Page 266 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“Answer me.” His eyes are serious and remind me of Dad. He takes some of his qualities even better than me, especially with his bold assertiveness.

“What’s it to you?” I snarl.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs like he’s innocent, but he’s not. “Maybe I want in, too.”

The way I have my hand around his throat in a few blinks only makes him chuckle.

He has me right where he wants me.

“Chill, brother,” he encourages. “She’s not my type. Not sure I could share my girl with more than one other guy. Threesomes are fun, but anything more is just a pleasurable game of Twister.”

“So you’re fucking gay now?” Pushing him away from me, I wipe my hands against my pants as if it would get all the germs off me.

“Oh? Is my brother scared one touch from me will make him gay? Man. What has American culture done to you? Half of you bastards like faking your support to make your sales on rainbow merchandise for one month of glorification go through the roof. While the other half loves to overexaggerate how gays ruin society and your ancient ways. We’re in 2025. Pick a side instead of being hypocritical.”

“I’m not fucking gay.”

“The fact that we’re twins, I can’t buy that.”

“I don’t suck fucking dick like you!”

“I don’t suck dick either, brother. Pussy is far sweeter matched with a serenade of moans and screams,” he summarizes but dares to smile. “But if dick comes into the picture and makes my girl further bend for me, I’m all for it.”

This cocky bastard.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Better to be disgusting than a hindrance, if you ask me.”

I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from saying something that will ignite the fire.

How much does he know?

“Why don’t I get to the point of why I’m here? I really hate wasting my time on you. Dad spends enough cleaning up after your constant messes. I don’t want to get further involved. I don’t get paid enough.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap. “You don’t know shit!”

“Oh, really?” He stands from his chair and takes a few steps toward me.

Facing each other, he looks to his left, then his right, and finally glances over his shoulder to confirm this space is all but empty.

“So tell me why your best friend of eleven years is sitting in a fucking jail cell after you ratted him out for bullying that Augustus jock, then escalated shit further by igniting that fire,” he slams me with a portion of what he knows, making my heart skip a few beats in fear. “Better yet, why have you been forcing Oscar to be a douche in your stead? Or explain to me how you got Dad to change your phone service after you sent that text, so it would show that Oscar sent it and not you. Must be nice to have a father on speed dial, ready to save your ass from all the problems you ignite by your obvious jealousy.”

“I didn’t do shit!” My voice is cold and low as my eyes narrow at him.

He knows better.

He’s my fucking copy but smarter.

“You’re right. You didn’t go to that broken suite in the dorm building and set something on fire in hopes they could blame the faulty suite complex for the demise of such a new build. Of course, you didn’t,” he sums up and laughs when my face gets paler by the second. “But I know who your minions are.”

“I have no minions.”

“But you do,” he whispers and leans in further to whisper in my ear. “She’s on your team. Cute but high-maintenance. Tries to get your attention so she can enjoy riding that cock of yours, yes? Didn’t think ‘I like to speak to the manager girls’ were your type?”

I push him away, making him laugh.

“Or are you more intrigued by that other team nurse? The one that hates your guts. Could have been a fun enemies-to-lovers romance brewing between you two. It’s amusing to analyze from the sidelines.”

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