Page 29 of Twice as Twisted

Once, I might have thought I wanted that. Maybe I still do. I’m not scared to get to know Baron, or even his brothers, if they’re part of the package. But I’m scared of letting them know me, risking what they could find out about me, that under my marred skin, I’m so much more than beige. I’m scared that I’m too peculiar, not nearly enough of the things boys want and too much of the things they don’t. That they’ll see the monster I am, put me back in my cardboard cage, the padded room of my life, and walk away.

But what if they don’t?

I throw myself forward, stopping the door and wedging myself into the doorway with Colt.

“He’s my friend,” I tell my brother sourly, my heart hammering at the near miss.

He snorts. “You really think a Dolce wants to be your friend?”

“Yes,” I say, holding my head high and squaring my shoulders. “You’re allowed to have whatever friends you want. So am I.”

“Devlin got mixed up with them, and look what happened to him,” he points out.

What happened to him is that he drowned, too lost in their sister to notice the rising waters until they washed away.

“I’ll stay away from the river,” I tell my brother.

“That’s not what I mean,” Colt says. “But you know that.”

“It’s not his fault that Devlin and Crystal didn’t pay attention to a flash flood,” I point out.

Duke flinches, like hearing his sister’s name physically pains him.

I spin that information into my web, a spider adding another fly to her collection.

“You don’t know what guys are like,” Colt says. “Especially these guys.”

“I can take care of myself,” I grit out, glancing at Duke in embarrassment. “I’ve been doing it my whole life, and you never cared until now.”

I don’t want Duke to know that I’ve never had a boyfriend, that no boy has ever knocked at my door before. That I don’t know what guys are like because none have ever liked me.

Colt frowns down at me, and I can see the concern in his eyes. I appreciate it in some way, but that kind of thing has never swayed me. “You never made a mistake like this until now,” he says quietly.

“It’s my mistake to make,” I plead, dropping my voice to match his volume. “It’s not your job to protect me. You’re not my father, and this isn’t the fourteenth century.”

“You can’t stop her,” Duke says, finally chiming in. “She’s going to do what she wants, even if she has to sneak around to do it. Trust me, we had this same conversation with our sister. See how much good it did? If we’d let her date your brother, maybe she’d still be here.”

Colt frowns harder, his lips tightening as he glances from Duke, to me, back to Duke.

Finally, he shakes his head and turns to walk away. “It’s your funeral.”

Triumph swells inside me, and I bite back a smile. Duke watches my brother go for a few seconds, then turns his attention to me. When he sees my hidden smile, a big, easy grin spreads over his face, and I halfway expect him to whoop and pump a fist. Instead, he bounds past me like an overeager puppy, finding the stairs without instruction and thundering up them in his excitement.

I follow, uncomfortable with his exuberance. The boys in my family have a simmering sort of energy, the kind they unleash in fights and football games and girls’ beds, but it’s always contained until then. I’m not used to the reckless sort that spills out so chaotically, so messy and public that I’m second-hand embarrassed by it. Duke doesn’t seem to share my reservations. He stops and waits for me at the top of the stairs, gesturing to the hall.

“Which one’s yours?”

I point it out, and he takes the lead with complete confidence. I take a moment to gather myself. As humiliating as it is for him to have witnessed Colt acting like that to me, at least he’ll think that’s why I’ve never dated. Even in this day and age, an overprotective father is a valid reason, especially in the south.It’s better for them to think my parents wouldn’t let me date than to know the truth. Then they’d wonder why, what’s wrong with me, and what other guys see that they haven’t yet.

Inside my room, I close the door and turn back to face Duke, only to find him already lounging in the chair by my desk. Boots crouches under the edge of the bed, his wide eyes watchful, but my guest doesn’t seem to have noticed him.

“I thought I told you not to wear something too sexy,” he says, lacing his fingers behind his head.

I let out a snort as I look down at myself—bare feet, baggy sweatpants, loose t-shirt. My face is bare, and my hair is thrown up in a messy bun. He’s not dressed up either, but in his Celine jeans and Balenciaga sneaks, he doesn’t look like he was planning on lounging in his room all evening.

“Come here,” he says, wetting his lips as he looks me up and down.

“Why?” I ask, suddenly realizing what a stupid move I made. I was so determined to prove to Colt I could handle myself, that I can make my own decisions, that I didn’t really listen to him, and now it’s too late. I hadn’t realized what it would feel like to be in my bedroom with a boy. I’ve never been completely alone with a boy before, certainly not in my private domain.

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