Page 77 of How to Win the Girl

“We’re done with practice,” he tells me seriously. “We’re in our off-season.”

Ha. “I knew that. I was kidding because you’re acting like you don’t remember me, and we went out last night.” I pause. “Or maybe I’m not as memorable as I thought I was.”

“Maybe…you think I’m someone else. I have a twin brother.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Nope, pretty sure you’re the you I’m talking to. We’ve been in this class all semester, and the last two we spent talking.”

Drew looks down at me. “Trust me, you and I have never spoken.”

He looks sincere.

He sounds sincere.

“Then how would I know how you got that scar on your eyebrow from some kid in pee wee football?”

Drew stares at me. “I don’t have a scar on my eyebrow.”

My eyes travel from his eyes to his brows.

Shit.

He’s right—there is no scar in the center of his brows.

He groans just then, running a hand down his face. “Drakedoes.”

I open my mouth.

Close it.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Do you think he…?”

“Pretended to be me? Totally. I had him audit this class for me because I was behind on another project for another class.”

“Why would he lie?”

Drew—therealDrew Colter—shrugs. “He’s trying to find me a girlfriend.”

He says it so matter-of-factly. As in, no big deal, I’m used to it.

“But he gave me his number. Er, your number.”

“Let me see your phone.”

I fish it out of my back pocket, poke on Drew’s name, poke on info.

He shakes his head. “Yeah, this isn’t my phone number, it’s his. He’s pretending to be me but gave you his actual phone number?” He hands my phone back. “He really sucks at this covert dating business.”

When he hands it back, I stare down at my phone, the tiny illuminated screen with the name Drew Colter glowing back at me.

Drew laughs, sounding so much like his twin it’s hard to reconcile the two people as not being the same. Though now that I’m looking at him, I can spot at least one difference: the way his lips don’t smile as much, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the small indentation in one of his cheeks.

“So all this time I’ve been talking to your brother?”

He grimaces. “In his defense, he did tell me about you.”

My spirits rise. “He told you about me?”

“Yeah. He wanted me to go on a date with you.” His features scrunch up. “I think it was last week?”

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