Theo smiles down at me, seeming both shocked and impressed by my knowledge. “Ooh, you know your stuff.” He nods over his shoulder at Jared. “Dumbass doesn’t like superheroes.”
Jared bristles and shrugs. “I don’t mind them. I’m just not all jizz my pants about it like you are.”
I chuckle and point at Theo. “Burn.”
Jared laughs behind me and stands. “Shall we go to bed, Amy?” He raises one eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips, the meaning clear.
Theo obviously catches the hidden meaning, too, because he makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat and rolls his eyes. “Try to keep the noise down, huh? Remember I have to look you guys in the eye tomorrow.”
I force a smile as Jared playfully punches his brother in the arm before holding out a hand to me. With one last look at Theo, I put my hand in Jared’s and allow him to pull me to his room.
As we step inside, my eyes widen. I’ve been thinking about what his bedroom would be like for the last few weeks, wanting to see inside, to really get to know Jared, but the room is … disappointing. It’s practically bare. There are no personal touches around at all. The king-size bed and the large padded headboard mounted on the wall are the focus of the room. There are no pictures or art on the wall, no colours splashed around. It’s plain and neat and a little bit boring. The fitted furniture blends into the background and is barely noticeable. It’s almost as if he only just moved in and put his clothes away in the wardrobe. The only thing that screams lived-in in this bedroom is the dressing table; instead of being a dressing table, he has the area set up like an office. There are neat stacks of files with colour-coded notes paper-clipped onto them on his desk, a pot of pens, a packet of the strawberry sweets the same as his car ones, and a corkboard with lots of stuff pinned on it. It’s all so methodical and tidy and so Jared.
I turn back to make a joke about what a neat freak he is, but as the door clicks closed, he immediately starts making those eyes at me. The ones that make my tummy flutter, my panties wet, and my thighs weak as my hormones go into overdrive.
But I’m just not in the mood tonight. My mind is still spinning, and my heart still aches. There’s a pounding starting behind my eyes—either from too much thinking or from the alcohol, I’m not sure which—but as Jared approaches me, his eyes all sultry and predatory, I shoot him an apologetic look and shake my head.
“I’m sorry. I have a headache. Do you mind if we don’t tonight?” I ask, taking his hands as he reaches for the bottom of my shirt.
I’m so confused. I just need to sleep and turn my brain off. Hopefully, I’ll wake in the morning with a fresh perspective, and I can stop this horrible, sinking feeling inside me.
His expression changes immediately, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as he steps closer to me and gently cups my face in his hands. “Of course. Are you okay? Why didn’t you say anything?” He dips his head and plants a soft kiss on my forehead.
I close my eyes and melt against him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my face into his chest. His smell is calming, soothing. I can hear his heart thumping steadily in his chest, and I feel an ache settle over me.
Why did tonight have to happen? We had been going so well, ticking along so nicely, and our relationship was blossoming into something amazing, but then Theo had to come along and pull the rug out from under us. Nothing is the same now, not even hugging him. My guilt is eating me up, ruining the moment, ruining everything I thought I knew.
Jared eases back from my embrace, but I’m not willing to let go yet, so I tighten my arms around him, locking my hands around my wrists so he’s trapped in a little cage-like grip. He kisses the top of my head, his hot breath tickling my scalp, causing my skin to tingle.
“Amy, if you let me go, I’ll get you some tablets.” He reaches behind his back and pries my hands apart, stepping back and shooting me a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be right back. You get in the bed.”
He steps away from me before I can voice my protest and heads out of the door, leaving me alone in his bare, immaculate bedroom, where there’s not a single thing out of place. Tears well in my eyes, and I look up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to try to banish them.
By the time he comes back into the room, carrying a glass of water in one hand and two pills in the other, I’m just changing into my Bagpuss shorts and T-shirt pyjamas. He patiently watches me as I swallow the pills and then slip into his bed. His smell engulfs me; it’s exquisite and painful at the same time. I love it; I hate it. I want to smother myself in it and run away from it in equal measure. I’m so conflicted that my head gives another throb. I can’t even keep my eyes open to watch him undress, which is something I would never normally miss.
He turns off the light and slides into the bed next to me, wrapping me tightly in his arms, his hand softly stroking the back of my hair. I feel my chin wobble as emotion crashes over me. I press my face into his chest and cling to him.
“I love you,” he whispers, his lips press against my hair as his legs tangle with mine.
My favourite three words in the world now feel like they stab a hole in my heart. My throat is clogged with guilt. “I love you too,” I mumble against his skin.
But the thing that hurts the most is the question that keeps revolving around my head: Do I love him … or is it his nerdy, magic-performing twin I am really in love with?
twenty.one
I barely sleep. Instead, I spend most of the night lying awake in Jared’s arms, my mind whirling a mile a minute, plagued by questions I don’t know the answers to.
By eight a.m., I feel absolutely wretched and slightly sick. There’s no fresh perspective this morning, just more confusion and uncertainty. My sleepless night has not helped in the slightest. All I can be positive about is that I hate myself. I hate the situation. I hate that I lied to Jared when he asked me if everything was okay. I hate that I kissed his brother by accident yet still told Jared I loved him, too, last night before he fell asleep, cuddling me so intimately. But mostly, I hate the fact that I know, deep down, that Theo was the one I fell in love with, not Jared.
I tilt my head and look up at him. He’s still sleeping peacefully, and he looks like something carved by angels. My gaze wanders his face and settles on the little mole under his left eye. It used to be my favourite thing about his face—it still is—but now, that little freckle makes my heart ache for a whole different reason. I long to reach out and touch it, but I don’t want to wake him, so instead, I carefully ease myself from his bed and tuck the covers up around him, tiptoeing out of his room and into the hallway.
I nip into the bathroom, doing my business and then wincing at my reflection in the mirror because I look like Gene Simmons from Kiss where I haven’t taken my make-up off before bed last night. I use my hands and roughly scrub at my face until I’m semi-presentable. Then, I pad into the kitchen, searching out my first priority—coffee, strong and lots of it.
“Morning.”
I jump so hard that I hit my head on the kitchen cupboard and let out a little yelp of surprise and pain as I whirl on the spot. Theo sits at the dining room table, sketchbook balanced on his knee, pen in his hand.
“Dammit, you scared me,” I wheeze, putting my hand over my heart to quell the thumping.