“Really like what you’ve done to the place, Brother,” he says in a way that makes me go all prickly. Kellan laughs at anything and everything. The thing is, I’m never sure if he’s laughing at me.
Self-consciously, I study the room from his eyes. It’s not much. Minimalistic, for sure. I have the bare minimum in terms of furniture. A second-hand couch, a coffee table, and two chairs for when guests come over. They’ve never been used, since guests never come over. The brick walls are artistic enough, with the rough white plaster giving the room an industrial chic appearance. In terms of art, there are some originals I’ve picked up over the years. It’s the largest room in the place, with other doors leading to the bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen.
Kellan’s attention falls to my computer. “Still playing with video games, I see.”
I snap the laptop shut in annoyance, cheeks flaming. He tosses a toothy grin at me and saunters to the couch.
That’s when my attention falls to the bag in his hand. Multiple bags, actually. “What’s that?”
“My clothes,” he says, as if it should be obvious. He plops the black garbage bags on the cushions and looks around. “Ever thought of sprucing up the place?”
“My decorations are fine,” I snap. “We can’t all be hoarders like yourself.”
He laughs like I’m making a joke, except I’m not. Kellan has every new toy on the market. Honestly, I don’t know how he’s not broke all the time. Or maybe he is. Who knows?
“Anyway,” he goes on, unfazed, “if you’re pretending to be me, you’ll need to look the part.”
“Great. I’ve always wanted to be an asshole.”
His glare tells me he’s not amused.
When he dumps his clothes out, it’s like a rainbow barfed all over the cushions.
That’s when it hits me. He’s not kidding. “No,” I say flatly. “Not happening.”
“Noah—”
I pick up one of his shirts. It’s bright green with sombreros stamped all over it. It’s slightly less embarrassing than his collection of Hawaiian shirts. Kellan like color, likes flair, likes attention. The thought of so many eyes on me is starting to give me hives. “I’m not wearing your clothes. All I have to do is show up to practice, right? I’ll wear your exercise clothes.”
“What if someone sees you during the day?”
“I seriously doubt any of your teammates are in computer science.”
Kellan’s face falls. “Pretty sure they’re not, but if they see you in all black they’ll wonder what’s gotten into me.”
“Worried around your reputation, Kel? Don’t be.” I toss the shirt back onto the pile. “It’s only for two weeks.”
He growls out, “Fine. Practice is every weekday from five to seven in the evening. I’ll stop by tomorrow and drop off my jersey. Best thing to do in your case is to keep your head down. Try to act like you know what you’re doing.”
Reaching over, I turn on one of the lamps. The surrounding darkness retreats further. “You know this is never going to work.” People will know something is up. And Sebastian...
“Does Sebastian know about this?” I ask sharply. Our oldest brother also plays on the team, and he’ll know it’s me on the field, not Kellan.
My twin clears his throat. The bags rustle as he sorts through his shirts. “Well, no. But I’ll talk him around. Don’t worry about that. Keep your mouth closed and they won’t know the difference. If they ask why you’re sucking so hard, say you’re coming down with the flu. If you pull this off, I’ll let you drive the Lamborghini.”
The thing is, I don’t care about the car. I just care about getting under Kellan’s skin. “Why are you even doing this?”
He bites his lip, saying nothing. “I can’t say, Noah. Not yet. Just tell me it’s all going to work out smoothly.”
Knowing Kellan, he’ll keep harassing me until I fold. Giving in means not having to deal with him.
With a sound of disgust, I snatch a pink shirt from his grasp. “Brother,” I say, a bite to my tone, “you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Chapter 2
Max
I arrive at Notre Dame’s indoor fields at four thirty that afternoon—thirty minutes before practice starts. As it’s my third year as captain, I’m used to it. Sad to think it’s my last semester filling this role. Graduation awaits in May, and the world. Three months, and I’m gone. But to where, I don’t know. I’m not sure if my heart lies in soccer, to be honest. Not enough to make a career out of it, at least.
