Yes, I’m drunk. But not drunk enough to forget I’m fucking my dead fiancé’s baby brother while I still wear his ring on my finger.

“Answer me,” I demand.

“You goddamn know Presley was never in the race.” Joe shuts me up with a dirty, violent kiss. “As long as you have breath in you, no one else stands a chance.”

I fall apart in his arms. Wave after wave of pleasure is crashing into me. I clench around him. Then he comes too. I smile to myself, a twisted smile. The smile of a woman who’s just done something horrible she can never take back.

We both tumble to the floor, limbs tangled. We’re sweaty and smelly. He slides away from me. We stare at the ceiling. I wonder if we are both wondering the same thing. If Dom is somewhere up there, in the sky, watching us. If he is currently shaking his head, telling his new roommates, See these two assholes? They’re my fiancée and my brother.

“I’m the worst human in the world.” I close my eyes.

“You wish. That title is saved for me.”

“No.”

“I’m his brother.”

“I’m still wearing his ring.”

He groans, rubbing his face with one hand. “Good point. I’ll kill a puppy or something and take the Worst Human cake.”

“It’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t the one who thought this is a good idea,” he reminds me as he reaches for his jeans and takes out a pack of cigarettes.

I check my watch. It is half past eleven. From a distance, I hear my phone ringing. It’s where I left it, in the living room. I bet it is Nora. I bet she is mad. I’m not going to be able to take a shower here after all.

“Do you think he’d have forgiven us for this?” I ask.

“Do you think he deserves an apology after what he did to you?” Joe counters, lighting up his cigarette. He is trying to be bold, but I can see the slight shake in his fingers. He is not completely okay with what just happened.

I consider his question. “I don’t know.”

“That’s the thing, Ev. I’m not sure you are burdened with the same expectations and responsibilities an ordinary fiancée must go through.”

Instead of answering, I try to envision Dom walking in on us doing what we just did. It doesn’t end well in any scenario.

“What are you thinking?” Joe asks.

“I’m going to buy a one-way ticket to San Francisco,” I hear myself say. Suddenly, it seems like the best idea I’ve had in years. “Yeah. I think it’s time.”

“You’re leaving?” He sits upright, braced on his elbows, staring at me with thunder in his eyes.

“I have nothing here,” I say helplessly, sitting up too.