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“Look at me.”
It’s the sadness in her voice. It stops my heart.
Looking down, I can just see her eyes. “I couldn’t kiss you there,” I say, tugging down her shirt to cover her breasts. “Not when you were giving your permission to Kade.”
“And I would’ve let you, knowing you weren’t him.”
My lungs empty.
Her hold on me loosens, but I don’t try to escape anymore.
“Your fingers are thinner,” she whispers, a smile in her voice. “The hair peeking out of your hat hangs over your ears. And Kade has that triple triangle tattoo, same as your mom’s, on the left side ofhis torso.”
“He does?”
She nods. “She took him to get it on you guys’ last birthday.”
And I wasn’t there. Mom and Dad wanted to come and see me, but I had football clinics. They dropped off presents, and I took a raincheck for dinner and cake. Which I also eventually canceled.
I should’ve been there. My mom should’ve had that experience with both of her sons. I would’ve loved to get that tattoo.
Dylan shakes her head. “You fooled me for a minute, but only because it’s dark.”
I can’t help but laugh a little. I don’t know why I thought she wouldn’t know me. Kade and I are identical, but everyone can tell us apart. Even before puberty struck, and we developed very different personalities and style, it wasn’t hard for people who loved us to pick up on body language and expressions. Dylan’s known me her whole life.
And she let Hunter kiss her.
I caress her face, dropping my forehead to hers. “I—”
But then…the door behind me whips open, and I’m yanked out of the car. Stoli slams the door shut, and then his hands shove me in the chest so I fall back against it.
I look up, seeing Kade step in front of me.
I freeze, equal parts dread and longing hitting me at once. I haven’t looked him in the eye in months.
“It’s so nice to finally see you,” he jeers.
I rise up, and he pushes me back again.
“Kade!” Dylan snaps, still in the car behind me. I hear her trying to open the door, but my weight is against it.
Kade lifts my arms and slaps my chin to the side, inspecting me. “No cuts, no bruises. They’re treating you pretty good. You must be cooperating.”
Pretty well.Not ‘pretty good,’ I used to correct him. I’m going to let it go this time.
“I like it here,” I straighten my spine and look at him eye to eye. “No one gives a shit about my car. Or my dad. Wanna trade places?”
“Is there a Starbucks?”
I chuckle. Kade never apologized for his comforts. I really loved that about him. If anyone ever gave him shit about his preppy clothes, corporate coffee, or fitness tracker, he would simply say ‘who should I be instead? You? How much does that pay?’
He always knew that no one who’s coming after you is doing better than you.
And I think I finally understand.
“Think about it,” I tell him. “You could take my place for a day. I’m due for a visit anyway. I miss A.J.”
And my parents, everyone.
