Page 69 of The Twins

“Bullshit,” I blurt out.

“I love it when you’re mouthy, but you need to talk to me. Be a good—”

“Don’t. Please,” I urge him. My shoulders slump, and I look away from him. “You’re leaving. It’s fine. It was nice knowing you.”

“I’ve made contacts where you work, and they informed me about the logistics of what I’m trying to do here. Forty miles. I found a house that’s a little less than forty miles away from where you work, and I’ve moved my things there.”

I swallow. I don’t understand. I don’t… This can’t be happening.

“It’s your choice now. I’m there. If you don’t move in with me, I’ll be checking in on you where you live. I made new friends, and they’d love to give me information on your life in exchange for the latest gadgets I’m cooking up. Maybe they want a tax break that I can help bring to life. Other laws? Who knows? I have endless options of bribery.”

“Move in with you? Why?” I’m speechless. My heart is tugging forward, urging me to jump the man in front of me. Kiss and hug him. Feel his body against mine after months of no contact whatsoever.

It would be our first kiss.

“Would you like to be my boyfriend, Remo?”

While he leans forward to come closer to me, I stiffen. Everywhere. Fucking hell. I can barely breathe. The clothes I wear seem too tight and immature for this occasion. I’m positive that I stink. I shaved my face today, and there’s a cut on the left side of my jaw. Vegas helped me cover it up. I can feel the tiny band-aid’s glue on my skin.

I’ve spent years imagining a moment like this.

“Thank you for popping the question on the day of my mother’s funeral. It seems you didn’t trust your charms enough to do this while my parents were alive? Thank you. Being a charity case has never felt so good.” I scowl at him, and then I look away. My heart’s dead in my chest.

I wait for his reaction, but it doesn’t come.

The waitress returns with our food. I thank her on behalf of both of us as she hands out our plates. She refills our drinks, and then she disappears.

My head feels numb.

Minutes of silence pass.

When I glance at Mr. David to confront him once again, I’m at a loss for words.

Andre has gone pale.

Congratulations, Remo White. You’ve infected another man with your misery.

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