Page 133 of Tangled Like Us

I can’t name another person who said they like my brevity or quietness.

We make our way back. Both of us keep glancing more at each other than ahead. We stop by the opened archway that leads into the main parlor.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you a twin?” That question comes from a middle-aged man with a graying mustache. He motions toward the first lounge where I see Banks sitting and still chatting with Akara. “I could have sworn I was seeing double.”

“Yes, sir, I’m a twin.” I don’t elaborate. Don’t say anything else. Don’t really feel like it. But I do try to smile so I don’t make him feel bad for asking.

He laughs. “Thought so. You know my niece and nephew are twins. Six. Adorable.”

I’m sure they’re sweet, but what they’ll never understand is having to have these unprompted conversations with complete strangers.

He’s one second away from taking out his phone and showing me photographs.

“Oh this is interesting,” Jane says, but her gaze isn’t on the old man. It’s pinned to the couch that we had left.

Sulli isn’t alone anymore. Some preppy guy in his twenties is seated right next to her.

I assess: dishwater-blond hair that’s combed back, a crisp gray suit jacket over a striped button-down like he stepped out of some J.Crew catalogue.

My first instinct is to look back at the first lounge. Where Sulli’s bodyguard sits. Akara and Banks are eagle-eyeing the fuck out of this guy.

But there’s not much they can do. The club’s security would throw a fit if they crossed into the parlor for no reason.

“Excuse us, sir,” I tell the old man and follow Jane to a bookshelf, a few meters from the couch but far enough to give us some privacy.

Jane whispers, “I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s Wesley Rochester’s older brother. I’ve never met him. I think his name is Will.”

She’s already told me about her first kiss. Kindergarten. Wesley Rochester. How she thought she was fated to be with him just because of his last name and her namesake—Jane Eyre. Wesley grew up to be a prick, according to Jane, but I’ve never met him. And his older brother Will is an unknown variable.

It’s hard to detach my gaze from her, but I do.

I watch as Will passes Sulli a glazed donut wrapped in a napkin. Like Sulli mentioned earlier, there aren’t any donuts in the club, which either means Will brought it for her or convinced the chef to make her one from scratch.

Sulli holds out her other hand and Will takes out a pen. He scrawls on her wrist. Has to be his number. She keeps smiling, her face turning red, and her gaze sweeps his body in a slow once-over.

I look to Akara. He is frozen. Marbleized. Banks is talking to him, almost rapidly, concern in my brother’s eyes.

“I don’t want to interrupt them,” Jane whispers to me, referring to Sulli and Will. “Sulli says all guys see her as a best buddy, not a potential girlfriend or even hookup. So now I get to remind her of this moment.” She smiles even wider.

I wrap my arm around her waist. “So this a good thing?”

“I think so,” she says. She touches her lips that are still a little red from our kiss in the wine pantry. I wanted to do more, but that will have to happen later tonight. Her eyes drift to me and then down to my lips.

Thinking the same thing.

Tonight.

I feel a hot gaze to my four. Someone is staring at me. Quick check, and I meet my brother’s eyes.

Akara is talking into his mic, concentrated elsewhere. Banks is the only one watching me with a newfound intensity. Can he tell I’m looking at Jane differently now that we’ve slept together? He’d be the only one able to figure it out.

My stomach knots.

Keeping a secret from him is out of my nature.

It’s like running backwards up a fucking hill. And there’s only so long I can keep running before I trip over my own goddamn feet.

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