Man Crush Monday

by Kirsty Moseley

  “We should go rejoin the party before I pick you up and fuck you against this counter.” His voice is a husky growl in my ear that sends a shot of desire to the pit of my stomach, and I can’t think of a single good reason why he shouldn’t do exactly that. “Amy, you’re so bloody hot. Sometimes, I just can’t stand it.”

  I gulp and gently push him away from me, trying to get some space to calm my racing heart and raging hormones. “Jared …” It’s barely above a whisper, more like a plea, but I don’t know what I’m pleading for—for him to stop or for him to never stop.

  I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of lust that’s settled over me as my fingers curl around his shirt, not letting him get too far away from me. He’s driving me insane.

  “I just need a minute.” He blows out a big breath and steps back another step, running a hand through his hair.

  My eyes instinctively drop down to his crotch. I can see how excited he is, his lust matching my own, just thankfully mine isn’t noticeable from outside, unlike his.

  Our eyes meet, and we both laugh.

  By the time we both calm down enough to join the party again, it’s in full swing. People are dancing and chatting, laughing and eating, scattered around the living room in large groups. Off to one side, Theo is dancing elaborately with Carys, swinging her around, and the pair of them are being generally outlandish with their crazy, over-the-top dance moves. It’s clear that Theo is the life and soul of the party and is happiest being the centre of attention. I can see now why she said he was Funcle Theo.

  I can’t take my eyes off him. It’s so weird, seeing it. This is what I imagined my crush was like—the happy-go-lucky guy on the train who chatted to everyone. This is the type of guy I usually go for, the loud one who makes everyone laugh by being the clown and is happy in his own skin, outwardly confident. Seeing a guy who looks exactly like Jared being so silly and free makes it even more thrilling to witness. My skin prickles with sensation, and I rub my hand up my arm, feeling the goosebumps there.

  I gulp and sneak a glance over at Jared. He’s in the middle of a very grown-up-sounding conversation with an uncle about his job and how it’s going. He’s the opposite of his brother. He’s quieter, more reserved, seeming content to stay in the shadows and let other people shine. Tonight, he’s more like what he was like last night with his work colleagues—polite and a little standoffish. There are none of the free smiles that Theo is throwing around like they’re going out of fashion.

  The difference between the twins is so stark that I silently wonder how I didn’t know they were two different people. The extraverted train guy who I fell so completely in love with and the quiet, introverted, OCD, organised guy I’ve been dating for the last six weeks. I swallow the lump that’s rapidly forming in my throat. How did I not notice? Even the way they hold themselves is different. Jared is all straight back and stiff shoulders, exuding quiet confidence, looking like he is ready to reason through any problem. Theo is more relaxed, his shoulders looser, more casual, like he has no idea where life will take him but he’s excited for the ride.

  They are the complete opposites. Mirror twins. I muse it over. Not just in looks, but in everything, they seem to be the opposite of one another.

  The party comes to a close around eleven with all the older members of the family leaving not long after the last bite of food is devoured. As we say our good-byes to his parents and promise to come back soon, Jared wraps his arm around me tightly and leads me towards his car, pressing the key fob to unlock it.

  Suddenly, Theo streaks past. “Shotgun!” he calls, heading for the passenger side, wrenching the door open, and climbing in.

  Jared groans. “Theo, don’t be a dick all your life. Let Amy sit in the front.”

  Theo shrugs, grinning at me. “Can’t, sorry. I already called it. Snooze, you lose, Amy. Better luck next time.”

  “Theo, you’re not five. Get out of the car and let Amy sit in the front. You’re a grown-arse adult; you can’t call shotgun!”

  I wave a hand and stifle a laugh at the incredulity in his voice. “It’s fine. I only have little legs anyway; you two giants take the front.”

  Jared scowls at his brother for a few seconds, and when it becomes apparent that Theo’s not going to move, he groans and reaches for the driver’s seat, collapsing it forward so I can climb over it and slide in the back.

  Once I’m in, he rights the seat and climbs in, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “Do you have enough room?”

  “Yep.” I nod, buckling up my seat belt and wriggling to get more comfortable on the leather seat.

  Theo turns and smirks at his brother. “Maybe if you didn’t have such a ridiculously small car, I wouldn’t mind sitting in the back. No one needs a tiny sports car unless they’re compensating for a small dick.” He quirks one eyebrow at Jared, who sighs deeply.

  “If I did, you’d have the same affliction, wouldn’t you? You literally just insulted yourself, genius.” He rolls his eyes and puts the car into gear, pulling out into the road and flashing his lights at his parents, who are standing on the doorstep, waving enthusiastically.

  I send them a wave even though they likely can’t see me in the dark.

  As Jared makes the twenty-minute drive back to his place, I look between the two of them. My brain won’t switch off. Theo is so chatty that I’m reminded of why I fell in love with him in the first place. His personality was why I was so attracted to him on those Mondays on the train. He is so my type that, on paper, I couldn’t have made up a more perfect man for me. Jared, on the other hand … isn’t my type at all.

  The guilt of that knowledge is crushing and painful. I’m with Jared; we’ve been dating six weeks now … but it was his brother that I fell for. How do I reconcile that? My life went from fairy-tale to horror story in just a couple of seconds.

  I feel awful. My head is beginning to hurt. It’s all becoming too much, and I just want to go home and have some alone time, maybe cry myself to sleep over this whole catastrophic situation.

  Tears prickle in my eyes, and I know a meltdown is imminent. But I can’t think of a single good reason to get out of staying with Jared tonight.

  When we pull up outside their building, Jared tips the seat again and holds out a hand to help me out of the car. Ever the gentleman. Then, he grabs my overnight bag from the boot and leads me inside the building.

  Theo opens their apartment door, and Jared’s body immediately stiffens against mine.

  “Theo, ugh, what is that smell?” He turns his nose up and reaches for the light switch.

  The scent wafts over me too, and I recoil. It’s some sort of gone-off, stale, greasy food smell.

  As the apartment is bathed in light, Jared groans. “Bloody hell, you’re a slob! I was only gone one night! What even is that?”

  I look in the direction he’s looking—the kitchen. Their beautiful marble worktop is covered with dirty saucepans, used plates with congealed food and ketchup, crumbs, spillages, and a sink full of washing up.

  “Blimey, calm down and eat a Snickers or something,” Theo teases. “I made burritos; that’s all. I’ll clean it; don’t worry.”

  Jared turns back to me and shoots me an apologetic smile as he leads me into their apartment. He tuts noisily as he catches sight of the living room too. There are more used plates and cups in here, and their coffee table is covered in paper and art materials.

  I step out from under Jared’s arm and can’t help but look around their place with fresh eyes. Now that I know they’re twins and the complete opposites, my gaze wanders over the things in his apartment that I noticed when I was here before. The stuff that is so me—the Marvel statues, the books, the posters. How much of the stuff that I love in here belongs to my boyfriend and how much of it belongs to the guy I’ve been in love with for five months before I even met my boyfriend?

  I decide I need to ask. It seems important.

  “Who has the Marvel collection?” I ask, nodding to th
e statue collection on the shelf, praying that it’s Jared’s. Just some redeeming feature, something to hold on to of the things I thought I knew and loved about him.

  Theo steps closer to them and grins like a proud father. “You like them? They’re mine.”

  It’s like another little jab to the heart. Something else to add to the tally list of things I’ve gotten wrong.

  Jared flops down onto the sofa, leaning forward and starting to tidy away Theo’s pencils and charcoals into the tin, piling up the loose papers and sketches, stacking up the empty, dirty plates that Theo let build up while Jared was staying at mine.

  “He started collecting them years ago. They’re slowly taking over the place.” Jared sighs and shakes his head, but I can tell by his playful tone that he doesn’t dislike them too much.

  Theo notices the one I’m looking at—Storm from X-Men—and smiles. “Ororo Munroe. Or Storm, as she’s better known. Omega-level mutant, absolute badass in the comics.”

  He picks it up and hands it to me. I take it carefully, turning it this way and that, looking her over. She’s gorgeous, mid-spell, hair flying everywhere, white eyes, her white-and-gold cape flowing. It’s stunning.

  “She was always my favourite as a kid,” I admit. “Plus, she was married to Black Panther for a while too. Power couple alert.” I grin over at him as I cautiously put it back down.

  Theo smiles down at me, seeming both shocked and impressed by my knowledge. “Ooh, you know your stuff.” He nods over his shoulder at Jared. “Dumbass doesn’t like superheroes.”

  Jared bristles and shrugs. “I don’t mind them. I’m just not all jizz my pants about it like you are.”

  I chuckle and point at Theo. “Burn.”

  Jared laughs behind me and stands. “Shall we go to bed, Amy?” He raises one eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips, the meaning clear.

  Theo obviously catches the hidden meaning, too, because he makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat and rolls his eyes. “Try to keep the noise down, huh? Remember I have to look you guys in the eye tomorrow.”

  I force a smile as Jared playfully punches his brother in the arm before holding out a hand to me. With one last look at Theo, I put my hand in Jared’s and allow him to pull me to his room.

  As we step inside, my eyes widen. I’ve been thinking about what his bedroom would be like for the last few weeks, wanting to see inside, to really get to know Jared, but the room is … disappointing. It’s practically bare. There are no personal touches around at all. The king-size bed and the large padded headboard mounted on the wall are the focus of the room. There are no pictures or art on the wall, no colours splashed around. It’s plain and neat and a little bit boring. The fitted furniture blends into the background and is barely noticeable. It’s almost as if he only just moved in and put his clothes away in the wardrobe. The only thing that screams lived-in in this bedroom is the dressing table; instead of being a dressing table, he has the area set up like an office. There are neat stacks of files with colour-coded notes paper-clipped onto them on his desk, a pot of pens, a packet of the strawberry sweets the same as his car ones, and a corkboard with lots of stuff pinned on it. It’s all so methodical and tidy and so Jared.

  I turn back to make a joke about what a neat freak he is, but as the door clicks closed, he immediately starts making those eyes at me. The ones that make my tummy flutter, my panties wet, and my thighs weak as my hormones go into overdrive.

  But I’m just not in the mood tonight. My mind is still spinning, and my heart still aches. There’s a pounding starting behind my eyes—either from too much thinking or from the alcohol, I’m not sure which—but as Jared approaches me, his eyes all sultry and predatory, I shoot him an apologetic look and shake my head.

  “I’m sorry. I have a headache. Do you mind if we don’t tonight?” I ask, taking his hands as he reaches for the bottom of my shirt.

  I’m so confused. I just need to sleep and turn my brain off. Hopefully, I’ll wake in the morning with a fresh perspective, and I can stop this horrible, sinking feeling inside me.

  His expression changes immediately, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as he steps closer to me and gently cups my face in his hands. “Of course. Are you okay? Why didn’t you say anything?” He dips his head and plants a soft kiss on my forehead.

  I close my eyes and melt against him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my face into his chest. His smell is calming, soothing. I can hear his heart thumping steadily in his chest, and I feel an ache settle over me.

  Why did tonight have to happen? We had been going so well, ticking along so nicely, and our relationship was blossoming into something amazing, but then Theo had to come along and pull the rug out from under us. Nothing is the same now, not even hugging him. My guilt is eating me up, ruining the moment, ruining everything I thought I knew.

  Jared eases back from my embrace, but I’m not willing to let go yet, so I tighten my arms around him, locking my hands around my wrists so he’s trapped in a little cage-like grip. He kisses the top of my head, his hot breath tickling my scalp, causing my skin to tingle.

  “Amy, if you let me go, I’ll get you some tablets.” He reaches behind his back and pries my hands apart, stepping back and shooting me a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be right back. You get in the bed.”

  He steps away from me before I can voice my protest and heads out of the door, leaving me alone in his bare, immaculate bedroom, where there’s not a single thing out of place. Tears well in my eyes, and I look up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to try to banish them.

  By the time he comes back into the room, carrying a glass of water in one hand and two pills in the other, I’m just changing into my Bagpuss shorts and T-shirt pyjamas. He patiently watches me as I swallow the pills and then slip into his bed. His smell engulfs me; it’s exquisite and painful at the same time. I love it; I hate it. I want to smother myself in it and run away from it in equal measure. I’m so conflicted that my head gives another throb. I can’t even keep my eyes open to watch him undress, which is something I would never normally miss.

  He turns off the light and slides into the bed next to me, wrapping me tightly in his arms, his hand softly stroking the back of my hair. I feel my chin wobble as emotion crashes over me. I press my face into his chest and cling to him.

  “I love you,” he whispers, his lips press against my hair as his legs tangle with mine.

  My favourite three words in the world now feel like they stab a hole in my heart. My throat is clogged with guilt. “I love you too,” I mumble against his skin.

  But the thing that hurts the most is the question that keeps revolving around my head: Do I love him … or is it his nerdy, magic-performing twin I am really in love with?

  twenty.one

  I barely sleep. Instead, I spend most of the night lying awake in Jared’s arms, my mind whirling a mile a minute, plagued by questions I don’t know the answers to.

  By eight a.m., I feel absolutely wretched and slightly sick. There’s no fresh perspective this morning, just more confusion and uncertainty. My sleepless night has not helped in the slightest. All I can be positive about is that I hate myself. I hate the situation. I hate that I lied to Jared when he asked me if everything was okay. I hate that I kissed his brother by accident yet still told Jared I loved him, too, last night before he fell asleep, cuddling me so intimately. But mostly, I hate the fact that I know, deep down, that Theo was the one I fell in love with, not Jared.

  I tilt my head and look up at him. He’s still sleeping peacefully, and he looks like something carved by angels. My gaze wanders his face and settles on the little mole under his left eye. It used to be my favourite thing about his face—it still is—but now, that little freckle makes my heart ache for a whole different reason. I long to reach out and touch it, but I don’t want to wake him, so instead, I carefully ease myself from his bed and tuck the covers up around him, tiptoeing out of his room and into the hallway.


  I nip into the bathroom, doing my business and then wincing at my reflection in the mirror because I look like Gene Simmons from Kiss where I haven’t taken my make-up off before bed last night. I use my hands and roughly scrub at my face until I’m semi-presentable. Then, I pad into the kitchen, searching out my first priority—coffee, strong and lots of it.

  “Morning.”

  I jump so hard that I hit my head on the kitchen cupboard and let out a little yelp of surprise and pain as I whirl on the spot. Theo sits at the dining room table, sketchbook balanced on his knee, pen in his hand.

  “Dammit, you scared me,” I wheeze, putting my hand over my heart to quell the thumping.

  He smiles apologetically. “Sorry.”

  “What are you doing up already?”

  He shrugs and pushes himself up from his seat, coming over to the other side of the kitchen island. “Couldn’t sleep. Plus, I’m behind on a project I have to hand in tomorrow, so I’m trying some last-minute catch-up.”

  He sets his drawing pad down on the counter, and I can’t resist a sneak peek. It’s an exquisite picture of a scruffy cat, sitting on a tiled roof. It’s simple yet full of so many intricate details and pen strokes; it’s incredible. I can’t look away from it.

  “Is Jared still asleep?” he asks. When he notices I’m staring at his drawing, he pushes the pad away obviously.

  I drag my eyes away and nod in answer to his question.

  “Wow. He never normally sleeps in. You must have worn him out last night.” He suggestively wiggles his eyebrows, and I can’t help but laugh.