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“You have a complicated relationship with Presley, don’t you?”
Her body shudders a little as she draws in a breath, almost physically resisting my question. But slowly, she looks up at me with clear eyes and a naked expression. “Yeah, kinda.”
I want to know more about her. Everything. Anything.
“Why do you ask?” She looks at me with such suspicion I’m almost insulted. Except that I know it’s everything to do with her and nothing to do with me.
“I’m curious about you.”
“Why?”
I sigh. “Look, you seem to be clinging to this whole mysterious bad girl thing, but I’m interested inwhoyou are. You know, as a person.”
“That’s terribly old-fashioned,” she says, but a small smile is creeping across her lips.
“I’m an old man on the inside.”
She sucks on her lower lip for a minute, her eye contact intense and unwavering, and I’m lost in their silvery depths. “Presley is the ‘good’ twin. She was always the better student, the more sociable and popular one. When she was a kid, she was really sick and my mother had to give her everything just to keep her alive. All the love and affection and attention, and sometimes I wonder if that’s why she’s better at everything now. Better with...people.”
“You were left to fend for yourself?”
“All the time. I didn’t mind, because shewassick and I wanted her to get better more than anything. I love my sister.” Drew traces circles on my chest, her eyes following the pattern. “But when we got to school, she shot ahead and now she’s always running rings around me. I feel like I can’t ever catch her.”
“Why do you need to catch her?”
She lets out a soft puff of air. “Just for once I’d like to be the good twin. I’d like to be better at something... I’d like to be ahead.”
“Maybe you’re going in a different direction.” I tilt her face up to mine. “Maybe you’re never going to catch her because you’re running a different race with a different finish line.”
Her eyes search my face, as though she’s looking for a sign of insincerity. Or maybe she’s looking for something else—a reason not to listen to me. A reason to push me away.
But I won’t give her one. I don’t want her to go anywhere.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Drew
HOWISTHISthe same man who’s been torturing me by email for the past few weeks? It’s not possible that the unexpectedly sweet, incredibly sexy Mr. Suit is Giant Pain in the Ass Flynn Lewis. My brain can’t reconcile it.
“You said you had a brother,” I say, continuing the discussion against my better judgment. “Clark Gable?”
He laughs. “Yeah, Gabe.”
“Who’s older?”
“He is.”
Why am I asking these questions? This is sex, not a getting-to-know-you session. But tonight I feel like Flynn is the only one who gives a shit about me—the only one who sees past my makeup and prickly attitude and shock value. Presley probably believes I walked into her party dressed differently because I like the attention. Was she cringing the whole time I was trying to plan the costume party?
Good old crazy Drew, at it again.
But Flynn doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with me. He’s asking me personal questions even when I’m offering what I thought all guys wanted—sex without the need for more. Hell, it’s what I thoughtIwanted. But the more time I spend with him, the more he wriggles past my defences.
“Does he also have a stick up his butt?” I’m going for the joking angle, because I’m really worried about how much Flynn is seeing of me now.
“No, I’m the more serious one.” He looks up at the ceiling, his long body stretched out on the most massive bed I’ve ever seen. Flynn’s body is incredible—perfectly honed, lean with the right amount of bulk. He’s strong without making me feel like I’m hugging a brick wall.
Hugging, huh?
