Wicked Honey (18+)

Chapter 13

My sister and I had never been all that affectionate.

I blamed our upbringing. With our mother always gone, usually working, we never really grew accustomed to hugs and kisses on the cheek and "I love you's". And now, it seemed like those things really only made us uncomfortable.

So I wasn't surprised when my sister marched up the steps and walked right past me into the house. Her heels click against the hardwood as she brushes past me. I watch as she gives the house a good once over, adjusting her perfect bronze hair over her shoulder. She's just gotten off work. I can tell by the uniform.

Meg was a flight attendant and she loved it. Traveling everywhere all the time. She never said no to a flight. Even to a few states away. She adored her job. There was a time that I was considering quitting mine to join her. But to be honest, I just wasn't as adventurous as her, not in the way she wanted and I knew I'd slow her down. It was better that I was just here when she returned. She could tell me about all her stories over our Monday lunches and I could listen.

"Where'd you go?" I ask, breaking the silence. Her green eyes land on me. So scrutinizing.

"Miami," Meg looks around the massive living room again. "Looks like I wasn't the only one living it up." I expected her voice to be patronizing. But it's not. She actually sounds amused. So much so that I let out a breath of relief.

"Not even close," I grumble. "Cmon." I nod my head to the staircase and her heels click as she follows me. We make it to my room and I push the door open. Meg let's out a whistle.

"Damn," She hums. "Can I do whatever you did?" Meg runs her fingers over the plush black comforter and looks around the large room. Eyes narrowing on the huge flatscreen across from the bed.

I wonder if Meg would've done what I did if she ran across the farm on her own. Meg and I had inherited the same amount from my parents. They're entire estate was split into two and handed over to us. The accounts were moved into our names, where they sat, untouched. Well until a few weeks ago, that is. Neither of us really felt right about using the money for ourselves. We had donated a lot. We still do. And we invested some of it. But for the most part, the money sits, and we work as if it's not there. As if we couldn't quit tomorrow and live a very wealthy life from home. Maybe that was our mothers dream, especially after everything we went through, but it certainly wasn't ours.

"I did a really fucking dumb thing, Meg." I tell her. She sits on edge of the bed, eyeing me like she almost doesn't believe me. I couldn't blame her, I lived a very boring life. I had become painfully predictable.

Finally, Meg shrugs. "Can't be worse than your ex-boyfriend. I mean he was_" I groan interrupting her. She would never let me live Carson down. Never.

"We can't all be perfectly gay, Meg." I try not to smile but I can't stop it. She tilts her head back and laughs.

"No," She looks down at her hands, covered in silver rings. Really the only giveaway in her uniform- well that and the undercut but you can't see it with her hair down. "No, we can't. I'm clearly just gifted."

Meg knew by the time she was 10 that she wasn't ever going to be interested in boys. It was always pretty clear. She had friends that were boys but it never went any further than that. And she never wanted it to. But she was fantastic with women. I'd been to plenty of gay bars with her- she was shameless. And while I wasn't opposed to being with a woman myself, I still preferred men. Something about the roughness of a man had always been a weakness for me.

"So are you going to explain why a dark van without a license plate picked me up in the middle of nowhere and dropped me off at the mansion you're staying in?" She leaned back into the bed, kicking her heals off onto the floor.

"If I tell you, then you'll get wrapped up in this too." I groan, walking and collapsing onto the other side of the bed. She looks over at me and raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to go on. I sit up. "Let's say hypothetically, I got involved in some sort of investigation... and now I'm stuck here until the investigation... simmers down."

Meg snorts. "That's still incredibly vague, V."

"I know," I nod. "But it's better that way."

She purses her lips. "I'd also like to point out that I'm smart enough to know that nobody on a cops salary lives in a place like this."

"I know you are," I roll my eyes at her. "I never doubted that."

The silence grows between us for a few minutes. She's still looking around the room like maybe the answer to all this is painted in fine print on the walls. And maybe it is- because she speaks again. "How hot is he?"

I try to hide my shock. "He's not- I mean he_"Meg laughs at my stuttering and clear discomfort. I glare at her and smack her knee. She just rolls her eyes and shoves my shoulder. "How is Amber?"

Meg stops laughing. Her face growing serious in a matter of seconds. Amber was Meg's best friend. Meg had been hopelessly in love with her for as long as I could remember. And even after Amber came out as bi, Meg still never made a move.

I pestered her about it many times. But over the years I brought it up less and less. Meg had only grown more and more hostile about it anyways.

"She's fine." Meg shrugs. "She started that new job at the art studio and she loves it."

"Yeah?" I ask, trying to press for more information but knowing I likely won't get any.
She shrugs again, absentmindedly looking down at her nails. The moment- if there even was one- was done. And she'd closed up again. I shouldn't have asked. But I thought maybe she'd be different. Clearly, that was a mistake. "I'm sorry." I say.

She forces a smile. "It's okay, I should go anyways." she reaches for her black heels. Tugging them on she says, "I assume this was a one time thing?" I nod. She nods back.

"Also," I say sheepishly. "It's going to be another 2 weeks." She gives me a knowing but nasty look. "There was a bit of a bump in the... investigation."

"Right," she nods. "Just call me okay, asshole? I love you." She starts to walk out the door without waiting for a reply. I have to assume that car is still waiting for her.

"I love you too" I call after her.

If she hears me, she doesn't acknowledge it as she walks out the door.