Mister Wrong

  “Are you okay?” I mouthed, waiting. I couldn’t leave her if she needed me, but there had been few times in life when Cora had needed me over Jacob. I hoped this might be one of those times, but I knew it wasn’t.

  She took a moment, her throat moving when she swallowed. Then she pulled the covers tighter around her and nodded. After that, her gaze left me and her whole focus shifted back to the phone. Even from here, I could still hear Jacob’s raised voice as he fired questions and accusations at her, pausing half a second before popping off the next.

  What did she see in my brother? What did she see in him that she didn’t when she looked at me?

  I guessed the answer to that was everything, because Jacob was everything I wasn’t, just like I was everything he wasn’t. We were twins, two halves of what had started as a whole, but life and experience had turned us into totally different people.

  As I pulled the door open, I heard Cora get in a few words. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see you soon.” A pause, just long enough for my heart to feel as though it were turning to stone. “I love you too.”

  What had driven me to this? Sitting here, perched on the sidewalk curb, staring through the hotel windows at some girl waiting for another man?

  I’d been camped here for the past hour, as long as she’d been stationed in that chair in the lobby. Both of us were waiting for a cab to roll up carrying Jacob. It was almost seven, which meant his flight had been delayed . . . or he’d been delayed in one of the airport bars. Which tended to happen frequently.

  He’d had a drinking problem for years, and Cora had seemed content to overlook it. That was the only answer, because I knew she was aware of it. She wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t naïve; she knew Jacob’s problem, but she accepted it. If that was what you wanted to call it.

  She had on another pretty dress, this one cobalt blue and providing more coverage than the one she’d worn on the flight yesterday.

  Cora couldn’t see me—it was dark outside and I was a couple hundred feet back—but I could see her. She’d been waiting for him as long as I had, pulling her phone out of her purse every few minutes to check it. She’d been nursing the same glass of wine for the past hour and had barely finished half of it. Even from back here, I could tell she was nervous—she kept shifting in her seat, crossing her legs, uncrossing them, crossing her ankles, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. She looked like she’d never been so uncomfortable, and even though I shouldn’t have cared how she felt after what had happened this afternoon, I did. Staying where I was, watching her through a plate of glass, when she was so distressed went against my every instinct.

  Every time I felt the muscles in my legs twitch, ready to get up and go to her, I put myself back in her hotel room and remembered the way she’d gone from whispering my name and sharing her body with me, to completely ignoring me when Jacob’s call came in. How could a person who’d just looked at me like I was special act like I wasn’t even in the room sixty seconds later?

  I’d never thought Cora could do that until today. But now I knew, because what other explanation was there? She’d had a temporary use for me—forgetting herself and what had happened—but once Jacob came back into the picture, her need for me was gone.

  We hadn’t gotten to have that talk I’d planned on—the one about what she wanted to tell Jacob when he showed up. We didn’t need to though, because I already knew what story she would weave for him. The one he wanted to hear. The one that would be easiest to admit. The one that was a lie.

  Cabs had been scooting through the circular entrance of the hotel all night, though most of them were leaving with guests headed for the airport, thanks to the tropical storm still making its way in this direction. No one working at the hotel seemed too concerned about it, and growing up in Miami, I had enough experience with hurricanes to not let the possibility of a tropical storm get to me. However, it was obvious plenty of other vacationers weren’t so copacetic with the weather forecast.

  When a cab pulled up with someone in the backseat, I knew it was him. It was that twin sense, I guessed, the one that came from sharing a womb for nine months and every milestone in life since.

  Jacob was here.

  He was my brother, and I loved him, and I wanted him to have a good and happy life—I really did—but right then, seeing him crawl out of that cab, his gaze falling on the same woman I’d been staring at for the past hour . . . I kind of wanted to beat his ass right there on the sidewalk.

  After paying the cabbie, he slung a small duffel bag over his shoulder and started up the stairs toward the lobby. He wasn’t staggering, but he was moving just slowly enough to give away that he’d been drinking. When he swayed as he reached the landing, I guessed he’d drank enough to be considered drunk by driving standards, but barely buzzed by Jacob’s.

  When he moved through the sliding glass doors, he took a moment to scan the lobby like he didn’t have a fucking clue where she was. When he damn well did. The blood in my veins heated again. Jacob had been doing that to Cora forever, acting like he wasn’t as under her spell as I knew he was. Like he didn’t have a clue where she was at a party or what she was doing or who she was talking to. He did. He always did, but he didn’t want her to know it. He didn’t want her to know just how much he felt for her.

  So, there. I guess there was one way my brother and I were alike—in our apprehension to make our true feelings known for the same woman.

  Cora noticed him right away, rising out of her chair so quickly, it scooted back a few inches. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and if she didn’t stop twisting them together, he would know something was wrong.

  Like she’d had the same thought I had, her hands fell to her sides and she calmed her body. She opened her mouth, probably calling his name, before moving toward where he was still standing at the front doors, looking around like a dipshit.

  He turned toward her after that, but I couldn’t make out the look on his face. They were some distance away and turned to the side, so I couldn’t tell if that was a smile or a frown on his face. With Cora, I could tell. She was smiling. At least the contrived version. She was nervous, and she had every right to be. The man she’d promised to marry had shown up on the same island where she and the twin she’d accidently married had spent the last twenty-four hours.

  No wonder Jacob had sounded so anxious earlier. He had every right to be, although I knew Cora would do everything she could to convince him nothing had happened. Other than, you know, her and I exchanging vows and posing as husband and wife in front of hundreds of his friends and colleagues. That was enough to send Jacob through the roof without finding out about what else had happened.

  Jacob started toward her, both of them moving toward each other until only a few steps separated them. They both rolled to a stop, Cora being the first to freeze. That, I hadn’t been expecting. I’d imagined her throwing herself into his arms, listing off a litany of apologies, then the two of them would go ride off into the gray and stormy sunset.

  Not quite.

  Jacob stood there, waiting for a moment, then he said something. I couldn’t read lips, and I couldn’t begin to imagine what my brother would think to say to the woman he’d pretty much left at the altar when he saw her for the first time.

  Why was Cora looking like the only guilty one when Jacob had a shitload more guilt than she ever could?

  He said something else, his arms going out at his sides. She was quiet, listening to him speak. He wasn’t yelling, like I’d expected. That might have been part of the reason I was hanging where I was, in case I needed to intervene if he flew off the cuff like Jacob had been known to do. I’d had to tear him off a guy at a college party once when he’d caught him checking out Cora’s ass. He’d practically turned the guy’s face into a science experiment, only to find out later that the guy was gay. If he had been looking in Cora’s ass’s general direction, he’d probably been coveting her designer jeans.

  If Jacob found out what his own
brother had done with Cora, he’d probably try to kill me. Which, at this present moment, I was good with. I wanted to kill myself for the way I’d let things get out of control.

  Jacob kept talking, his hands and arms moving in sync with whatever he was saying. The whole time, Cora stayed still and quiet, listening. When he finished, he shrugged. Had he just told her why he’d missed the wedding? Had he just admitted what he’d been doing and who he’d been doing it with? From the way Cora was still standing there, I didn’t think so, but what else could he have said that took five minutes to get out?

  After a moment, he opened his arms and waited. Cora didn’t go into them instantly, the way I’d seen her do before. She waited, staring at him like she was debating her next move. What was she thinking? What was going through her mind? Was I anywhere in there? Was I any part of the reason for her standing her ground when Jacob wanted her to come to him?

  A moment later, I had my answer. She went from frozen to flying, practically throwing herself against him as she tucked her head below his and wound her arms behind him. Jacob’s arms came around her, his lips dropping to her head. He was touching her, kissing her. His hands were touching the same places I had earlier. His lips were brushing the same places mine had.

  God, my jealousy was a living, breathing thing right then. I’d felt no shortage of it in my life—we’d been on a first-name basis for a while—but I’d never felt it like this. Like it was alive and capable of consuming me if I let it.

  Why was I still sitting there? Why was I watching this happen?

  Enough, Matt. Fucking enough.

  Shoving up from the sidewalk, I glanced around, lost for what to do next, where to go. My whole life felt like it was gone, eradicated in a twenty-four hour period. Before I could move, I watched my brother’s mouth lower to her ear and whisper something that made her nod. Then he guided her out of the lobby, toward the row of elevators. I didn’t leave until I watched the up button light up. I didn’t leave until I watched them climb onto the next elevator that opened for them. I didn’t leave until I watched the woman I loved head up to her room with my twin brother.

  The damn story of my life.

  Me waiting and watching while she left with him. Me loving her every second of every day while she gave her love to him. Me willing to give anything I had for her when she didn’t want anything from me.

  I needed to get off this island. Tonight. Even if it meant buying a boat and rowing my ass back to the mainland, I was leaving. I couldn’t stay. I’d finally accepted that Cora would never choose me.

  But first, I needed a drink. One that would hopefully dull the images and emotions coursing through me right now.

  I’d seen a little beach bar earlier when we went snorkeling, so that was where I headed. I knew there were plenty of places to get a drink inside the hotel, but I wasn’t stepping foot in there. Especially not with what I knew was about to happen, if not already happening, eight floors up.

  As I stormed across the grounds, I couldn’t let myself think about her. Every time an image of her flashed into my mind, I set a match to it. Every time I remembered the sounds I’d driven from her or the way her hands felt moving across me or the way her eyes had looked into mine while I moved above her, I doused them in imaginary kerosene and set fire to each and every one.

  I’d wasted years waiting for her. Decades. I wasn’t about to waste one more fucking minute of my life on someone who didn’t give a damn about me.

  The bar was fairly quiet when I got there. Only one couple, who looked like locals, was pressed against each other as they sipped on their beers. The bartender took one look at my face and immediately lined up a few bottles on the counter. I pointed at the first one in the lineup, not knowing what it was and not giving a shit either.

  “How do you want it?” the bartender asked as he put back the other bottles.

  “In a glass,” I said, sliding onto the first stool I came to.

  The bartender nodded like he understood, reaching for a glass and pouring whatever brand of poison I’d pointed at. I wasn’t sure. I’d never been a big drinker—my twin had more than made up for my restraint in that area.

  Of course, after watching him turn to the bottle whenever life got tough, I should have known better than to do the same when my own life got fucking destroyed, but I’d played nice my whole life and look where it had gotten me. Nowhere. The good guy hadn’t gotten the girl, so to hell with that.

  The moment I lifted the glass to my lips, I cringed from the fumes alone. I guessed this wasn’t the type of drink a person sipped and enjoyed—better to just get it down so it could get me good and drunk.

  Tipping my head back, I drained the glass in one long swallow. My throat felt like it was on fire and my tongue felt like the top layer of skin had been boiled off, but I could already feel the drink’s warmth spreading into my veins. But just in case . . .

  “I’ll have one more,” I said, setting the glass on the lacquered wood counter.

  The bartender gave me a look that read Do you need to talk? I answered with one hard shake of my head.

  No, I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to drink. I wanted to get shit-faced so I could forget about her for one damn hour of my life.

  I was just about to lift my second glass of battery acid to my lips when I noticed someone slide onto a stool a couple down from me. It was a woman, but it wasn’t the woman, so I kept my focus on my drink. That was the way it had always been—Cora, and everyone else. I’d been so consumed by her, I’d failed to notice anyone else. What if, because of my fixation, I’d let the right one slip away? What if I’d let a whole stream of right ones get away, all because I’d been consumed by the wrong one?

  That thought made the second drink go down easier. And quicker.

  “If it wasn’t for that look of remorse in your eyes, I would have thought you were Jacob after watching you take down that liter of vodka.”

  Her voice was familiar, but it wasn’t a voice I was expecting to hear right now, on this island, feet away from where I was attempting to drink myself into a stupor. Twisting on my stool, I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I was really seeing who I thought I was. The booze was already messing with my senses, making my head feel like it was stuffed with cotton.

  “Maggie?” My forehead creased. “Is that you?”

  The woman sitting two stools over gave me a look that suggested I was a moron—which I supposed was dead-on. “No. It’s me, the Ghost of Maggie Future.”

  Huffing, I slid my empty glass toward the bartender again. “Now I know you’re you. Nobody can make me feel like a bigger idiot than Maggie Stevenson.”

  “Really? After the past two days, it seems like you’ve taken over that role.”

  When the bartender wasn’t as quick to fill my glass this time, I lifted it and shook it a few times, trying to catch his attention. He was a little distracted by a pair of brunettes who had just slid up to the bar in dresses that were pretty much a second skin.

  “You can’t make an idiot out of someone when they’re already one. And that’s been my birthright from the very start. Sorry.”

  Since the bartender didn’t look like he was going to be making his way over here any time soon, I leaned over the counter, grabbed the bottle, and attempted to pour it into my glass.

  Maggie huffed when she watched me spill more of the vodka onto the bar than into my actual glass. “I think you hit your limit one and a half glasses ago. Slow down.”

  My head shook as I kept pouring. “My limit tonight is when I pass out. After that, you have my word I’ll stop drinking.”

  “Something to look forward to,” she muttered.

  “By the way, what in the hell are you doing here?” Instead of setting the bottle back behind the counter, I kept it in arm’s reach. For when I needed a refill. Or five.

  “Ah, I was wondering when you might get around to wondering that.” Maggie’s eyebrow lifted as she slid a few curls behind her ear. “Imagi
ne my surprise when I heard you didn’t make it to your brother’s wedding because you’d gotten food poisoning, but when I showed up at your condo later that night to see if you needed anything, you weren’t there. Imagine my surprise again when I later found out that your twin brother finally showed up for his wedding eighteen hours late?” Maggie’s eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs, her eyes accusing me. “After that, it didn’t take long for me to put the tiny, illicit pieces together.”

  Swirling the drink around in my hand, I tried not to think back on anything that had happened over the past day and a half. “And you flew down here to what? Kick my ass?”

  Her leg lifted behind me, doing just that. “Now that that’s done, I’m here to provide as little or as much moral support as you need. I hear that’s what good friends are supposed to do for each other.”

  “Thanks. Friend.” I managed a smile, nudging her. “So you know what happened. That at least saves me the time of explaining it.”

  “I don’t think so, chief. Nice try though.” Copying my style, Maggie leaned over the bar and snagged a beer bottle. “I might know what you did, but I don’t have a damn clue why you did it. So make like a good book and open up already.”

  I shook my head as I lifted the glass to my lips. The fumes didn’t make me wince anymore. Actually, there weren’t even any fumes I could detect. “You know why I did what I did, Mags. Don’t make me talk about it. I’m done talking about it. I’m done living my life with that at the center of it. I’m . . .” What was the word again? “Done.”

  “So what? The girl you’ve spent half your life in love with was marrying your brother and you just had to step in for him when he didn’t show up? You know, take one for the team and do the noble, totally selfless thing?”

  I wasn’t looking at her, but I could hear the raised brow in her tone. “You’re right. I was a selfish prick.” My hand waved before I took a drink. “There. Happy now?”

  “If you’re a selfish prick, then Jacob is up for Cover Saint of the Year.” She snorted then took a swig of her beer. “I know why you did what you did, and it wasn’t because you were looking out for yourself.”