Page 89 of Tar City
Sisk glances at me. I look away, staring at a fucking painting on the wall like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Reserved. That’s one word for it.
“I had a thoracoscopic procedure scheduled tonight,” Dad continues. “Minimally invasive, pleural effusion. Had two residents lined up to observe. But when Anne mentioned this dinner… had to cancel.”
Sisk flushes, a deep pink creeping up her neck. “Oh, you really didn’t have to cancel for me?—”
“Jax said he was bringing a girl to dinner and I figured—well, either the sun finally rose in the west or she’s something special.” He says with a grin. “Absolutely had to.” Then he laughs at himself. “Oh, listen to me babbling. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea?”
“Water, please,” Sisk answers.
I watch him disappear into the kitchen. I don’t know whether to be grateful or furious that he’s trying this hard.
Sisk exhales. Her shoulders slump like she’s been holding something in since she stepped through the door. “I think I need a minute, Jax.”
“Let’s go to my room,” I say quickly. “Dinner’s not ready yet.”
She follows me upstairs, her footsteps hesitant on the stairs. I open the door and let her step inside first. She sinks onto the edge of my bed, smoothing her hands over her dress. A small smile plays at her lips, and I have no idea what it means. I sit beside her, close but not touching. The silence feels loaded, but not uncomfortable.
Two minutes later. Knock knock. The door opens a second later, and my dad steps in, holding a glass of water in one hand and a small linen napkin in the other like he’s some kind of butler.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says smoothly, eyes darting between us. “Thought I’d bring this up, in case you didn’t want to come back down just yet.”
Sisk straightens like she’s been caught doing something illicit. “Thank you, Dr. St. Clair.”
He smiles. “Daniel.”
“Daniel,” she corrects softly, taking the glass with both hands. He nods once, steps back into the hallway, and gently closes the door behind him.
Sisk exhales, clutching the glass like it’s the only thing keeping her from floating away and out the window.
We’re left in silence and I realize—this might actually work.
“Look,” I say, moving an inch closer. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured this going down…”
She turns to me, her eyes guarded like a fortress.
“But what you said, back at the restaurant—that you’re not the kind of girl I’d introduce to my family…”
She looks away.
“That’s not true,” I go on. “You are, Sisk.”
She blinks.
“And they’re gonna love you. I mean, my dad’s already ready to write you into the will. Did you see his face?”
She gives me a look that’s half exasperation, half something else. “Jax…”
“I know this isn’t real,” I say, closing the distance between us. “But they think it is. And… I guess I’m glad they do.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Did you plan all this? Just to prove a point?”
“No. Not really.” I hesitate. “But I’m glad I got the chance.”
I lean in, closing the space between us a tad more. She doesn’t move away. “I know you’re going to the Formal with Ivan. I know you’re leaving soon. And I won’t get to…”
I reach out, brushing her hair behind her ear.Somehow, I always seem to end up doing that.“I just needed you to know. You are the kind of girl I’d bring home. You’re the only one I ever have. And…” I pause, forcing the words out. “You’re the only girl I want to take seriously.”
Her eyes search mine—like she doesn’t trust what she’s hearing, like part of her wants to, and the other part wants to bolt. But she doesn’t run; she leans in, and I kiss her. It’s slow, at first as if we’re testing the ice, making sure it won’t crack under our weight. Then her fingers find my hair and I stop caring about anything but this.
