A Sticky Situation (Awkward Love 7)

He nods. “And Max? How does he fit in?”

“He’s a friend of mine.”

“That’s why he was all weird when you were babbling on about your record deals,” I mutter, more to myself than him.

“Exactly.”

“Prove it,” I say suddenly.

He looks confused. “Prove what? That we’re twins?”

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest, because I’m being way too accepting of all of this. How do I know this isn’t just another story he’s using to get what he wants?

“Okay,” he mutters.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps away on it while I watch him. My heart thumps. I want to believe him, I really do, but if he lied to me once, what’s to stop him from lying to me again? How can I believe anything he’s told me?

He hands me his phone. I swallow, ignoring the feeling rushing through me when our hands touch.

“There,” he mutters. “Brix and I when we were ten. Scroll left.”

I do as he asks. Two smiling little boys fill the screen. “Brix and I when we were three. Believe me now?”

I look up at him and then down at the photo, flicking back to the first photo. Even at ten, I can see it’s him. Or Brix. I frown, realizing I don’t even know his name. I hand him back his phone without saying a word.

“Well?” he prompts.

“What’s your name?” I ask quietly.

The relief in his face is obvious as a faint smile appears on his lips.

“Nate.”

I nod. Even though I’m still so angry at him, I accept that he’s telling me the truth.

This time.

“Where is Brix? When did you switch?” I ask Nate. It feels weird calling him Nate when I’ve known him as Brix this whole time. “And why did you switch? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

Nate looks at me, his eyes full of concern.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”Chapter 18Nate“So, do you have a key to this apartment too?”

I glance at Hannah as we get out of the car an hour later. She’s still got the same, cold look in her eyes, but hey, at least she’s talking. She barely said a word to me the whole drive from the city, to Brix’s other apartment, in Malibu.

“No, but I’ve got something just as good. His face.”

She nods. “Right. I forgot about that. I guess being a twin comes in handy a lot.”

I nod. “There’s good and bad points, for pretty much the same reasons,” I say, thinking about it. “Most of the time it really fucking sucks, especially when your brother is a superstar.”

“What do you mean?” she queries.

“It’s like I get all the pitfalls of fame with none of the benefits,” I try and explain.

“Like getting mobbed by adoring fans?” she teases.

Wow. She made a joke.

“Yes, but they’re not my adoring fans, so it doesn’t count,” I point out, keen to keep the conversation flowing before she remembers she hates me.

“True,” she concedes. “What do they say when you explain you’re not Brix?” I shrug, not answering. Her eyes narrow. “You don’t tell them, do you?”

I shrug. “I used to, but people either didn’t believe me, got angry, or got really upset that it just became easier to pretend to be him. You’ve got no idea how tiring it is,” I add.

“Oh you poor thing, being adored by millions of women,” Hannah ridicules.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy?” I tease.

“Jealousy?” She glares at me and tilts her chin up. “Hardly. So, did you guys switch much as kids?” she asks. “You know, when you guys weren’t trying to kill each other?”

“We tried it on Mom a few times, but she always knew right away. Tried it on Dad once, and he beat the shit out of us.”

“Ouch,” she winces.

“Literally. The worst part was I ended up with two beatings because Brix pretended to be me after I’d gotten my serve.” I look around and then back at Hannah. “You wait over by the elevator. I’ll get the key.”

I stride over to the small desk in the corner of the foyer, while making sure I exude the same arrogant confidence that Brix would. The guard looks up and smiles as I approach him.

“Mr. Wilson. Lovely to see you looking so fresh. What can I do for you today?”

“I seem to have misplaced my key,” I say, making a face.

“Again?” he asks. “Another big night, Mr. Wilson?” He winks at me.

I laugh, nodding my head. “You know me too well.”

How many keys has my brother lost?

“Of course, I’d me more than happy to help you, Mr. Wilson,” he assures me. “Just give me one moment.”

“Thank you,” I nod.

He disappears through to his office, and then returns a few minutes later with another key.

“Here you go,” he says, handing it to me. “I’ll have another few copies made from the master key, ready for next time, shall I?”