Page 139 of Best Served Cold

“River’s middle name is Presley.”

“Please tell me yours is Elvis.” He grinned, but it still didn’t reach his eyes.

“Ding ding ding.”

He chuckled. “And here I thought having biblical names was bad.”

“What’s your middle name?”

“I have three.”

“That’s excessive.”

“And annoying. My full name is Noah Abraham Thaddeus Matthew Rathbone.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“So am I.”

“Yes, you are.”

His eyes flashed with something that could have been heat, but it died quickly. “So you were forced to do the twin thing,” he summarized.

“Yup. Our parents treated us like we were one person. We shared a room, clothes, toys, friends. Everything. If one of us was interested in something, then we both did it. If one of us went somewhere, the other went too.”

“Did that bother you at all?” He wandered over to where River had dumped a pile of old paintbrushes that were barely usable but he wasn’t ready to part with.

“Nope. We never went through that phase where we wanted to be separated. He’s all I have left.”

Noah shot me a quizzical look but didn’t say anything.

“Do you think you can eat something?”

“I don’t think so.” He raked a hand through his hair.

“How about a protein shake? Just to get some calories into you so your brain can function.”

He smirked, but it was that fake one that I was beginning to hate. “Not sure food is gonna solve my stupid problem.”

“You don’t have a stupid problem.”

“Lots of people would beg to differ.”

“Well, lots of people are idiots. Did you shower today?”

He shook his head, his eyes on the floor.

“How about you go shower, and I’ll make you a shake.”

He gave me a strange look.

I wanted to offer to help him with his shower, even if it was just getting the water ready for him. Would that be weird?

“This way.” I waved for him to follow me into the tiny bathroom.

“This wasn’t designed for tall people.” He eyed the showerhead, which was at throat level, and the tiny shower stall.

“It was not. At least the water pressure is decent.”

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