Man Crush Monday

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Man Crush Monday Page 17

by Kirsty Moseley


  Jared dips his head and kisses my temple. “It’s at the top of the stairs, first door on the right.”

  He lets go of me, and I wobble on my unsteady legs as I rush inside, needing to be alone for a couple of minutes because the freak-out is creeping up on me at an alarming pace.

  I set my empty glass on the table and hurry up the stairs, locking the bathroom door behind me and leaning on the sink. My breathing comes out in short, sharp wheezes. My eyes lock on my reflection in the mirror, and I loathe myself.

  It is Theo that I’ve been crushing on all this time, Theo I’ve fallen head over heels in love with on those Mondays, Theo who did magic tricks and gave up his newspaper, Theo who helped old ladies off the train and shared his phone so little kids could watch cartoons.

  I cover my mouth as a strangled whimper escapes. Tears well in my eyes as panic takes over.

  When a knock on the door behind me sounds, I gasp and turn, looking at it in horror, praying it isn’t Jared. Because … what do I say to him now? I thought you were someone else, and by the way, I snogged the face off your twin brother a couple of weeks ago?

  “It’s occupied,” I croak, watching as the handle turns.

  “Amy, it’s Theo. Are you okay?”

  Oh God.

  At the sound of his voice, my stomach clenches in anguish. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Can I come in and talk to you real quick?”

  I huff out a breath and debate on saying no. I want to put this off for as long as possible, but I know I can’t. This needs sorting; it can’t stay hidden.

  I close my eyes and reach for the door lock, flicking it open. He opens it immediately and steps in, relocking the door behind him, trapping us in this small space together. I press back against the sink, and my eyes wander over him. He’s exactly like Jared, the strong shoulders, the eyes, the mouth I kissed …

  My breath catches in my throat as I quickly look away.

  He laughs awkwardly and sweeps a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “Look, I know what you’re stressed about, and don’t worry; I won’t say anything.”

  I swallow around the lump that’s formed in my throat and wipe away a stray tear as it silently streaks down my cheek.

  “The kiss,” he clarifies when I don’t answer. “It all makes sense now. I’m assuming that scene on the train wasn’t for me.” He raises one eyebrow in question, and I nod dumbly. His lips press into a thin line. “I’ll be honest with you; I was so shocked the other week when you kind of pounced on me. It came out of nowhere, and you were so different from your usual shy self on the train that I was taken aback. Now, I know why.”

  My heart is pounding. I need to sit down. “I thought you were Jared,” I rasp.

  He nods, watching as I sit on the edge of the bath and put my head in my hands. “Yeah. Not gonna lie, I did enjoy it, but it does make this a little awkward.”

  Awkward is the understatement of the century.

  A strangled sob leaves my throat, and he crouches in front of me, gently placing one of his hands on my knee. “Look, don’t worry about it. It’s happened before; you’re not the first.”

  I look up at him through watery eyes and shoot him a disbelieving glare. “Jared’s other girlfriends have kissed you and said you looked … oh God.” I can’t finish the sentence. My face flames with heat as I think about me pronouncing how perfectly fuckable he looked.

  Theo chuckles darkly. “Not exactly like that, no,” he admits. “But we’ve been mixed up plenty in our lives. Our own mother used to confuse us all the time until we were, like, eight.”

  “You’re identical. I’m not surprised.”

  He shakes his head. “We’re not exactly identical. We’re mirror twins.”

  When I look up at him blankly, he moves to sit beside me on the edge of the bath, crossing his ankles. He seems to fill the whole space, and my own traitorous body reacts as my temperature bumps up a couple of degrees at the closeness of him. Then, another wave of loathing washes over me, and I hate myself even more for noticing how warm and hard he is while pressed against my side. I slide a few inches away before I go insane.

  “Mirror twins,” he repeats, turning towards me a little. “For example, I have a mole here.” He reaches up and points to the small freckle he has under his right eye.

  I look at it and nod. “So does Jared.” I’ve kissed that tiny mark numerous times; it is my favourite.

  Theo shakes his head. “No, Jared’s is on the other side, under his left eye.”

  I frown in confusion and look at it again, and my mouth drops open in shock. He’s right; it does look out of place. I didn’t notice when he pointed before. It’s such a small detail to overlook.

  “We’re mirror twins. It means, if we were to stand facing each other, we’d be the exact reflection of the other, like you looking in a mirror,” he explains. “We’re opposites in everything. He’s left-handed; I’m right. He’s left-footed; I’m not. Everything is the opposite, like a reflection.”

  I recoil and let that information sink in. It all makes sense.

  Theo slaps his hands on his knees and stands up. “So, just stop stressing. I won’t say anything about the kiss. I don’t want to ruin what you’ve got going on with my brother. I’ve not seen him this happy in forever. Actually, I don’t think I’ve seen him smile this much in his whole life. He’s so reserved and quiet; he’s a pretty guarded person, and he usually doesn’t let people get to know the real him. But with you, he’s able to be completely himself. He’s utterly crazy about you. I know this because he’s told me so.”

  Guilt is choking me, clogging my throat. My eyes fill with tears again.

  He laughs and reaches out, taking my hands and pulling me to my feet. “Wipe those tears. Everything is fine, I promise.” He passes me a wad of toilet tissue he’s pulled from the roll.

  I force a smile and reach up, carefully wiping at my face as I try not to smudge my make-up or make my eyes red. “Thanks, Theo.”

  After I flush the tissue and take a couple of deep breaths, I turn to face him. He smiles and leans in, wrapping his arms around me, engulfing me in a hug.

  I gasp, shocked, but don’t pull away. It’s a nice hug, soft, affectionate. As I lean in and hug him back gratefully, I notice that he smells different, holds me differently, stands less stiffly than Jared does.

  “Come on; it’s okay. No one will ever hear it from my lips, all right? Our little secret.”

  He pulls back and zips his thumb and forefinger across his lips and then mimes throwing away the key, pretending to slam-dunk it into the plughole. It’s so silly that I can’t help but laugh.

  “Get that game face on, and let’s rock the shit out of this party. Someone mentioned cake and dancing. Just be warned: stay the hell away from my mum’s cocktails because they’re deadly.”

  I grin at that. “If your mum doesn’t try to give you alcohol poisoning through a homemade cocktail, is she even your mum?”

  He laughs loudly and looks over at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement as I follow him back down the stairs to the garden. “Look who I found. She got lost,” Theo jokes.

  Jared grins at me, the one that makes his eyes crinkle, and guilt hammers at my insides again.

  twenty

  Nothing’s changed, I try to tell myself.

  But I know that’s not true. Everything has changed.

  I fight my guilt and torment, trying to pretend like nothing is wrong as Jared takes my hand and pulls me to his side.

  “Okay?” he whispers, looking at me worriedly, as if he can somehow sense the building horror inside me.

  No! I kissed your brother.

  I force a smile and nod. “Yeah. I think it was the cocktail,” I lie, pressing against his side as his arm slips around my shoulders.

  One side of his mouth quirks into an apologetic smile. “I should have warned you. Sorry. I think her cocktails are, like, eighty percent vodka. They’re toxic.”

  I chuck
le and shrug. “Theo just said the same thing.”

  After that, I’m engulfed in the conversation happening around us. Their aunt Theresa is reminiscing about old times, bringing up tales of the twins and Emily’s rebellion years and teenage angst. All the while, she’s sipping on her lethal cocktail through a straw of all things. I find myself loosening up again. The ball of tension that settled in my stomach is slowly unravelling as Jared unconsciously strokes his thumb against my shoulder.

  “Oh, and remember that karaoke machine you boys got for Christmas one year?” Aunt Theresa suddenly asks Jared. “You must have been about ten years old. You and Theo were the cutest things ever!” Her smile is so wide that it’s almost manic.

  Jared groans and closes his eyes. “Can we not, please?”

  But Aunt Theresa chooses to ignore his obvious unease. “You wanted to start a boy band. Oh gosh, what was it you used to sing again? Deborah, can you remember? They’d sing it over and over for hours.” She grasps her sister’s elbow and gives it a little squeeze, her forehead creased in concentration as she tries to remember.

  “Please stop talking,” Jared begs, shaking his head.

  Deborah laughs and nods. “Kris Kross. They had a dance and everything. Called themselves T and J.”

  My mouth drops open. I need to see this immediately!

  “Mum. Stop. Talking,” Jared says. His face is scrunched up in what I guess is mortification as he rubs at his forehead with his spare hand.

  Theo laughs and playfully nudges Jared with his shoulder. “We should do it now for Amy. Revival of T and J!”

  Jared scoffs, “I would rather shit in my hands and clap than do that right now.”

  Laughter erupts from the people milling around, and I almost choke on my drink, coughing around my fit of giggles.

  Theo grins and turns to me. “You want to see it, Amy, right?”

  My eyes widen as I nod in agreement, trying to stifle my laughter. “I don’t just want to see it. I’ve gotta see it.”

  Jared turns and gives me the side-eye, which just makes me laugh harder. “Not happening, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, come on,” I tease, pouting at him.

  He’s saved from answering by a loud bang that echoes into the night.

  I jump in fright, and Deborah squeals and claps her hands. “Ooh, the display is starting!”

  I look up as more fireworks crackle and fizz into the sky.

  Jared leans down, talking into my ear over the din, “There’s a fireworks display at the local playing park. That’s why we’re outside most likely—free entertainment.”

  “Oh, okay. Frugal party planning. I like it.” I nod and tap my finger to my temple.

  He grins and sets down his empty glass, stepping behind me, wrapping me tightly in his arms, his chest pressing against my back as we both watch, oohing and aahing in all the right places. Turns out, his favourites are the loud ones that make your stomach quake, and mine are the ones that sizzle as they fall.

  Where his arms are around me, he feels me shiver. It’s getting colder now, and my thin bomber jacket is more for looks than practicality. The patio heaters aren’t banishing as much of the cold as they should as the temperature drops.

  “Are you cold?”

  When I nod in reply, he pulls away and unzips his own jacket before leaning back against me and tugging the sides around me, so I’m cloaked in his delectable scent, trapped in his jacket with him. I can feel the warmth of his body that’s seeped into the material, and it’s wonderful. His arms go around me, tugging the jacket, so it covers us both as much as possible as he leans down, planting a kiss on my cheek. His breath and mouth are warm on my skin, and I press back into him further.

  I hear his mum, “Aww,” but I don’t look over at her.

  I just enjoy the moment and pretend that he’s not making my heart ache with guilt.

  When the fireworks finish and the last light from them fades away, leaving smoke trails in the sky, Jared turns to his dad. “Maybe we should move the party inside now? It’s getting cold.”

  Kenneth nods. “Good idea. It is getting a bit nippy.” He claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s move inside now before we all catch our deaths.”

  I smile gratefully at Jared.

  Deborah steps to our side. “Jared, can you help your father turn off all the patio heaters and put the covers on the firepits, please, darling?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He nods in reply, and the warmth of his body disappears as he steps away.

  I try not to whimper at the loss of contact. I instantly feel a little vulnerable and lonely. As he walks off with his dad, Jared glances back over his shoulder, catching my eye and winking at me before he proceeds to do the Kris Kross legs-and-jump dance combo, and then he just carries on walking as if nothing happened.

  I burst out laughing just as Deborah smiles and loops her arm through mine.

  “Come on; you can help me unwrap the food.”

  My mood is immediately lifted. She said the magic word.

  “So, Jared tells me you’re a chef?” I ask as I start removing the plastic wrap from the trays and trays of food loaded onto the dining room table.

  My mouth waters at the sight and smell of some of them. There are all sorts of posh nibbles on offer, not just your basic sausage rolls and cheese and pineapple on a stick (though those are there too). There are assorted sliced cooked meats and sandwiches, antipasti, various flavours of chicken skewer, dips, sliced breads, cheeses. It all looks homemade. I’m in heaven.

  “I am. I love to cook. Do you?” she asks.

  I scrunch my nose and shake my head. “I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”

  The next tray I unwrap contains some sort of bacon-wrapped potato bites, and a little groan of desire slips from my mouth. Just as I’m wondering if it’s impolite to start eating them, Deborah pops a honey-glazed sausage in her mouth and winks at me.

  I follow suit and eat a potato bite. My eyes drop closed as the flavour explodes on my tongue. “Oh God, this is amazing. Deborah, you are officially my new hero.”

  She chuckles, her eyes glowing with pride. “You know, you’re probably not a disaster. Maybe you’ve just been cooking the wrong things,” she suggests. “We should exchange numbers. I have lots of simple, easy recipes. I could WhatsApp them to you.”

  She raises one eyebrow in question, and I nod enthusiastically.

  “That would be great. Can I have the recipe for this?” I ask, picking up another bacon-potato thing, which is like an orgasm in the mouth.

  She smiles and nods.

  People are starting to crowd around us now, eagerly picking over the food. I’m jostled as an uncle reaches over and grabs a handful of pork belly skewers.

  “Come with me, Amy,” Deborah says, nodding behind her.

  I follow her into the kitchen, watching quizzically as she digs in a drawer.

  When she finds what she’s looking for—a pen and paper—she smiles and hands it to me. “Here, put your number on there.”

  I do as I was told, jotting my mobile number down.

  She’s watching me, her head cocked to the side, her eyes shining with affection. “You know, you’re not Jared’s usual type,” she says as she pockets my number.

  I frown, unsure if that’s a bad thing or a good thing. “Oh, really? What’s Jared’s usual type?”

  We haven’t really discussed exes, only in passing when he told me his last girlfriend was more interested in his money than him.

  Deborah scrunches her nose in distaste before quickly catching herself and schooling her expression. I feel my affection for her grow even more. “I’ve only met two of his previous girlfriends, neither of whom I liked very much. Both of them were tall, leggy, bimbo types with not very much personality.”

  I frown down at my very much not tall and leggy self.

  Deborah must catch my expression because she steps closer to me and laughs, setting her hand on my arm, squeezing reassuringly. “Don’t w
orry; I can tell by the lingering looks he gives you that he’s very happy with the length of your legs,” she says playfully.

  I feel my cheeks warm and drop my eyes to the floor, my insides squirming with both pride and unease at this conversation. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I’ll be honest; you’re more the type of girl my Theo would bring home. If you’d arrived with the both of them and I didn’t know who you had come with, I would have bet my life on it that you were with Theo. He always goes for lovely, happy, chatty girls like you.” She reaches out and cups my cheek with one hand.

  Her words hit me like a punch to the chest because Theo was my usual type of guy too, not Jared. I don’t have time to expand on that thought though because Jared sticks his head around the door.

  “There you are. I’ve been looking for you. You’re not talking about me in here, are you?” he asks, smirking at me as he steps into the kitchen.

  I teasingly raise one eyebrow. “Yes. Are your ears burning?”

  He grins and waves a hand towards his mother as he steps to my side. “Don’t believe a single thing this woman tells you. She lies.”

  “Cheeky.” Deborah laughs and swats him on the back as she heads out of the room. “Don’t be too long in here, you two.” She winks at me over her shoulder and pulls the door closed behind her.

  “She likes you,” Jared says as soon as we’re alone. A proud smile twitches at his lips, and he steps closer, his eyes wandering my face in such a way that my insides quiver with anticipation. “They all like you. My aunt Theresa wants to keep you forever. I said I’d have to see what I could do.” His finger traces across my cheek and follows the line of my jaw achingly slowly.

  When he presses against me, one arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me flush against him, I can feel every hard inch of him, every coiled muscle, every bit of his power and strength. His eyes meet mine, and I’m so lost that I even forget to breathe. When he dips his head and captures my lips in a kiss, I soften against him. My hands go to his chest, sliding upwards until they rest on his shoulders as his teeth give a gentle scrape across my bottom lip. I whimper into his mouth as my lips part, and his tongue sensuously caresses mine. His hands slide down to my bum, squeezing before tickling their way down my outer thigh, sending ripples of desire through me so strong that I accidentally bite his lip. He chuckles but doesn’t pull back; he just trails little kisses across my cheek until he gets to my ear. I’m almost panting with desire, my fingers digging into the solid cord of muscle on his shoulders.

 

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