My eyes take him in. He looks good in the morning, as I knew he would. Jared wakes up, looking like one of those just-rolled-out-of-bed models, so it is only fitting that his brother does too. He’s wearing black shorts and a loose-fitting white muscle-vest thing that guys wear to the gym. The kind that has the low armpit holes, so you can see the muscles on their ribs when they move. I don’t want to notice that Theo has those rib muscles, but I do.
I gulp and force my eyes away. “I’m making a drink. You want one?” I turn back to the kitchen to keep myself busy.
I pick up the grey canister labelled Coffee and pull off the lid, frowning at the contents. Instead of the instant granules I’m expecting, I’m confronted by little pods.
“Ugh, what in the fresh hell is this?” I turn and show him. “Where’s your coffee, dude? This is a catfish.”
Theo chuckles behind me. “Jared’s idea of luxury. They go in that beast.” He points to the scary-looking silver machine on the countertop.
“Seriously? You don’t just have instant?” I ask.
Theo shakes his head, his eyes glittering with amusement as he folds his arms over his chest and watches me.
“It’s too early for this kind of fuckery,” I grumble, reaching into the pot and pulling out one of the pods.
I take a deep breath and head over to the machine, ready to tackle it. I need my coffee. This thing is going to give up the goods, or I’ll just chew on the granules from the pod. Either way, I’m getting my caffeine fix.
I try everything, lifting the lid, trying the pod this way and that, pressing on buttons, but when it beeps angrily at me, I let out a little growl of frustration and stamp my foot like a petulant child.
“Here, let me.” Theo laughs and steps up behind me, reaching around my body and pulling off a plastic canister from the back of the machine. As he does so, his side bumps against mine, and the bare skin of his arm brushes against mine.
My pulse immediately jumps, and my stomach clenches.
I flinch back and blink at my body’s reaction. “Sorry, sorry. Thanks.” I hand him the pod and step to the side.
My body temperature has bumped up a couple of degrees, and I can’t stop my eyes from raking over his back, over the muscles in his arms, in his shoulders, his long legs. As he leans over the sink and fills the canister with water, the armholes in his shirt expose the tanned skin on his sides and stomach. My fingers itch to reach out and touch him, to see how warm he is, how solid.
Suddenly, my eyes widen in horror as I realise what I’m doing. I’m perving on my boyfriend’s brother. I’m so going to hell.
I shake my head at myself, turning away and putting my head in my hands. But was it really that bad? After all, he looks exactly like Jared. Who’s to say that isn’t the reason I’m attracted to him? Jared turns me on something rotten and almost drives me mad with lust, so it is surely perfectly acceptable that his exact body double would too?
But the guilt doesn’t subside as I try to convince myself I’m not a horrible person. Because it isn’t just the body I’m attracted to in Theo’s case. It was his personality that first made me attracted to him—and to Jared!
Personality is always my first priority in a partner. Personality is what I’ve always sought in a boyfriend and coveted as precious. It doesn’t matter what they look like. I’ve lusted after guys with potbellies and a hairy back all because they made me laugh hysterically. Intelligence, kindness, and a sense of humour are traits I find most attractive. Actual looks are way down my list. It just so happens that the Stone twins have good looks in abundance too.
To distract myself, I decide to probe on a question I’ve been wondering for months: what does my train crush actually do? When I guessed something arty before, I was surprised when Jared told me he was in finance. Now, looking at Theo with his ink-stained hands, I’m thinking I was right about my Man Crush Monday’s profession all along.
I point to his sketchbook. “Is that what you do for a job? Draw cats?”
He smiles over his shoulder. “At the moment, yes. I’m a freelance book illustrator. I draw whatever I get contracted to. I’m currently working on a children’s book series about a homeless cat and his adventures. I’m supposed to have finished the art for book three by tomorrow when I go to London to meet with my publisher, but”—he shrugs and clicks his tongue—“I’m behind.”
I raise my eyebrows at the revelation. A book illustrator. So, all those trips to London were to meet a publisher.
“Wow. Can I …” I look at the sketchbook hopefully and then immediately regret asking. “Sorry, never mind. It’s private. You probably don’t like showing people your work in progress.”
The coffee machine whirs into life, and he grins at me before picking up his pad and holding it out to me. “I don’t mind. Fill your boots.”
Excitement bubbles up inside me, and I turn to the first page, gasping at the beautiful illustration of a tattered, scruffy cat sitting on a fence, looking at the moon. This one has been coloured in bright watercolour type inks and is spectacular. “Wow.”
I carefully leaf through the pages, in awe of his talent. They’re all the same cat in different scenarios that obviously go with the words of the book. As I flick through, I notice they’re not all work-related. Some of them are just random sketches of everyday life: a bus, a lamppost, a coffee cup, a caterpillar, someone’s shoe, a homeless man, a fountain.
Theo scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I get distracted easily, as you can see.” He turns away to make my coffee.
“Clearly.” I grin.
As I’m happily turning pages, examining his art … suddenly, there’s me. A pencil sketch of my profile from my shoulders up. I’m wearing my work uniform. It’s shaded beautifully in pencil, highlights and all, my eyeliner the perfect Cleopatra flick. There is some colour on the sketch, standing out bright and bold against the shades of grey. Some pink streaks in my hair, giving depth to the braid it’s tied into, and my eyes have been inked in a bright, startling blue.
My mouth drops open, as I don’t quite understand what I’m seeing.
“Wait. Is this me?” I say it before I can think through if I even want to know the answer.
He whirls around, and I see the horror on his face as he snatches the book from my hands and literally throws it across the room. We both watch as it flutters to the ground, and some of his pages get bent as it skids across the floor, coming to rest, leaning up against the wall of glass.
“Shit. What? No. What?” His mouth opens and closes like a fish, and I can’t stifle the bubble of laughter that rips its way up from my chest. He groans and closes his eyes. “Okay, yeah, that was you,” he admits.
I chew on my lip, fiddling with my hands as I look over at him. “Why would you draw me? When did you?”
He sucks in a ragged breath. “Couple of months ago, I guess. And why wouldn’t I draw you? You’re gorgeous.”
It’s my turn to make the fish mouth this time as I lose the ability to speak.
He takes my cup from under the coffee machine as it lets out one last burst of steam and then puts another under for himself. “Okay, just so we put all our cards on the table, want to know a funny story? Well, it’s not actually funny; it’s kinda tragic when you think about it.” He laughs nervously and rakes a hand over his face as he shakes his head. “For months, I’ve sat on your train and thought you were amazing and cute as hell. I tried several times to ask you out, but it never quite computed with you.”
I frown, confused by his words. “What? No.”
Theo reaches up and rubs at the back of his neck, his eyes firmly latched on the floor. “Yep. Several times. Remember those tickets I had to Comic Con and I told you my friend had dropped out last minute and that I was going on my own? And I asked what your weekend plans were?”
A lump has formed in my throat. I nod. It was about two months after he first started boarding my train. I remember when he was telling me about it. I was so nervous around him that
I barely managed to hold myself together that day.
He shrugs, and his eyes meet mine. “Yeah, obviously, I didn’t want to go on my own.”
Oh my God. My eyes widen in shock.
He smiles awkwardly. “And remember that time I told you that the train coffee sucked and that there was a really good bakery I knew in the city that you needed to try?”
I gasp.
He sighs. “Admittedly, I should have just come right out and asked you on a date. I was working up to it but never quite had the balls. I always thought, I’ll get her number next time. But then, a few weeks ago, you weren’t on the train, and I was worried you’d been transferred or left or something and I’d missed my chance.”
“I was on holiday for two weeks,” I croak.
Understanding crosses his face, and he nods. “Ah, okay, that explains that then. And then, of course, the next time I saw you on the train, you kissed me.”
I wince and press my hands to my cheeks as they flame with embarrassed heat.
He chuckles wickedly. “I really thought my luck was in that day. But then you just kind of ran off after and shouted you’d speak to me later. I waited around for as long as I could to see if you’d come and find me on the platform, but you didn’t, and I had no way of contacting you. Fast-forward almost two weeks, and imagine my surprise when I show up at my father’s sixtieth birthday bash and meet my brother’s new girlfriend, and it turns out that she’s the girl I’ve been secretly fantasising about for months.”
Oh Christ.
He fancies me too.
I don’t know what to do with this information. I just look at him with wide eyes, feeling like someone is gripping my heart with an icy-cold hand.
He shrugs. “But it’s too late now. You’re with my brother. And I’m happy for you both. Jared is my best friend as well as my brother. I love him to death, and I want to see him happy even if it makes me jealous as hell.”
I can barely breathe as this all sinks in.
He smiles boyishly and shrugs one shoulder in a what’re you gonna do gesture as he puts on a funny voice. “The moral of the story, kids … if you fancy someone, just ask them out before someone else does and you miss your chance.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that when he was noticing me on the train, I was noticing him too. That I thought I was dating him all this time. But I don’t. I can’t do that to Jared.
“I … I …” I wince, not knowing what to say. I clear my throat and try again, knowing I need to put a stop to this. “I don’t think we should continue with this conversation.”
He nods in agreement, pressing his lips together. “I agree. Here, a peace offering.”
He turns and reaches into a top cupboard, bringing down a round metal tin. As he turns back to me and pries the lid off, I smile gratefully and reach into the tin, picking out a biscuit.
“Ah, she likes a digestive. Interesting choice,” he says, choosing a custard cream. “Let’s dunk on it and agree never to mention it again.”
I chuckle and nod, knocking my biscuit against his before breaking it in half and dunking it in my coffee for a couple of seconds before eating it, watching as he does the same with his.
I’m on my third biscuit when two arms close around me from behind.
I squeal in fright, and Jared laughs, his chest rumbling against my back as he nuzzles into my neck, saying, “Good morning, beautiful.” He looks from me to the biscuit tin to Theo, who’s boosted himself up on the kitchen worktop, chewing noisily, brushing crumbs onto the floor from his lap. “Ah, the breakfast of champions. How healthy,” Jared muses playfully.
Theo scrunches his nose up. “Hey, I know what your underlying problem is here. It’s envy. You watch what you eat and exercise every day and look like that. I eat whenever I want and look exactly the same.” He holds up his hands and smugly tilts his head. “I’m just saying, don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
Jared laughs. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. It’s too early for your riddles.” He plants a soft kiss on the side of my neck, and I turn to look at him over my shoulder as his hands slip under my T-shirt, gently caressing my stomach. “Are you feeling better today?”
His eyes are my undoing. They’re so sincere and caring that it makes my heart ache. The weight of everything comes crashing down on top of me again. Looking at him makes me feel awful, and I’m silently berating myself for something I didn’t have any control over. Looking at Jared makes me feel so shameful that I want to punch myself in the face because he is wonderful, a thoughtful, caring man … but he isn’t the one I first fell in love with all those months ago.
Looking into his eyes, I honestly don’t know if I am just with him because of who I thought he was or if I am actually in love with him. When you take all the quirky, nerdy Theo stuff away, do Jared and I have anything in common at all? We’re direct opposites, not each other’s types at all.
“Amy?” he prompts, raising one eyebrow when I don’t answer.
I grind my teeth and nod. “I’m fine today, thanks.”
“Good.” He smiles and dips his head, planting a kiss on my lips, his hands tightening on my waist as he presses himself against me.
A feeling of cold mortification grips my stomach because Theo, who not ten minutes ago admitted that he was jealous, has to watch this. It isn’t right. Not in front of Theo. And maybe not even at all. I don’t know what I want. The swirling confusion is back, made worse by the easy, fun time I had with Theo in the kitchen. That was our first real proper chat—something I would have given anything for a couple of months ago—and now, I’m kissing his brother.
I’m hurting everyone right now, including myself, but I feel powerless to stop it. Guilt and horror consume me, and I pull away, putting my hand on his chest and pushing him back a little to get some space.
He doesn’t notice my unease and lovingly brushes my hair behind my ear with one finger. “What shall we do today?”
I shake my head and say the first excuse that pops into my brain, “I’m going to my mum’s house. She called Friday and asked me to come over today. I forgot. I just remembered.” As I say the words, I realise how much I need them to be true. I need to speak to my mum, talk things through with someone who won’t judge me, someone who knows Jared and can help me see sense in this whole clusterfuck situation. I also need one of my nanna’s hugs.
He raises one eyebrow. “Yeah? Okay. I could come? Drive down there, save you getting the train?”
“No.” But I’m too quick to answer; it comes out a little aggressive and forceful.
Both of them notice, and Jared’s forehead creases with a frown that I long to smooth away with my finger.
“Is everything okay?” His eyes are searching mine.
I can see the concern there, and it makes me feel worse because he shouldn’t have to worry about me. I don’t deserve his concern. I hate that he’s worried about me. I want to throw my arms around him and tell him everything’s going to be okay, but I can’t because I don’t know if it will be.
I force a smile and set my hand on his bare chest, feeling the heat of him under my palm and the steady thump of his heart. My own heart gives a sympathetic squeeze in time with his. This is painful.
“Sorry. Yes, everything’s fine.” I go up on my tiptoes and kiss him, hating myself, loving the kiss, loving his taste, hating that Theo is watching. What an oxymoron. My guilt is overwhelming, and I can feel tears prickle at the backs of my eyes.
With Jared’s arms wrapped around me and his mouth on mine, I silently wish I hadn’t gone to that party at all last night, that I’d never had the truth revealed about Theo. Jared had been making me blissfully happy for weeks before I knew that he wasn’t the man I thought he was. Doesn’t that count for something? Or is what we have not enough now that I know Theo has been there, waiting in the wings, my perfect man?
I pull back and put on a brave face even though my heart is breaking inside. “I should
go get dressed. Would you drive me to the train station?”
Jared’s eyes are locked on mine. I can tell he’s trying to drag the hidden truth from them, sensing something’s wrong but not knowing what. He blinks a couple of times and sighs before giving me a little nod. “Course.”
His arms drop from my waist as I step away. I miss them immediately.
twenty.two
After kissing Jared good-bye outside the station, I’m crying so much that I give myself hiccups, and the lady I’m seated opposite on the train buys me a cup of tea and a jam doughnut to try to cheer me up. I can’t seem to stop myself. The kiss was so beautifully bittersweet. I wasn’t sure if it was just on my end, but it felt like it was weighted with sadness. It felt like a last kiss. And that knowledge felt like someone was slowly cutting my heart out.
By the time I get to Mum’s, my nose is blocked, my forehead is red and blotchy, and my throat is sore. I didn’t call them to tell them I was coming, so when I let myself in the back garden, they both look up, startled.
“Amy? What’s happened, sweetheart?” Mum asks, dropping the gardening tools and throwing off her gloves as I rush to her and throw my arms around her, fresh tears wetting her shirt.
I cling to her, unsure of where to even start.
Nanna walks up, wrapping her arms around the both of us. The warmth and comfort of their combined hug is like sinking into a warm bath after a long day.
“Has something happened with Jared? Have you two …” Nanna asks, trailing off.
I whimper and pull back, my chin wobbling as I struggle to catch my breath. “It’s all ruined,” I croak.
Mum strokes my hair, her forehead wrinkling in concern.
Nanna cups my cheek with her hand, and her eyes wander my face. “Is this why they call it an ugly cry?”
“Mum!” Mum elbows Nanna in the side in reprimand, but the joke lightens the mood fractionally, and I suck in a deep breath, trying to articulate this whole horrific misunderstanding.
Man Crush Monday Page 19
