Stella returned late Sunday afternoon, only to be greeted by a menacing scowl from Delia.

"Wow, what crawled up your ass to put you in such a foul mood?" Stella asked, dropping her baggage onto the couch next to her sister.

"You! Why the hell don't you answer your phone or respond to any messages?"

"Uh, I was busy?"

Delia rolled her eyes. "Did you at least stay in contact with Jake?"

"Jake?" Stella shrugged. "No, like I said, I was busy. Speaking of which, how was the party? Oh, and the exhibit?"

"Fine. I would have thought you would've at least texted him or something."

"D, did something happen?"

Delia flushed and shifted nervously in her seat.
"No, other than a rather annoying bitch who said we should stay away from Jake but-"

"What? No way! Who?" Stella shoved her baggage to the floor and sat down next to Delia.

"His benefactor. Mrs. Sarah Cartridge."

"Ah, Sarah. Yes, I met her at the exhibit we all went to."

"You did?"

Stella nodded. "Yes, don't worry about her. She's just protecting her investment. I heard she has spent quite a fortune on Jake."

"Oh."

"But nothing else happened?" Stella narrowed her eyes, studying Delia's face.

"No," Delia croaked, focusing on the laptop screen in her lap.

"Okay," Stella said, though she didn't sound convinced. If anything, Delia was guilty of something. "I am going to take a long, hot bubble bath and then get ready for Jake. He's coming over later."

"What?" Delia swallowed nervously. She hadn't meant to sound so panicky.

"To catch up," her sister winked, jumped up from the couch, grabbed one of her bags, and headed for her bedroom.

Delia exhaled and slammed her laptop shut.

How was she going to act normal with Jake here?

Dammit, she was so screwed.

*

Stella was still in her bedroom getting ready when Jake arrived. He was dressed as they knew him, in jeans and a T-shirt. He wore his glasses, and Delia spotted several paint flecks in his dark hair. He had been painting.

"Hey," he greeted, stepping past her into the apartment.

"Jake," she stopped him by grabbing his arm. "Can—can we pretend what happened—never happened?"

His brows knitted together, and he nodded. He shook her hand off and walked to the lounge, sitting on the couch. His controlled silence was knotting her insides.

Was it because she felt guilty? Or was it something else? Regret?

Stella bounced into the room, and Delia pushed all thoughts aside. She watched and listened from the kitchen as Stella regaled Jake with stories from her weekend photoshoot. Jake gave Stella his full attention, seemingly much more relaxed in her presence.

He was visibly different with Stella than he had ever been with her. They looked so comfortable with each other. She could understand now why Stella had held back from any contact. It was for this purpose, to experience the way his eyes lit up as she talked and his mouth curved into a smile as he listened.

Delia turned away, focusing on the cups of coffee she was preparing. Her heart ached. If she and Jake had gone further, she would never have been able to forgive herself. Stella was her only family, and she would never intentionally hurt her. She almost did.

And she would have to tell Stella what had almost happened, even though she wished it had never happened.

Liar. You wanted it to happen ever since you first saw him.

Why couldn't fate have been kind enough to let her meet him first? And why was Cupid so cruel as to split his arrow and shoot both her and Stella?

She should never have agreed to help Stella and play matchmaker. Her sister should have gone after Jake on her own.

She had made an error. An error only fixable by a broken heart.

"D?"

"Huh?"

"Are you done?" Stella stood beside her, frowning.

"Yes, sorry."

"Where were you? Daydreaming about scenes for your novel?"

Delia gave a controlled smile. "Yes, my novel, of course. Umm, I just remembered I have to go."

"Go?" Stella asked in disbelief. "Go where?"

Delia grabbed her bag and apartment keys. "I'll be back later. You two have fun."

Before either Stella or Jake could say anything, Delia fled. She had noticed Jake getting to his feet as she dared a glance over her shoulder while closing the door. He wore the same conflicted expression she felt.

Delia returned just before midnight. As she passed her sister's bedroom, she saw, relieved, that Stella was asleep and alone. She carefully closed the door.

"D? You're back? Where did you go?"

"Shhh, go back to sleep. We can talk in the morning."

"Okay, love you."

"Love you too."

*

Delia avoided the window chair the next morning and instead returned to her bedroom, drinking her coffee at her desk. Stella was, thankfully, still asleep because, honestly, Delia did not have the strength or the courage to face her.

She had walked the neighborhood for hours, then hid away at a late-night café until she was certain it was safe to return. The possibility that Jake might have stayed over had nagged her incessantly. But would he have? After what happened between them? Could he easily move from her to Stella's bed?

Finding him not there had been more than relief. It meant he had some decency and perhaps...

Perhaps what, Delia? Hope that he actually likes you and not Stella.

Delia groaned and slammed down her coffee cup, spilling the contents over the desk and her laptop.

"Fuck!"

"D?"

Delia swung around and found her sister standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, Stella. I just spilled my coffee," Delia said, wiping the mess with a T-shirt she had grabbed from her pile of laundry on the floor.

"You've been acting weird ever since I came home. Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on with you, or should I ask Jake?"

"Why-why would you ask him?" Delia almost spilled the rest of the coffee again.

Stella raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage into full view in the tight-fitting silk nightgown she wore. If there was one thing that could be said about Stella, it was that she had been blessed with all the beauty their parents had. It was as if they had been saving all the good stuff for her younger sister, and Delia had been the test run beforehand.

"I saw the way he looked after you ran from the apartment yesterday. And it wasn't even ten minutes before he made some excuse to leave."

"He did?"

"I almost thought it was planned and that you two were running off somewhere together, apart from the fact that he had spoken the truth and the witch pitched."

"Oh. Sarah?"

"Yep."

"Why would you think we'd be together? Did- did he say something?"

"No. Should he have?"

Delia laughed and made the weirdest pfffttt sound. "I should do some laundry." She hurried to gather her clothes.

"D?"

"No, Stella. He likes you, and honestly, I wish you all could just get a move on and become official or whatever."

"Official?" Stella's arms dropped. "Wait, you mean him and me together?"

"Yes, wasn't that what you wanted?"

"But—" Stella frowned. "I thought Jake said—"

Delia froze. "Jake said what?"

"Never mind," Stella said quickly. "I need coffee." She twirled around and sprinted to the kitchen.

Had Jake told Stella what had happened?

No, because Stella wouldn't be so calm if he had.

What had he said?

*