“About fucking time.”
We break apart and stare at Hendrix standing in the doorway. He’s wearing grey shorts and a T-shirt with a flouncy dressing gown over the top.
He points at Quinn. “I told you Stefan fancied you, but you didn’t believe me.” He rolls his eyes dramatically. “Face it. I’m always right.”
“I doubt that,” I say.
Hendrix snorts. “Believe what you want, but I know people, and you two”—he gestures between us—“were meant to be.” He goes to the fridge and pulls out a carton of milk. “Don’t let me stop you. If you need a reminder, you were snogging.”
Quinn’s cheeks go red. His chin drops. I wrap my arm around his waist, supporting him. He rests his head on my shoulder, and I stroke his back. By the time Quinn jerks upright, Hendrix has finished making his breakfast and is sitting in the seat Quinn vacated, munching cereal while he stares at us as though we’re fascinating.
He uses his spoon to point at the chessboard. “Who won?”
“Quinn.”
Hendrix laughs. “In more ways than one, by the looks of it.” He waves at us. “Carry on.”
I glare at him. “Because you treating us like a spectator sport isn’t off-putting.”
“Fine, fine, go to your room. In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a communal room.”
Quinn strokes my jaw. “He’s not wrong.”
“No, but he is being a brat.”
“I’ve got work to do anyway.” Quinn pecks my lips. “Talk later?”
I nod, unsure if he means spilling my guts, catching up for a casual chat, or kissing. I’d be happy with the latter two options. He gathers up his chess set, gives me a soft smile, and then leaves. Hendrix keeps eating his breakfast, his stare still pinned on me as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. I stand.
“Do you have work too?”
“No.” I check the time—nine o’clock. The PI firm should be open. I inhale. “But I do have a phone call to make.”
* * *
There’s a knock on my door around six while I’m in the middle of solving a daily maths puzzle on my laptop.
“Come in.”
“Hi.” Beau shuts the door behind him and sits on my bed. “Did you contact a PI today?”
I turn away from my laptop to face him. “Yes. I gave him all the information we have. He said it could take anything from a few days to a few weeks to track her down.”
Beau rubs the back of his neck. “Days?”
“I was shocked too.”
He blows out a slow breath. “Will it really be that easy? She’s been gone for years. We looked…”
“We went to a graveyard every weekend and asked our aunt.”
Beau’s eyebrows pinch together.
I lean across and put my hand on his knee. “We did everything we could. We were thirteen.”
Beau nods and looks into my eyes. “I know. It’s just after all this time, it’s strange to think the mystery of our AWOL mother could be solved in days.” He looks down at my chess set. “I hope you get the answers you want.”
“I—” I bite my tongue. I don’t want to argue with my twin.
