Page 11 of Sin With Me
Probably warning her about me.
“Babe, this is Wilder,” he tells her, then shifts his attention to me. “This is Delilah Fanning.”
I hold out my hand and she takes it, smiling sweetly. “It’s a pleasure to meet the woman brave enough to date my lookalike.” I wink.
Her face tilts with scrunched eyebrows as if she can’t believe how similar we look. “It’s great to finally meet you, too. I’ve heard so much already.”
“They’re all lies, I swear,” I quip.
“You’re saved by the burden of proof.” She smirks, but now I’m the one tilting my head because I’ve heard that exact phrase in that same sweet voice before.
One I’ve missed hearing.
And I do recognize her but not for the reason Waylon would assume.
Delilah…Delly. She gave me her nickname, not her full name.
Whenever the impulse to cut rushes through my mind, it’s her voice in my head I focus on. It’s not one I could ever forget.
I’ve called the hotline once a week since then to check if she’d returned.
It’s been weeks since we talked, but I’ve continued fighting against touching a razor blade. When I get the urge to grab it, I hear her reminding me it’ll pass. I hold my breath and exhaleas I count down from thirty when my chest is tight. I remind myself of our conversations and hold onto them when I’m down.
I even threw out the blades because I hoped I’d get to speak to her again and wanted to make her proud. In fact, I was living for the possibility of hearing it in her voice—have been dying to hear it—and now she’s standing in front of me and I can’t even tell her what she’s helped me accomplish.
“Sorry I can’t say the same. He’s only recently told me about your existence,” I drawl, turning my focus to Waylon.
And I was right when I guessed she was beautiful.
Fuckingstunning.
Long blond hair curled into waves down her back, bright blue eyes that I can’t stop staring into, and luscious pink lips.
If she wasn’t my type to a tee, I might find this a hilarious coincidence, but her dating my twin brother when she spent half a year talking to me on the phone isn’t the kind of irony I expected.
I haven’t stopped thinking about her since our first conversation. It’s crazy to think how I’m not even that same person anymore, thanks to her.
If I believed in fate, I’d say that’s what made me call the same night she was volunteering and made us meet. If someone else had picked up that night, the past six months would’ve gone differently.
Although I still struggle with depression and the urge to cut still lingers in my mind when it gets bad, she gave me the strength and confidence to fight through it instead of give in to it.
Go fucking figure, I finally meet her in person and can’t even tell her it’s me without admitting I gave her a fake name. Facing her after confessing all my dirty, dark secrets plus the times I called her drunk would be humiliating.
And I’d have to pretend my feelings for her didn’t exist because Waylon deserves to be happy. He has taken care of me most of our lives and I’ve never seen him look at a woman the way he’s looking at her.
But worse, I don’t want to see that look of pity and concern that’ll inevitably flash across her face when I tell her. I get that enough from Waylon and my own reflection.
So I’ll say nothing and pretend it never happened.
Even if it kills me.
Chapter One
Wilder
PRESENT DAY
What’s that condition where you’re secretly obsessed with your twin’s ex-girlfriend?
