And there she is, sitting in the stands about a third of the way down, snuggled in next to a dark-haired guy in a black t-shirt and jeans with tatted forearms. They’re sipping on coffees, their bodies turned in towards one another, wholly oblivious to the pair of teenagers skating on the ice.
Yeah, this guy has to go. I growl low in my throat, stomping forward.
“Caleb,” Mars says in that warning voice.
As if she can sense us too, Rachel’s head pops up. Her eyes look pink and puffy, like she’s been crying.
Oh, what the fuck.Whoever this guy is, he’s fucking dead.
She murmurs something to him, and he sits back on the bench with a cocky smirk, watching us approach. And because he has a death wish, he slings his arm over her shoulder and gives me a wink.
“Rachel, who the fuck is this guy?”
Well, shit. The words are apparently out of my mouth before I’ve even had a chance to finish thinking them. And she’s already turned to him, shoving him off, saying something I can’t hear. Mars is right behind me, his big hand on my shoulder.
The cooler, slimmer version of me has the nerve to laugh, elbowing her in the side as he leans forward and says, “I’m her husband. Who the fuck are you?”
87
“Harrison!” I cry, slapping him in the chest. God, he’s such a little instigator. Between him and Caleb, I don’t know who is worse. At least we’re alone, which is why I dragged Harrison in here in the first place. The next closest person to us is the figure skating coach standing down at the far end of the rink messing with the Bluetooth speakers.
My idiot twin cracks himself up, laughing at Caleb’s expense. Mars stands behind Cay, one hand on his shoulder, as if he needs physical restraining. Before I can choose between going to soothe Caleb or pushing Harrison from the top of the bleachers, a new voice enters the fray.
“Oh, hoooooly shit! Is it twin o’clock up in here?”
All four of us turn to see Jake walking down the rink from the opposite direction, a huge smile on his face. He climbs up the bleachers, holding out a hand to my brother. “Harrison, right? So great to meet you, man.”
Taken slightly aback, Harrison holds out his hand and lets Jake shake it.
“How did you know we were here?” says Caleb.
“Mars texted me,” Jake replies. “Not a moment too soon. Novy and Morrow were being super weird tryna get me to buy them breakfast.”
Caleb goes still, his expression carefully veiled.
Jake turns all his attention back to my brother. “God, you know, I bet you get this a lot, but you lookjustlike your dad,” he says, glancing between us. “You’re right, Seattle. You make a very handsome dude,” he adds at Harrison with a wink.
“I’m happily married,” Harrison replies, extracting his hand from Jake’s grip.
“You’re her twin,” Caleb mutters.
Recovering his snark, Harrison smirks at him. “Yeah. And you must be the Tweedle Dumbass of the group.”
Jake snorts as he plops down on the bleachers a row down from us. “Tweedle Dumbass…” He glances over at Caleb. “I think I might like that more than Snuffy—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Caleb mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And you must be the Swede,” says Harrison, his eyes now on Ilmari.
“Finn,” Mars and I say at the same time.
“What did I say?” Harrison says, glancing at me.
“You said Swede,” I reply. “That’s a whole other country, H.”
“Right,” he laughs. “Well…these are the guys, right? What are you calling them—your boyfriends? Your squad? Your pussy posse?”
Jake snorts, his mouth open like he’s about to speak.