Page 56 of My Fallen Saint

“Ashamed! Some asshole college boy drugs you at a party and—”

She squeezes my hand. “That’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is that I was dealing with all this stuff about the baby and my parents not believing that the creep had roofied me and the move to San Diego and everything. I wanted to talk about all of it with you, but I held it in, and I shouldn’t have. I should have told you. I think—no, I know—it would have helped.”

She slides off the stool, then heads back into the kitchen and starts to load the dishwasher. “I just thought that I should say that.”

For a moment, I sit quietly. I’m not an idiot. And neither is my best friend. She just made that clear enough. And I do want to tell her. But this isn’t only my secret. It’s Alex’s too.

The thing is, Brandy can seem flighty, but she’s a vault when it matters. God knows she kept her baby secret for long enough. And she never once told anyone about me and Alex all those years ago.

More than that, she’s my best friend. She deserves the truth. On top of that, I deserve someone I can talk to about this fun house of emotions that’s set up camp inside me.

“You have to promise to keep it a secret,” I say. “An in-the-vault kind of secret.”

“Lamar was right. You did sleep with Devlin Saint.”

“No!” I take a breath. “Well, not exactly, anyway.”

She pauses, a dirty mixing bowl in her hand. And then, as if someone hit the play button, she starts moving again. She puts the bowl in the dishwasher, comes to stand across from me at the island, and says, “Okay. Tell me.”

“Have you ever noticed that Devlin Saint kind of looks like Alex?”

Her brow furrows. “A bit, I suppose. It’s been a long time since I saw Alex, but he was blond.”

“Trust me, there’s a resemblance.”

“Okay. But why does that—” Her eyes widen. “They’re brothers!”

“Ah, no.”

“Then, what?”

“Well, the truth is, they’re the same guy.”

She stares at me, totally silent. Then she blinks twice, swallows a laugh, and says, “Are you freaking kidding me?”