Page 5 of Willa

David

That shared smile sends a zip up my spine. It brings back memories of when we were younger, before That Night. Back then, I thought we were all friends. When I was in high school, Willa was interesting, but too young for me to even consider.

Each holiday when I came home from college, I noticed changes. But I noticed changes in Andie too, so I wrote them off. Now, as I look back, I realize that the changes I noticed were different. Like the winter the girls were seventeen and Andie kept trying to set Willa up with friends of her boyfriend.

I’d been firmly on Willa’s side. I’d told myself I was simply being a good friend, a pseudo big brother. But over the last four years, I’ve examined things from every angle, wondering if I could have handled things differently. In a way, that would have ended better. Or rather, in a way that wouldn’t have ended things at all.

When I defended Willa so staunchly that winter, I don’t think my motives were as altruistic as I pretend they were. Even then, the thought of some guy trying to get into Willa’s pants had brought a haze of red to the edges of my vision. Why didn’t it ping that I was being more protective of her than of my own sister?

And then she’d offered herself up to me on a silver platter. I clear my throat and shift in my seat. The sight of Willa in nothing but a lacy bra and panty set is burned into my brain as surely as if she branded me like a cow.

I can’t bring myself to regret allowing her to grow up a little before having sex. I do regret that my mind was so focused on who she was and how much I wanted her that I handled the situation poorly. And now that she is grown up, will she give me another chance?

It doesn’t escape my attention that Willa has ordered the cheapest entrée on the menu. When our server comes, I order the cheese plate, marinated olives, and shrimp as appetizers for the table. I want Willa to try everything I love.

She sticks with her selection. Since I’m sure they’re both things she wants to try and will love, I don’t argue. Instead, I order the goat cheese salad and the signature steak, Steak Bouchon, and a bottle of wine for the table.

“Have you visited France?” I ask Willa. “Put your French to use?”

“She used her French when we went to Canada,” Andie says.

“When did you go to Canada?”

“Last Christmas break,” Andie says.

My gaze snaps to Willa. Her eyes are cast down to the table where she toys with her silverware. When I came home for holidays throughout college, Willa was still a fixture in my family home and all my memories.

Over the last four years, while the girls have been in college, it was just Andie at home and that was only two out of the four years. It seemed every other year, my sister was on holiday with Willa or Willa and her family. Was it really all because of me?

“Remember Jean-Luc?” Andie says as she shoulder bumps Willa.

“Who’s Jean-Luc?”

I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth, especially when I see my sister’s triumphant grin.

“Oh, he fell madly in love with Willa.”

“No, he didn’t,” Willa grumbles, but that only makes me more certain that the story is true.

“And no matter how much I tried to get his attention on me — to save Willa, of course — he only had heart eyes for her.”

“You’re embarrassing Willa,” I say.

“Willa doesn’t realize how she leaves a trail of broken hearts in her wake. She’s humble like that.”

I clench my jaw as I wonder what my sister is up to, because her narrowed-eyed look leaves me with no doubt that she’s up to something. I have a feeling it’s waving her best friend in front of my face and snatching her away as punishment for me trying to do the right thing. I shake my head at her. Not this time, Andie.

It’s a little like being on a date with my sister as a chaperone. Every time I try to get Willa to open up and talk, Andie answers for her. As soon as Willa excuses herself to the restroom, I’m ready to throttle my sister, but the little brat follows Willa to the bathroom.

By the time we return to my condo, I’m ready to pack my sister up and send her home — alone.

“Andie,” I call as she and Willa head to their room. “I need to speak to you in my office.”

My sister gives Willa a look before nodding. Her shoulders sag as she walks with me down the hall.

“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” she asks as I close the door.

“I don’t know. Why is that?”