Page 2 of Wrong Twin


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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered.

Setting my jaw, I dialed Troy. When he didn’t answer, I shot out my response.

August:No way in hell. And since you’re not coming. I’ll be going now.

Troy:Dude, I can’t be a no show tonight.

August:Then don’t be.

I leaned against the back wall, waiting. This was the weaker version of me. The one that wouldn’t just walk out the fucking door and go home now that my only reason for being here wasn’t planning on showing. A moment later, another message came through and I sighed.

Troy:I know you watched. You know why I can’t face anyone today. Please.

All I needed right then was for him to tell me that it should have beenme. It should have been my season opener they were all here celebrating, and that this could be my chance to live it all up.

August:I’m leaving.

I spoke the words as I hit send and pushed the back door open. Finn would understand. Hell, I’d cover anything he lost tonight because of this. But there was absolutely no way I’d—A car screeched to a sudden halt in the middle of the side street behind the bar and I slowed my strides. It was a bizarre spot to pull over—so I watched as curiosity got the best of me.

Untamed, wavy blond hair was the first thing I saw when she stepped out of the car. Bare legs stepped around the door before shutting it. The woman wore a black sleeveless dress that looked uncomfortably short and high heels to offset for her height. She flipped around and reached a hand in the window of the passenger side, nearly losing balance.

“Oh, sorry, here you go.” She stepped back and the man drove off without a beat. With her back still to me, she fussed with the strap of the pocketbook before finally settling on carrying the damn thing under her arm.

She looked the exact definition of a hot mess. I scoffed and started to turn but then she moved onto the sidewalk, and I saw her face.

Brown eyes outlined by the longest set of dark lashes. High cheekbones that flattered her round face. Unruly blond hair. And pouty pink lips I last remembered trembling.

All things that pointed to the one thing I refused to believe.

Because there was no way in hellHarper Maxwellwould be showing up tonight. But there was no mistaking that wild hair and petite frame as she attempted to strut up the street with confidence that lasted all but four seconds.

I watched as she paused, turned back, released a breath and then once again, turned on her heel toward the bar, practically forcing herself forward.

It took me a good minute to realize my phone was vibrating. I brought it to my ear, as I slowly followed to see if she was indeed here for my brother’s celebration. “Troy,” I answered.

“I’ll pay you,” he stated flatly.

“Technically, I made more money than you did last year,” I muttered as I watched the girl I never thought I’d see again walk into Finnegans Pub. “But I’ll do it.”

“What? Seriously? Bro, you’re a life saver. I owe you one.”

I hung up.

You’ve owed me a shit ton more than one.

I loosened my tie and shoved it in one of my pockets, then undid some buttons and untucked my shirt before slipping through the back door, reentering the bar. My eyes immediately searched for her. But with the growing crowd, it was nearly impossible to find someone who barely reached five feet and had a knack for disappearing.

“Finn, pour me another,” I called from the corner of the bar before anyone spotted me.

Finn’s face fell when he turned to me. “Where’s your brother?” his eyes trailed down my neck to my waist.

I glared back. “You’re lookin’ at him.”

“Ya fecking kidding me,” Finn heckled, walking over to me with the bottle.

“Just tonight,” I clipped before gulping down an overpoured shot of whisky. Finn knew I hated attention more than I hated big crowds.

And… people in general.