Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
When Isiah makes me laugh at his silliness, Stellan looks like he’s going to break something on Isiah’s body. And the next day he punishes Isiah by giving him extra laps to run. When this other guy on the team started chatting up with me – about his girlfriend no less – the next day I find out that Stellan rode him extra hard at practice and the guy was almost limping back from practice.
On top of all this, Shepard has upped his flirting game.
Even though I told him very specifically, along with giving him a deadline, that if I’m to keep our fake engagement a secret, he can absolutely under no circumstances flirt with me or use me to provoke Stellan.
But as I’m coming to find out, he didn’t listen.
So he goes ahead and throws his arm around my neck whenever he wants. He goes ahead and kisses me whenever he wants, but thankfully only on my cheek or in my hair. He insists that I have dinner with him every night. He insists on holding hands and being all lovey dovey and couple-y when before he’d just leave me alone.
And he simply insists on dancing with me at every victory party.
Like the one we’re at right now.
“Shepard, you need to chill out,” I tell him while twirling in his arms.
Because it’s not as if I can say no to him – my stupid fiancé – in front of everyone.
He smirks. “Why, is he going to finally lose it?”
I keep my mouth shut.
Because I do have a feeling that Stellan is reaching his breaking point.
It’s going to happen any day now.
He already looks like he’s this close to breaking the neck of his beer bottle. While also turning his own teeth to dust from how hard he’s gritting his teeth.
I throw him a small smile.
That only makes all the gritting and that pulsing muscle on his cheek worse.
So I look away and focus on Shepard who’s still smirking. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“He’s your twin brother.”
“Unfortunately.”
How is it that their expression, their tone, their entire freaking demeanor become exactly the same – identical; a word I never use for them – when I talk to one about the other? How is it that they can’t see there’s a severe lack and need for a discourse between them?
I shake my head as he twists me in his arms so my back is pressed to his chest. Then, “I’m not even going to get into how dysfunctional your relationship is with each other. But have a little compassion, will you? You’re torturing him. We’re torturing him.” Then, “Let me tell him, please.”
“No.”
Before I can protest, he spins me back around so we’re face to face, our chests colliding. I glare at him for pinning me close and he keeps smirking.
Then, “He’ll live. But most importantly, do you really want to be with a guy who goes apeshit just because you’re looking at another guy? He’s fucking crazy with his jealousy. Not to mention,”—he looks me up and down—"I wouldn’t do that. I’d never be this crazy or this jealous. I’ll let you be free.”
I realize – not for the first time – that yes, Shepard isn’t like that. He doesn’t get jealous. He doesn’t burn. He doesn’t go crazy. And I should’ve realized that right away and called Stellan out on his deception when his jealousy was spilling out in the text messages.
“But I am free,” I tell Shepard as we sway in each other’s arms. “He makes me feel free. He makes me feel like I can be myself. I can dance in the middle of a crowded bar where guys are all wanting a piece of me because I know he won’t let them take it. I can jump off a high building because I know he’ll either jump with me with a parachute or stand on the ground with a safety net. I know he’ll always save me. I know he’ll always be there. And I…” I lick my lips. “I want that, Shepard. I want him. I want his safety. I want his warmth, his heated glares, his anger, his jealousy. I even want the way he hurts me because I hurt him too. I want everything that makes him him. Because sometimes I think I’m the way I am because he’s the way he is. We’re different but we’re the same.”
Only I want him to love me.
But he doesn’t.
And sometimes I think – again not for the first time – that if I remove this love condition of mine, maybe we can stay together, Stellan and I.
“Well,” Shepard murmurs, breaking into my thoughts, “that was very poetic.”
I feel a sting in my heart. “I didn’t…”
“Hey,” he throws me a lopsided smile, “I can take it. I’m a big boy.”