Page 42 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Liam

When I was younger, my favorite part of the day was just as it was beginning to end, hence why I’d always choose that time to ride around and just…

be alone. I think a part of me was relieved that I simply made it through another day.

I’d come back home when the fear would kick in—that a new tomorrow was just around the corner.

I’m not exactly sure when that changed. Likely when all the days started bleeding into one. When I stopped having to go to school, face the world, face reality .

Without realizing it, I spent the next few years building a shelter for myself free of all the things I feared, but now… now I’m realizing that probably caused more harm than good, because reality is here.

It’s inevitable.

And it’s cruel.

And that shelter I’d built?

It no longer exists.

For the second morning in a row, I’m up before the sun is. Thankfully, I didn’t spend days in the closet like I had in the past. I’m older now and mature enough to realize that darkness alone won’t help me.

I sit at the top of the bleachers, staring out at the baseball field. The grass is damp, glistening from the morning dew. Besides an older lady walking her dog, I’ve been the only one here for the past hour. I’ll give it another five minutes before?—

“Dammit!” Lincoln appears at the bottom of the bleachers, a glare set in place. He slowly climbs the steps and waits until he’s beside me to add, “You know my spidey senses don’t work when I’m sleeping.”

I take in his appearance from head to toe—the sweat on his brow and around his collar, then the rise and fall of his chest. Even though I already know the answer, I ask, “How did you get here?”

“Well, since you stole the keys?—”

“ Hid , not stole?—”

“To the truck?—”

“To my truck.”

He sighs, dropping down in the seat beside me. “You were always the worst at sharing.”

Blatant lie, but I’ll let it pass.

“I ran,” he finally answers, attempting to catch his breath.

For a long moment, neither of us speaks.

We just stare ahead, lost in our own thoughts.

Eventually, his breaths even until we match.

Each inhale. Each exhale. Then his elbow brushes mine, right against our matching scars.

Mine on the left, Lincoln’s on the right.

We have no idea how we got them. Dad doesn’t know, either.

We used to tell Lachy we were joined at the elbows at birth, then surgically separated.

Now the scars are how we stay connected.

Some days, I think he still believes it. Hell, some days, even I do.

I peer over at my twin, unsure of what to say.

How to start. Though, I’m sure he’s already in tune with how I feel .

“You know, I signed us up for baseball just to be near her,” I mumble.

It was a thought that had been plaguing me throughout the night, and it’s the reason I ended up here—at the place where it all began.

“You mean to tell me that you wanting to quit just as she joined that all-girls’ team wasn’t a coincidence?” He gasps, holding a hand to his chest in feigned shock. “My flabber has been gasted!”

I laugh, silent but there, and man, does it feel good.

I haven’t told Linc about what happened yesterday, but I’m sure he suspects Addie’s involved.

He hasn’t asked me directly, and he won’t.

Not until he knows I’m ready to talk about it, which I’m not.

Not the specifics, anyway. Besides, it’s not as if I ask him about Julie, but maybe—maybe I should… .

As strange as it is, girls and relationships aren’t something we get all that deep about.

I remember him once telling me that, to him, Julie had always been one of those girls you admire from afar.

That changed the moment they actually spoke to each other.

Dad had dragged Lachy and us to some party for one of Lucy and Cam’s friends, Dylan, and she was there with her family.

We were thirteen. They’ve been “dating” on and off ever since.

The dating part, I understand. The on-and-off business, not so much.

“How are things with Jules?” I finally ask.

Linc shrugs, dismissive. “Same as always.”

“And you’re okay with that?” It’s not as if Linc hasn’t had other girls in between Julie, or vice versa, but it just seems odd that they keep going back to the same damn place.

“What do you mean?”

“Why so much back and forth? Why not just go all in?”

“Because she lives in Florida,” he states, as if it’s obvious.

“And I don’t know if your eyes work, bro, but Julie’s hot .

And jealousy is a fucking bitch. I don’t want that feeling twenty-four-seven, and she feels the same about me, so…

when we’re physically together, we’re together .

Otherwise…” he trails off. Then sighs. “Even without all of that, long distance isn’t for me. ”

“So why don’t you move?” It seems simple enough.

“To Florida? ”

“No, to fucking Thailand, dickhead.”

He chuckles. “I have my reasons.”

“Are the reasons me ?” I’m not na?ve enough to downplay the effect of my lifestyle on his, and I can’t imagine what it would be like to be him.

He has a twin brother who’s a practical shut-in, rarely leaves the property, has never left the state , and not only that, but we work together.

And that work requires both our physical presence.

At Linc’s silence, I add, “You don’t feel you need to stay here for me, right? ”

Linc heaves out a breath, kicking out his legs and getting more comfortable. “So, I read this book once…”

“You don’t read.”

“Okay. I watched this documentary.”

“You don’t have the attention span?—”

“Fine. I watched a five-minute video…”

“Go on…”

“Basically… when something unexpected happens to one twin at a young age, like they die?—”

“Christ. I’m not dead. ”

“Just listen.” He waits a beat, watches as I press my lips together. “If one twin dies at a young age, the likelihood of the surviving twin experiencing some form of trauma is high. It’s called twin loneliness or something. It’s like a persistent feeling of loss or searching for a replacement.”

“You want to replace me?”

“Would you shut the fuck up?”

“My bad.”

“Anyway…” he huffs out. “That trauma also affects brain development that leads to mental health issues. Depression, anxiety, drug use. The works…”

“I don’t…” I don’t understand where he’s going with this.

“Think about it,” he says. “When twins grow up and grow old, marry and create their own families, that trauma isn’t there, because they’ve experienced the steps to get them to that point. Twins need to go through an emotional separation, and they need to go through it together.”

“Right…”

“The thing is, I know you’re ready for that and you have been for a while…” His eyes meet mine, not a single question hidden beneath them. “But I’m just—I’m not there yet, Liam.”

“I’m not?—”

“I know you better than you know yourself,” he cuts in, and it’s true. He does. “You’ve been pulling away for a while now. Away from our work. Away from me. And?—”

“I—” My gaze drops as his words spin circles in my mind. I guess I never saw it as that, but maybe he’s right. “I didn’t mean to.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he assures. “But that’s why I’ve been working hard on other ventures, so I can find my own place in this world without you.”

My chest tightens at the thought. “That’s not what I want.” Not exactly.

“Maybe not. But maybe it’s what we need, you know? I can’t just follow you around forever.” He shrugs. “Besides”—he cracks a smile—“I’d make a horrible fireman.”

I laugh through my conflicting emotions. “Yeah, I wouldn’t make the best bell pepper either.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yeah? Five years of photographic evidence dated October thirty-first prove otherwise.”

He stands, stretches out his arms. “I had the cutest bell pepper costume in town.”

“Pretty sure you were the only bell pepper costume in the entire world.”

He twists, turning to face me. “You know what we should do?”

“What?”

“We should go away for a few days. Go to Mia’s farm. Or wherever you want. Just… unplug. Reset. Whatever.”

My eyebrows rise. “No filming?”

“Fuck filming.”