Page 143 - It Ends with Us

possible. I squea l when I feel a pierc ing sting on my right butt cheek . I

spin around and R yle is grinni ng , ho lding two bottles of wine.
“Did you just bite me?”
He gives me an inno cent look. “Don’t tem pt the scorpion if you
don’t want to get stung .” He ey es me up and down whi le he opens
one of the bottles . He ho lds it up bef ore he pours us a glass and says,
“It’s vint age. ”

“Vintag e,” I say with mock impres sion. “Wha t’s the spec ial
occasion?”
He ha nd s me a glass and says, “I’m going to be an unc le. I ha ve a
smoking ho t girlfriend . And I get to per form a ver y rare, possibly
onc e- in- a-lifet ime crani opagus sep aration on Mond ay.”
“A crani o-what ?”
He fini shes off hi s glass of wine and pours hi msel f ano ther one.

“Crani opagus sep aration. Conj oined twins ,” he says. He point s to a
spot on the top of hi s hea d and taps it. “Attached right here. We’v e
been studying them sinc e the y were born. It’s a ver y rare surger y. Ver y
rare. ”
For the firs t time, I thi nk I’m genu inel y turned on by hi m as a
doctor. I mea n, I admire hi s drive. I admire hi s ded ication. But seei ng

ho w ex cited he is about wha t he’s doing for a living is seri ously sex y.
“How long do you thi nk it’ll take?” I ask.
He shru gs. “Not sure. They ’re young , so bei ng und er genera l
anes thes ia for too long is a conc ern. ” He ho lds up hi s right ha nd and
wiggles hi s fing ers . “But thi s is a ver y spec ial ha nd tha t ha s been
thro ugh almost ha lf a million dollars’ worth of spec ialty education. I
ha ve a lot of faith in thi s ha nd .”

I walk over to hi m and pres s my lips to hi s palm. “I’m a little fond
of thi s ha nd , too.”
He slides the ha nd down to my nec k and then spins me so tha t I’m
flush agains t the count er. I gasp, bec ause I wasn’t ex pec ting tha t.
He pushes hi msel f agains t me from behi nd and slowly slides hi s
ha nd down the side of my body. I pres s my palms int o the grani te and

close my ey es , alrea dy feel ing the rush of the wine.
“Thi s ha nd ,” he whi spers , “is the stea dies t ha nd in all of Boston. ”
He pushes on the back of my nec k, bend ing me further over the
count er. His ha nd meet s the ins ide of my knee and he glides it