Page 84 of How to Win the Girl

I plop down onto a chair in the kitchen, legs spread, popping open the top of the Tupperware container I'd put there earlier after warming it in the microwave. It's penne pasta with chicken mixed in, and I dumped in some marinara sauce on top of that, too. I was too lazy to cook, as usual, so I'm eating leftovers when my brother walks in through the front door.

Both my hand and fork halt halfway to my open mouth at the sight of Daisy behind him.

Daisy?

Abruptly, I almost stand but remember I’m not supposed to know her intimately, easing myself back into the chair.

They're holding hands.

I do a double take.

Yup—still holding hands, walking through the house into the kitchen, happy as you please.

“Hey, bro.” Drew is grinning ear to ear, pulling Daisy into the light and presenting her like a prize at the county fair. “Drake, I want you to meet Daisy.”

“Hey.” I don’t know whether to nod or grunt or snarl. “We’ve met.”

Daisy lets go of my brother’s hand to shake mine. “Not actually, just online.”

She giggles, clarifying.

Giggles?

It’s a sound I’ve never heard her make—flirty and bubbly and not at all the way she was acting with me. Not that she wasn’t being cute on our date, this is just…different.

As if she’s trying.

Weird.

She’s still offering me that hand; slender with long, delicate fingers. I stare down at that hand as if it were a foreign object I’ve never seen before, and I damn sure don’t want to shake it.

“What…are you guys doin’ here?”

“During class, the silly goof kept pretending not to know me.” Daisy pats my brother on the arm, smiling up at him. “Wouldn’t even sit by me. So during the break, I marched up to him and told him he was taking me on another date whether he liked it or not.”

“I can’t believe how much the two of you look alike.”

She peers at me closely, scrutinizing my face, neck, and chest.

The gash in my eyebrow—the one Drew does not have.

Certainly, she can put two and two together?

Most people can’t, but Daisy? She’s observant and has commented on that scar a few times, so surely…

“That’s the thing with twins,” I mutter sarcastically. “We tend to look alike.”

As if in slow motion, I finally extend my hand so it slides into hers, slowly pumping up and down robotically. I can't very well admit or declare that it was me she'd been on the date with or that I had been lying to her this entire time.

I feel absolutely sick to my stomach watching her standing so close to my brother while her other hand is in mine.

“We’re going up to my room to watch a movie,” my brother says.

“Up to your room?” I repeat. “Isn’t that movin’ a little fast?” I laugh. “The two of you just met.”

“Just met?” Daisy giggles again. “We’ve been chatting off and on for like, two or three weeks, and we were on a date Wednesday. It feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?”

Feels like forever?

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