Page 27 of Tell Me Lies

I’d worn skimpier things for Lennox, back when we were physically active together before the drop of all things, including my heart. Thinking about him hurt when it shouldn’t and my mind drifted to his brother, the elder twin by a good seven minutes. Lennox seemed to resent those minutes, as he did Maxom in other ways, though he idolized his twin in speech and deed constantly.

Lennox would joke around and try to get into whatever business his brother was working on. He would wear the clothes Maxom bought for him, including the shirt I wore the first morning I stayed in their huge house, the mansion overflowing with loneliness and an excess of silence.

The morning Maxom saw me, his eyes latched to my body as though I wasn’t wearing anything at all. The morning our feud started. His glare locked on me, all blue eyes, black hair, hard body. A dangerous, beautiful mortal enemy.

The night breeze tightened my nipples—at least, I pretended that’s what it was—and I wrapped my arms around my waist which did little to warm my body. All I achieved was pulling the violently plunging neckline to my navel where it formed a V in the opposite direction to the one at my waist.

“After this party…” Jacks muttered, “we are going to get you a boudoir shoot, girl.”

“That’s a big hell no.” I shook my head. “Can you see that going wrong? Nude photos all over the Internet, and what if that’s what they search when you send a CV into your dream job? Hello, the boardroom. Yeah, I can see that not going sideways at all.”

Jacks snorted. “At least they’d know everything about you.”

“That they would.”

We approached the frat house. More whistles and catcalls greeted us and the girls behind us. I didn’t even care if they wanted me, or if the calls were for someone else. The outfit was sexy, and my girls put in a hell of a lot of work to make me look sexy. Fuck it, I was a sexy mother, and I refused to be shamed.

I curved the scarlet lips Jacks painted on me, knowing they suited the luscious black glitter woven through my black-and-blue hair. “Let’s make tonight ours.”

Jacks pulled a mini-JD bottle from her purse and downed it in one, passing me a vodka. “Fighting words!”

Music pounded inside the house as well as the inside of my skull. Someone turned up that bass way too high, though I didn’t see anyone complaining. Plenty of people shouted to one another but I couldn’t hear Jacks when she mouthed at me, and my lipreading skills were nonexistent.

Inside the house was the beat-your-brains-in sort of sound, the floor thrumming until the whole building felt like a moving organism with its undulating bodies and heat level that sent sweat rolling between my breasts the moment we stepped inside.

Any more of this and my pasties will pop off.

Jacks waved to a few tall guys I assumed were sports jocks. Lacrosse, football?

I had no idea what sports teams Bramwell U offered, apart from the Sharks swimming team, because I inherited their jersey from the last girl who had my room. I washed it a dozen times before deeming it safe to wear and manchild scentless. For all I knew, the swim team died off years ago and I held one of their few remaining relics.

“Kitchen. Come on,” she yelled into my eardrum.

“We come to a party to go to the kitchen?” I protested to no one at all.

Jacks towed me between flirting couples, dodged slopped beer and stray ping-pong balls—also covered in beer—and dragged me into a brightly lit room that thankfully wasn’t as loud as the rest of the overpopulated house.

“Ahh, retina burn,” I whimpered. I covered my eyes hoping I didn’t transform into a sexy panda in the next twenty seconds.

“It’s okay,” Jacks cooed, patting my arm. “Beer?”

“Ahh…” I opened my eyes to see a red cup filled to the brim with honey-colored liquid I hadn’t watched her pour. On second glance, it came from a tray at the back of the room that was fast emptying. “No, thanks,” I said firmly.

Jacks shrugged and knocked hers back. I promised myself I’d keep an eye on her in the event she got herself roofie’d.

“Might want to watch your friend,” a voice I knew too well murmured into my ear.

I swiveled on my spiked heel, facing the brother I didn’t want to see.

Wait. When did Maxom become the twin I wanted?

But if I was honest, I knew the answer to that question. From the day he looked at me like he needed to devour me just to breathe.

Lennox never looked at me like that. He’d been a fun fling—at first. But his emotions were twisted too deep for me to help him.

Maxom was simpler. Hard need, desire, his wants on display where I could clearly read them. Even if he denied us both. But then there was that orgasm he gave me in my bedroom … maybe the only person he denied was himself.

I swallowed my line of thought and focused on the brother in front of me. “I thought you said we’d be without the D-bros,” I muttered over my shoulder to Jacks.

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