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I can’t speak, so I nod.
“Right now,” he says, “I need to know you want me.” His voice might be calm and firm, but his eyes are not. They’re full of worry.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I always want you.”
He wraps his arms around me. “I love you. More than anything. I’m sorry I’ve neglected you tonight. I never stopped thinking about you, even when you weren’t by my side.”
I wrap my arms around him. With him on the step below me, we’re nearly the same height and I don’t need to go on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly. A sad emptiness and a vague sense that we’re failing settles over me. “Come to bed with me.”
Timothy nods, then pulls back and whistles loudly. The house goes not exactly silent, but a lot quieter. “Hey, Danny, shut it down for me?”
Danny salutes and bellows out, “Party’s over, folks! Grab your shit and go home!”
Timothy moves past me, pulling on my hand. “Come on.”
Chapter twenty-five
Timothy
“Stillugly,”Isayas I follow Nic through the door of his Beverly Hills mansion. After our little (big) party yesterday, the paps have figured out where Nic was staying, which means the fans have as well, and now I’m helping him move back into his place, with his fancy security system on the large, walled, secluded property, because as much as I like having Nic around, I don’t want anyone harassing Mina.
“I didn’t pick the house,” he grumbles as his suitcase wheel goes the wrong way.
“Where’s the bellhop when you need him? Concierge!” My voice echoes through the cavernous white room. Nic’s house resembles a bland but extremely expensive hotel—white on white with orchids and simple but boring statement pieces—or purgatory. I bounce between the two as I see fit.
“At least no pornos were filmed here,” Nic says pointedly.
“That you know about.”
The small rental truck arrives with the stuff he kept out of Addison’s hands by putting into storage, and it doesn’t take long to unload everything. I don’t think he’s happy to be home, but at least he can enjoy his hideous, 12,800-square-foot victory. Hopefully, he keeps his dick in his pants while celebrating.
“I’ll order us a pizza,” I say from the doorway of an unfurnished bedroom.
Nic nods, stepping quickly in front of a canvas wrapped in plastic and covered in a blanket.
I know exactly what that is and why he’s kept it all these years, but I’ll let him pretend his crush on my twin is a secret.
What does he even do with that painting, though? Stare at it with lovesick eyes? It’s a portrait of him, so I hope it’s not masturbatory fodder. I walk away to give him a moment alone with it before he safely tucks it into the back of the closet, behind all his other scar tissue.
His kitchen is cold, massive, industrial, and soulless. I grab the bottle of whiskey I bought as a re-housewarming gift, or a happy divorce gift, and head outside. It’s a warm evening. I pour a glass for myself and check my phone for messages from Mina.
Nothing.
I have a temperamental twin sister who excels at not telling me she’s mad when she’s livid, so I know Mina’s still pissed about the party yesterday, even though she says she isn’t.
She asked me to be careful, and I was careful. I was surprised I still had fun, but I was more surprised she wasn’t by my side. Sure, she watched me from a lounge chair while we played a lazy game of pool volleyball, but after that…she disappeared. Then reappeared with Dex, which was unfortunate. I trust her, but seeing them together still made me feel like shit.
Maybe I’m overreacting. Or maybe she’s realizing I’m not worth the trouble and the stress. I need to show her I am.
Nic drops down across from me, ruining my view of all the trees surrounding his wildfire-bait mansion. When he realizes I didn’t bring a glass for him, he gets a shitty look on his face and swigs the expensive whiskey straight from the bottle like an animal. “What’s up with you?” he asks, studying me.
I shrug. “Nothing.”
Nic’s already shaking his head. “No, lately you’ve had this smug, freshly-fucked look on your face. It’s annoying as hell, but it’s gone. What happened?”
“We shouldn’t have had so many people over yesterday.”
“She’s pissed about that?”
