Love Sex & Other Games: Part 3 by Cheryl McIntyre Page A

with that thought comes a hundred more racing through my mind.
    “I loved you first,” Rosie utters. Though I haven’t taken my eyes off her, I stopped seeing her, lost inside my head. That one sentence slams her back into focus with startling clarity.
    “You loved me first before what?” I have no clue why this is the question I give voice to. But I’m curious. She loved me first. Before I loved her? Before she loved my brother?
    I realize I should probably spend more time on the fact that she said she loved me. It’s like a wall, stopping that part from fully reaching me. Because I can’t allow it inside. I can’t…
    I just can’t.
    She shakes her head as if searching for the right words. “Before I ever loved anyone. Before I understood what love even was. Before I thought it was unreciprocated and you left for college and I assumed I would be alone for the rest of my life if I didn’t give someone else a chance.” She closes her eyes, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Before I loved Miles.”
    My hands form fists at my sides. There’s this thing—this feeling I have no words for—raging in the pit of my stomach and rolling through my veins. I think I’m sorry for the wasted time and missed opportunities. Pissed at myself for never having told her how I felt until the day she married my brother. Saddened that she never told me either. Shocked she’s telling me now. Disappointed. And even more surprised I’m not disappointed in the way I would have expected to be had I ever expected this day to come.
    Which I didn’t.
    “That’s all before,” I say.
    Her head shifts from side-to-side in a quick jerk, her hair sweeping the tops of her shoulders with the motion. “Not all. I still feel the same. I still love you, Cooper.”
    “But you love my brother.”
    She swallows and if the rain wasn’t coming down so hard, I think I’d be able to hear it, it’s that forceful. “I love you both.”
    And this is where that disappointment really settles in. Because this isn’t the Rosie I’ve loved all these years. Or maybe it was and I just didn’t know it. Maybe I loved what I thought Rosie was. Fun, smart, sweet. Loyal .
    Love doesn’t work that way. Does it? People can’t love more than one person. Not at the same time. Because if they did—if they really, truly loved the first person—how could they even notice the other one?
    I didn’t notice Em until I let Rosie go. And I did. I let her go .
    “Rosie,” I say softly. “I will always care about you and I appreciate you telling me, I really do…”
    “I sense there’s a but coming.” She laughs, but as much as she tries, there’s no humor in it.
    “But,” I agree, “you’re married to my brother. You’re my sister-in-law. That’s all you can ever be. And…” I press my lips together, loosening my fists.
    “And?” she prompts, her voice weak.
    I drag my fingers through my hair and let my eyes meet hers. “I caught feelings for your sister.”
     
     
    ~*~
     
     
    Emerson
     
     
    The rain is pouring down in sheets. I have to crank my wipers to the highest speed and jack up my defrost in order to see. Maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea. I’m pretty sure I already look like a drenched rat just from the trip from my front door to the car. I almost consider turning around, but I’ve already come this far. I’ll be damned if I’m cold and wet for no reason.
    I’m sure Cooper will have very interesting ideas of how to warm me up.
    When he didn’t respond to my last text, I interpreted that as a challenge. Or his way of leaving it up to me. That’s what he often does now—lets me set the pace in our relationship. Which is both nice and frustrating.
    So after staring outside at the storm, playing devil’s advocate with myself for less than sixty seconds, I decided I’d listen to my gut and go for it.
    I glance at my overnight bag sitting on the seat beside me, filled with a change of clothes, basic toiletries, and makeup.