit on her bed while she gets ready to wash the night away in the shower.
"It was—" she pauses, searching for the right words—"fun."
"Fun?" She could have said amazing, terrible, hot or even mind-blowing. I wasn't expecting the word 'fun'.
"Yeah. I did something totally crazy and I loved it. It was fun."
London leaves the room like she had just told me about a day at the park. No biggie. I sit there, stunned. I have so many questions and for the first time in my life, I don't think she will give them to me honestly. I pick up the jacket she left on the bed. She would need to return it at some point, right?