Page 89 of Best Served Cold

“How do you mean?”

“Riv gets bored easily. And when he’s bored, he loses his impulse control. That’s when he does things that get him in trouble.”

“Like what kinds of things?”

“Destructive things,” Zane said. “He liked to take our toys apart to see how they worked when we were kids, but our parents only saw him breaking them and didn’t understand why he was doing it. He never really grew out of that. And he gets easily distracted when doesn’t have something to focus on, so it’s not unusual for him to start and stop a dozen different things and make huge messes or ruin things by accident. Then he gets overwhelmed and can’t finish or undo what he did without help.”

“And the gym helps with that?”

“Any kind of focused activity does. The gym, dancing, gymnastics. Art. Whatever keeps his brain focused and his body busy at the same time.”

“And Gray’s like that too?”

He nodded and lifted one knee. “Not to the same extent.” He kept his gaze fixed on his leg as he rocked it back and forth in a slow arc. “And it’s better now that he’s with Caleb and has someone to help him when he gets in his head. But he does better when he keeps to a schedule and has regular outlets like the gym.”

“You guys did dance and gymnastics?” I asked curiously, but cautiously.

I desperately wanted to hear more. Would asking questions make him shut down?

“We did everything our parents could sign us up for. They didn’t understand that once Riv finds something he loves, that’s all he wants to do. So they put us in every sport they could, thinking the variety would keep him interested instead of letting him focus on the things he was actually interested in. Kinda like that concept of throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing how much of it sticks.”

I snickered.

“What?” He looked at me, his expression wary.

“Just picturing how my mom would have reacted if I ever dared throw spaghetti at her walls.”

His mouth turned up in a smile. “We did it once.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, his grin deepening. “Totally by accident too. We were making mac and cheese and we were fighting over who would get to mix it up. The pot slipped out of our hands and we ended up with a wall full of macaroni and the floor covered with the milk we knocked over.”

I laughed at the mental picture. “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

I laughed harder. Felt it in my stomach. Jesus, when was the last time I’d laughed for real and not forced it?

“Are you those twins who’re super competitive?”

“Fucking A.” He chuckled. “We could turn anything into a dare or a competition. Still can. And no one holds a grudge like River. I can’t tell you how many times he’d get me back for something days or weeks, even months later. When I’d ask why he’d done whatever, he’d just say ‘best served cold’ and I’d spend the next few hours trying to figure out what incident that was in retaliation for.”

“Best served cold?” I asked, my good mood already gone at the mention of dares and competitions. Like I needed a reminder that everything that had happened between us was because of our stupid competitiveness. Why’d I have to bring that up?

“Like that saying revenge is a dish best served cold or however it goes. I swear the only time he’s not impulsive and chaotic is when he’s plotting something. That, and when he’s drawing.” He shook his head gently, like he was breaking free from his thoughts. “But yeah, dance and gymnastics were some of the things we did. We got really into parkour after…we moved here. Didn’t do any lessons or whatever, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Now that he’d said that, it made sense. His dance style, and the crazy moves he and River pulled off, were definitely more parkour than tumbling.

“How old were you when you moved here?”

“Fifteen.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “How’re you feeling? Still buzzed?”

I checked in with my body, even as my mind spun with questions and desperately tried to absorb every little detail of what Zane had said. “Little bit. But it usually takes more than that to really feel it.”

“Fast metabolism?” He tucked his phone away.

“Yup. You can’t tell because I like carbs and sugar.” I patted my stomach. “But that shit usually goes through me fast.”

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