We sit on the edge of the couch and glance at one another, both of us recognizing the absurdity of the situation.
“Yeah?” I ask, taking a long sip of wine.
“We had a lot of good times,” he admits. “I really do miss our friendship.”
“I do too,” I say. “But that’s about it.”
We continue drinking.
“Tell me something.” His voice changes, losing the playful edge. “Are you fucking my brother?”
My heart stops. “What?”
There’s no anger in his eyes.
“I know you both too well,” he says. “The way you looked at him during his speech. The way he looked at you across the room. I’ve seen that expression before, Kendall. On both of you.”
“What expression?” I ask.
“You’re in love.”
I should deny it. I should lie, deflect, protect whatever fragile thing Patterson and I have built in the shadows. But I’m so tired of lying, and Jameson deserves more than that.
“Well,” I say, “yes, I am fucking your brother.”
He lets out a breath, as if he had been holding it for years. “How long?”
“I don’t owe you these answers.”
He leans back on the couch, his head resting against the cushion. “You kinda do. You’re literally fucking my identical twin brother.”
“Fine. It’s been going on for a little over a month.”
“And before that? Be honest.”
I give him a dirty look. “No. We kissed once, and I told you about it after you proposed. There was never anything else, I promise. I have no reason to lie about any of this.”
He stares at me for a long time, and I watch every emotion flicker across his face, but surprise isn’t one of them.
“The tension between you two, the way you’ve always looked at him, even when you were with me …” He shakes his head slowly. “I guess you were always each other’s endgame.”
“Jamie—”
“I’m not finished,” he says abruptly. He sets down his wineglass and turns to face me fully. “All those years ago, I asked you out because I knew Patterson wanted you.”
The words don’t make sense at first, like he’s speaking a language I should understand, but can’t quite translate.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw the way he looked at you.” Jameson holds my gaze. “It was like he’d been waiting his whole life for you. Like you were the only person in the room. I wanted that.”
I stare at him, trying to process what he’s saying. “Jamie.”
“He’s always gotten everything he’s ever wanted.” He runs a hand through his hair again—that nervous action they both share. “The better stats, the bigger contracts, the spotlight. I was good, but Patterson was great—a star player. And for once, I saw something he wanted that he was too scared to go after. I took the opportunity.”
“So, I was what, a prize? A competition?”
He shakes his head quickly. “I mean, maybe at first, but then I actually fell for you, Kendall. After we were together, I understood what Patterson saw in you.”
