Page 4 of Secrets That We Keep (Forbidden Descendants 2)

Oh, right.

Guys.

Boo, hiss, never mind.

I didn’t want anything to do with a bearer of penises right now. Except maybe one. But he was my brother, so he totally didn’t count. Because brothers didn’t even have real, working boy parts. Or at least, they shouldn’t. That would just be weird. And I was going to stop thinking about weird and odd drunk things now.

Knowing I could always depend on my Gracen, I turned to my nightstand and reached for my phone on top, accidentally knocking over the glass of bourbon and Coke I had sitting next to it.

“Shit.”

Wow, how much had I had to drink? My vision was royally messed up. Trying to blink the foggy world from my eyes, I crawled to the edge of the bed and draped myself over the side, trying to reach for the spilled glass. It hadn’t broken, thank goodness, but a puddle of alcohol and melting ice was staini

ng my carpet.

Ah, fuck it. My fingers couldn’t reach. I’d just deal with cleaning shit up tomorrow.

Returning my attention to my phone, I gave the screen a goofy grin to wake it up, only to snort at the messaging app I still had open, revealing a group text with the girls.

HAVEN: Then what am I supposed to do?

BENTLEY: Whenever he comes back from shopping, just try again. And if you get so close that he tries to escape…

LUCY: Don’t let him.

BELLA: Don’t let him.

TEAGAN: Girl, don’t you dare let him!

Poor Haven had been getting cold feet about seducing her roommate, but we’d encouraged her to try again, anyway.

If all was right in the world, Haven and Wick were currently having a hell of a good time at their place.

Which made misery rumble through my stomach. I wanted to have a good time, too. But a totally different kind. Ergo, I needed my Gracen. Bad.

Flicking my way out of the text messages, I went into my address book to call him. As soon as I saw the Gs, I pushed on his name. At least, I think it was his name.

Close enough.

“Hello?” he answered a few seconds later.

Huh, he sounded funny. Or maybe that was just my drunk ears hearing funny things. Whatever. As soon as he was here, curled up on the couch with me, stuffing me full of hot chocolate and popcorn while we watched reruns of our favorite show together, he could sound as funny as he wanted to.

So I said, “Can you come over? Right now? I really need you tonight.”

And I hung up the phone before he could answer.

That was all I ever needed to say when talking to my twin. He always showed up, just as I knew he would tonight.

Because he got me. We were like—well, imagine me crossing my fingers right now. Yes, we were like that together. People called our close sibling bond weird and unnatural. But we didn’t care. We were each other’s best friend, and we were content with that.

Twenty minutes later, my doorbell rang.

“About damn time,” I grumbled, frowning over the fact that he’d rung the bell. Why in God’s name was Gracen ringing the doorbell? He typically just walked right in whenever he dropped by. Even if the place was locked, he had a freaking key.

“Why are you ringing the—Oh!” I blinked when I saw who was standing on the other side of the entrance.

Definitely not my twin brother.

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