I finish my set and walk backstage to the dressing room. It’s Monday. I didn’t expect to see Rebel on the floor again tonight, but he was, and I can’t shake the look in his eyes as he watched me dance. It’s hard to explain, but something about it makes my skin feel hypersensitive.
My mood is still dark following last night’s bust. After Brody had fallen asleep, I binged on old episodes of Vampire Diaries and Teen Wolf. Hey, a girl’s got to find escape where she can, and television shows packed full of hot guys isn’t a bad way to do it, but it wasn’t enough to erase this funk I’ve found myself in.
The tug of war going on inside my head feels like a boulder, pinning me down with its weight. Despite how much I hate feeling this way, seeing Rebel out there tonight only increases my urgency to get back home and hide under a blanket.
Once I’m dressed in my street clothes—a pair of dark jeans and three-quarter sleeve billowing black V-neck blouse with a cinched waist—I hurry toward my car like my ass is on fire. I don’t want to talk to him tonight. Or any night, for that matter.
Just the thought of it causes me to break out in a sweat.
Leaping into the front seat, I lock the doors with one hand and turn the car on with the other. I don’t breathe right until the car is in motion.
It’s as I am backing out of my parking spot that I glance up to see the back emergency exit door swing open. The lighting out here is terrible, but I can tell by the height and bulk of the person who steps out that it’s Rebel.
He’s looking for me. His head swings around and I can tell the instant he spots my car. His face is cast in heavy shadows, but his body language is stiff and menacing. He takes a step forward, and I feel a flare of panic in my gut.
Pressing my foot on the accelerator, I speed toward the main street. The path takes me right past where he is standing, and as I get closer, I am finally able to see him clearly.
Hard anger burns in his dark eyes as I pass by. I cringe and focus all my attention straight ahead. It’s a coward’s move, I know. But I don’t have the first clue how to handle any of this.
Dating two brothers at once is bad enough. Wanting them both is even worse. Even if I was to choose, there’s no guarantee either of them still want me back. Rebel’s and my relationship was purely superficial, and I have no idea where Ransom and I were headed. It felt like we were building up to something, but now he won’t even speak to me. Or I won’t speak to him. All of this is making my head swim. Whatever. Not talking is fine with me. I need the space and time to clear my head.
The only thing that concerns me right now is finding out what Rebel wants from me. Clearly, it’s something, or he wouldn’t keep showing up at my job. Thankfully, he doesn’t know much else about me. Unless Ransom tells him where I live, my home is still a safe haven.
I regret the thought the instant I pull up in front of my apartment. What is this, stalk Josephine night?
The sleek silver BMW would catch anyone’s eye, but parked beside older model cars driven by fellow students, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
I’d know that car anywhere. I looked under its hood once, but the car isn’t what stuck in my head. It was the owner.
Ransom is here. Ten to one says he’s waiting for me, and I have to ask myself who or what I’ve pissed off to earn this kind of punishment. Can’t these men just leave me alone?
My legs tremble as I step out of the car and walk the few steps to the building. I live on the second floor, first door on the right, so when I walk through the entrance, I see Ransom right away. He’s sitting on the top step just outside my door. His head his bowed, his black hair gleaming under the overhead lights, one knee bent up to his chest with the opposite foot resting two stairs below.
I pause, my nerves growing exponentially, and just watch him there. He looks so relaxed like he’s been waiting awhile.
I step further inside, letting the door close behind me. At the soft whoosh, Ransom lifts his head. His eyes are dull at first, but they brighten as he looks me over. I don’t know what he’s seeing, but the way he eyes me makes me tingle all over.
I take the first few steps hesitantly, my pace quickening as I continue to climb. Ransom gets to his feet as I reach the top, and stands aside to let me pass.
I’m not about to go inside. Ransom never gave me back my key, so I am hyper aware that he could let himself in whenever he wants. But he hasn’t yet, so I have to believe that he won’t push the issue now.
I think of asking for my key back, but my voice seems to be stuck in my throat. I don’t know what to say, so I croak out a simple, “Hey.”
“Hey.” Ransom’s stern countenance eases into a soft smile as he stares down at me. His expression rocks me, and I look away, twisting my keys around my finger. It’s a nervous gesture that totally gives me away, but he doesn’t comment on it.
The pressure to say something builds between us like a tangible thing, charging the air. My eyes dart around the empty hallway as the tension continues to grow, and, inside my head, a little voice screams at me to say something. Mercifully, Ransom speaks first.
“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I’m sure I’m the last person you want to see right now,” he rumbles. “I’ve been turning this over in my head for days, how this was going to go. I wasn’t even sure I would come. But I honestly didn’t know how I couldn’t. I mean, this isn’t how I’d pictured things going between us.”
He’s rambling. Somehow, in all this fucked-up craziness, Ransom’s rambling breaks through the mental block I’ve been trying to build since the confrontation between me, him, and his brother at their apartment better than a pick through ice. I find myself amused by this, a faint smile growing on my lips as he continues on.
“Caring about someone is supposed to be simple. Simple is good. I like simple. But this—” he motions a finger between us “—is the farthest thing from simple you can get.”
I nod, because, yeah, I know. Who knows better than me? I’m the girl standing between two brothers. I’m the girl who’s wrecking lives. I’m that girl I enjoy watching on reality television.
The smile slips. My life has fallen to shit and I don’t know how the hell I managed to get here, but I can tell you now, it was an honest mistake. How in the hell was I supposed to know there were two of them? People talk about having doppelgangers, evil twins, what-have-you, but who really puts stock into it?
“I mean, I should have known something was going on, right? I should have sensed something was off.” Ransom is gesticulating all over the place and I have a feeling I know where this is headed.
I cut him off, unwilling to go down that road tonight. “I’m going to stop you there,” I say, holding up my hand. Catching him mid-sentence, he pauses, his mouth frozen open. “I’ve been on my feet all night. I’m tired and hungry and I’m not in the mood to hash this out with you right now.”
“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” Ransom questions. His agitated tone sets me on edge. “When will you be ready to talk about it, Josephine? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one holding all the answers. I’m just trying to figure out how the hell this all happened.”
I. Am. Floored. A laugh bubbles up from my throat, sounding warped, even to my ears. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not the only one trying to figure this out. How do you think it feels to be me?” I demand, growing angrier by the second. This is exactly why I wanted to avoid this.
“I’ve been fucking around with two men, and I couldn’t even tell the difference!” I shout, angry at myself, him, Rebel. Everyone. “Talk about humiliation. I’m just trying to figure out which one of you was in on it. Or maybe both of you were. Maybe,” I say, my voice growing too loud, “you two planned this whole thing. Seduce some naïve college girl, make her fall in love with you, then rip the rug right out from under her. Surprise! We’re goddamned twins!”
Ransom’s frown creates deep grooves between his eyebrows. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess he was confused, maybe even a little bewildered by my accusation. Well, I couldn’t care less. He claims he’s been thinking? Well, so have I, bucko.
Spinning around, I jam my key into the lock and shove the door open. Never releasing my grip on it, I turn to slam the door in his face, but Ransom is suddenly there, reaching out to block my effort.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he growls, slapping his hand against the door and shoving it and me back. “You don’t get to just walk away from this.”
Just the fact that he did that—said that—sends my anger spiraling out of control. Who is he to decide what I get to do? I have had it! Had it with him. Had it with his brother. Had it with men who think they have some kind of claim over me. My peace of mind has been shattered and I feel like everything in my life has gone out of control.
“Get out of my home,” I growl. My fists are balled at my sides and I feel on edge. I feel violent. How dare he act like he can just come into my home and call the shots? Before I end up doing something that’ll land me in jail, I force myself to walk away.
Apparently, Ransom doesn’t understand the meaning of get out because he follows me into the kitchen. Fuck this. I need a drink if I’m going to have to deal with him.
I take a beer from the fridge. With my back to him, I pop the cap and gulp down half its contents before taking a breath. I don’t offer him one, and that small act of rebellion feels like some kind of victory. At this point, I’ll take ‘em where I can get ‘em.
Ransom is deadly quiet, but I know he’s behind me. I know he’s watching me. How do I know this? Because I can feel him. I feel his eyes on the back of my head, probably judging me, or pitying me. It’s what people like him, all proper and respectable, do.
“Do you have a death wish?” I snarl.
Taking me by surprise, his chest presses against my back and the heat pouring off him is everywhere. It wraps around me like a cozy blanket. I jump, but then my body betrays me. The tension in my shoulders eases instantly, and I feel the urge to sigh into him. But I don’t. I tense up instead, getting ahold of myself and forcing my body and mind to resist that inexplicable pull he has over me.
Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe it’s Rebel who does that. How am I to know?
His heavy hands cover my shoulders, his fingers pressing in lightly. I stay strong, unbending, until the moment Ransom rests his chin on my shoulder and his low, throaty voice fills my ear. “I’m sorry.”
It’s over. Two words. Embarrassing, but that’s all it takes. All the oxygen in my lungs leaves me in a rush taking with it my will to fight, and then I am leaning into his embrace.
His hot hands glide down my arms and when they find mine, he threads our fingers together. I’ve missed this. The intimacy. It feels like I’ve gone forever without it.
Until him, maybe even until I met Rebel, I never craved this. I never craved a connection with another human being. I thrived on being alone, on being my own person, making my own rules. It was a very selfish existence, and I liked it. The only time I hooked up with anyone was when it felt good and was convenient for me.
Then Rebel came along.
It started out as a mutual understanding. We scratched an itch for each other, and we had fun doing it. Knowing nothing about each other made that arrangement easy. Then I met Ransom, thinking he was Rebel, and the boundaries we’d set began to fade. The more I learned about Ransom, the more time I spent with him, the more I grew attached. I didn’t know then that the time I was spending with Rebel in the hotel room was separate from the time I was spending with Ransom alone in my apartment.
Turns out, while I was fucking Rebel, I was forging a bond with his brother, Ransom. Without intending to, I had spread that connection to both men. Not knowing they were twins was what caused this problem. I can’t divide my feelings when I don’t know who they belong to.
Right now, I am torn between being distraught and angry. Logically, I know it’s no one’s fault. None of us could have known the extent of our involvement together. It’s not something anyone considers. I never thought to ask myself, hey, what if he has an identical twin? Although, if I had, I could have avoided this entire situation.
Now, as I stand here in Ransom’s arms, I feel more confused than ever. It’s like I’m cheating on Rebel by being here with Ransom, but that’s ludicrous. I’m not with either one of them.
Ransom’s words say otherwise. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop to think about how this was affecting you, Joe. None of it is your fault. Of course, it’s not. I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around my girlfriend dating my brother.”
“I wasn’t aware that I was.” The comment is meant to address both being his girlfriend and dating his brother. The moment I walked out of their apartment, those relationships were severed. Or so I thought. I heave a defeated sigh.
“I know that,” he says. Hands still holding mine, he wraps our arms around me and gives me a little squeeze. “I think what bothers me most is how long you two were seeing each other.”
Months. I’d been meeting Rebel for months before I got together with Ransom. The timeline is sketchy in my head, all things considered, but Ransom and I only started seeing each other after I became his student. At the time, I’d been sleeping with Rebel since somewhere around the start of summer break. If time were the only factor to consider here, it’s Rebel I should be having this conversation with. Hence the reason I feel like I am somehow betraying him right now.
However, the way Ransom holds me and talks to me like he really cares, reminds me that he’s the one I’ve spent quality time with. There’s no denying the depth of our connection.
“I can’t go back and change what happened,” I tell him. “I just hope that it doesn’t come between you two. I’d hate to be the reason for that happening.”
Releasing me, Ransom walks to the fridge and takes out a beer for himself. His mood has shifted. He doesn’t look at me as he cracks the bottle open, but I can tell by the rigid set of his shoulders that he’s bothered by what I said. “Don’t worry about it,” he says tightly. “There’s not much that Rebel and I haven’t dealt with that we can’t work past.”
I don’t know what that means, but I don’t ask him to elaborate. There’s enough shit on our plate now to deal with, without adding more. “Why did you come over tonight?” I ask instead. Now that he’s here, drinking my beer, we might as well get this over with.
I’m half expecting him to throw down an ultimatum, or break it off clean and save us both the headache of dragging this out further than it has to go, but I should know by now that Ransom isn’t that predictable. Every time I expect him to react one way, he does the complete opposite.
Leaning back against the counter, holding his beer to his chest, Ransom’s dark eyes concentrate on mine. “I want you to come with me to dinner at my parents’ house tomorrow evening.”
My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“Dinner at my parents’. You said you’d go with me.”
“Yeah, before I found out I was screwing your brother!” I can’t believe this guy. Is he for real?
His features scrunch in distaste. “I’ll admit there’s a lot to work out.”
“Ya think?”
“But,” he continues. “We can’t keep avoiding each other like this. I assume you’re just as confused as me and Rebel. Which is why we think it would be a good idea for you to join us for dinner.”
My eyes widen. “Rebel? You two are discussing me now? And you think we should have dinner with your parents together?” My head is shaking furiously. He’s absolutely insane. “I’m sure finding out that their sons are having sex with the same woman will make a great first impression.”
Ransom scowls at me, but I don’t care. I need another beer if I’m going to deal with this shit tonight. Drinking deeply, I choose to ignore that dark, disapproving look Ransom is sending me. Screw him anyway. If he seriously thinks I’m dumb enough to parade around on the arms of two men, then he’s got another thing coming.
“I wasn’t suggesting that at all,” Ransom counters. “I’d escort you to dinner. You’d ‘meet’ Rebel and my parents. It doesn’t have to be anything more complicated than that.”
I give a derisive snort and take another swig from the bottle. He’s delusional. “Complicated is the very definition of what’s going on here, and I fail to see how having dinner with all of you is going to simplify any of it.”
“That’s just it, Joe,” Ransom says as he pushes away from the counter and rises to his full height. My head tilts back and I glare openly as he comes to stand in front of me. “This is exactly what we need. All of us. I was giving it some thought, and I realized that none of us really knows each other. You and Rebel,” he says, his voice roughening at the mention of his brother, “just fucked. You and me? We might have talked a little, but we weren’t much more than that either.
“You’re having just as hard a time sorting this out as we are and this is the perfect opportunity for us to learn more about each other.” His lips twitch. “You once said you wanted things to change between us. Well, this is our chance to do that.”
This isn’t just some casual dinner. Of course, it’s not. I’d have to have been born yesterday to believe that. So what’s his angle? I stare up at him, hard, wondering, when it suddenly occurs to me. The answer is so obvious. “You want me to choose.”
A light goes off behind those dark eyes and I know I’m right. Rebel and Ransom have talked it over and together have decided that I should choose which one of them I want to be with.
“That’s the idea,” Ransom confirms with a dark smile.
My first instinct is to lay into him, tell him how dumb their idea is, when it dawns on me. They just might be onto something here. I’ve been agonizing over this situation for days, unsure of how to handle it, and this dinner just might be the solution I’ve been searching for. If I can learn more about these two, in a controlled, protected environment where they’re sure to be on their best behavior, then I might actually find some answers.
Narrowing my eyes, I regard him skeptically. “And you really think this could work.”
“What have we got to lose?”
“What if I don’t choose you?”
He doesn’t appear phased by the question. “Then you don’t choose me,” he says with a lift of one shoulder, but his answer is too confident. He doesn’t think I’ll pick Rebel, which makes me wonder what I’m missing.
I guess there’s only one way to find out.
