“She won’t be interested in you, Dil. Don’t bother wasting your time.” Aoife’s sharp tone claims my attention and yanks me back to the moment. I lift my head. Her hands are planted on her hips, and the vulnerable teary look from a minute ago has been replaced by a superior, challenging expression.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“The Yank.” She spits out the words like they’re poison. “She’s so far up her own arse she can’t see anything else. I know her type. She only dates rich pricks who can buy her expensive things,” she scoffs. “You can’t afford her, Dil. Besides, she wouldn’t slum it with you, no matter how gorgeous you are, so you should get that idea out of your head, she’s?—”
“Jealousy is not a good look on you, Aoife,” I say in a cold tone, cutting across her. “Neither is sounding like a pissed-off girlfriend. You’re a convenient hole to fuck when no other pussy takes my fancy. That’s it.” Who the fuck does she think she is spouting that shit at me? I have been nothing but completely honest with her from the very start, and this bullshit is the very reason I’m anti-girlfriend. “If this arrangement no longer works for you, I’ll talk to the lads, and we can part ways.”
“Don’t do that,” she blurts, widening her eyes. Panic is clear in her tone. “I’m happy with how things are. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Girls like her?—”
“Get the fuck out of my room, Aoife.” I glare at her. “Now,” I add when she still hasn’t moved.
“I’m sorry, Dil.” Tears well in her eyes, and I’m so done with her theatrics. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“Get out!” I roar. “Get the fuck out and stay out.”
She scurries out of the room, slamming the door behind her, and I can finally breathe. I tap out a message to Jay telling him to keep her away from me, and then I go down the Viv-Reeve rabbit hole.
A couple of hours later, I’m thoroughly confused. I have missed a lot of drama in my twin’s life recently, most notably how he very publicly cheated on his long-term girlfriend with Saffron Roberts. Ha! I could’ve called that years ago. Told you she was karma. The news broke on Christmas Day when E-News ran a video showing Reeve in a very passionate lip-lock with his slutty costar at a Boston club. They had their hands all over oneanother, and he was devouring her mouth like a starving man. It isn’t a good look for a guy who’s supposedly in love with his childhood sweetheart.
Reddit was a great source of intel, and it seems a few months previously a video taken at a college frat party was shared online, showing Vivien Mills dancing provocatively with men who were not my twin. Gotta say, that shocked me. Didn’t think she had it in her.
While the video has officially been removed from everywhere, I messaged one of the Reddit users who had a copy, and she sent it to me. Vivien’s drunken, teary-eyed confession to whomever took the video was cringeworthy in the extreme. She isn’t shown in the best light, but I’m guessing it’s been doctored to make it so. I actually felt a little sorry for her while watching it, and I wonder if that video is the reason she was attacked in December.
Pictures of my twin wheeling her out of hospital firmly reminded me she’s the enemy. What I don’t get is why she’s in Ireland. Is she that pathetic she’d forgive Reeve so easily for humiliating her in front of the entire world? Did she cheat first that night at the frat party and Reeve was given a free pass? Or has she done something worse and this is her way of making it up to him? Or maybe it’s none of the above and she is here because she wanted to get away from him and the circus that seems to follow him everywhere he goes?
I don’t know, and I can’t tell if she’s here to spy on me or if it’s a complete coincidence. But how likely is that? It doesn’t seem plausible, which brings me back to my spying theory. Well, two can play that game, and it’s time she had a taste of her own medicine.
In the few weeks that follow, I put my sleuthing hat on and shadow Vivien any chance I get. It’s not difficult because she leads a pretty boring life, only venturing out to attend classes at Trinners, go shopping, or go for a walk. The rest of her time is spent at her swanky apartment overlooking The Liffey. Sometimes, I see her through the window of the downstairs gym, pounding away on the treadmill, looking a million miles away with the saddest expression on her face.
I’m a few paces behind her as she walks down Grafton Street, using the throng of Saturday morning shoppers to hide me. She emerged from M&S a short while ago with a bag of food in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other, heading in the direction of her apartment. I know Ro and Ash are going to her gaff for lunch today, so she’s obviously getting supplies in.
Her feet falter as she passes a newsstand. She moves in closer, reading something, and I hang back, leaning against a wall beside a shop front, straining my head to see what’s captured her attention. I risk moving a little closer, pulling my hoodie up over my head to hide my distinctive hair.
I’m close enough to hear the painful sob she emits before she takes off, rejoining the flow of foot traffic. I quickly read the magazine headline as I walk past: REEVE AND SAFFRON ARE DATING!
I’m lost in thought as I rush to catch up with her. If she’s upset because of that headline, does it mean they have broken up and she came here to escape him and all the drama? Or has she figured out I’ve been following her and it’s a deliberate ruse to lead me off the scent? Except, if she was sent here to spy on me, wouldn’t she be the one followingmearound? Wouldn’t sheactually be working out ways to spend time with me instead of avoiding me? Ash says she has refused to return to Whelans and the only time she socializes with them is Thursday nights when I’m not around.
I’m still confused and getting more irritated by the minute. I can’t believe her showing up in Dublin and befriending my sister wasn’t part of some elaborate plan. It’s way too much of a coincidence to be true.
Up ahead, Viv darts into a side street at the bottom of Grafton Street, and I shove people out of my way so I don’t lose her. When I round the corner, I almost have a heart attack on the spot as I narrowly avoid colliding with her. She’s stopped in front of a shop on the quieter street, with her bags and the bunch of flowers at her feet, and her face is buried in her hands while she quietly cries. Every sob feels like a dagger sliding between my ribs. Briefly, I consider stopping, but I force my feet to keep moving because she can’t discover I’ve been trailing her around town all morning. It takes effort to walk away when every instinct urges me to bundle her in my arms and comfort her.
It’s a troubling thought, one that keeps my feet moving forwards. Screw following her the rest of the way home. She’s not likely to detour, and I’ve got band practice in ninety minutes. I risk a quick glance over my shoulder when I hit the end of the street, needing to check she’s okay before I leave. A tightness spreads over my chest as I watch her frantically swiping the tears rolling down her face while she tries to reassure the older couple standing in front of her that she’s all right.
My mind is heavy on the walk back to Temple Bar. I don’t know what to think about Vivien Mills. I don’t think she was acting back there. I don’t think she has worked out I’ve been following her. So, does it mean she’s no longer with him and her showing up hereispure coincidence? I still struggle to accept that. The only thing I know with certainty is she’s occupying fartoo much space in my head, and maybe I need to just take a step back and let her make the next move.
“Hey, Dil,” Aoife says when I enter our apartment, sashaying towards me wearing Jamie’s shirt. It falls mid-thigh, covering the fact she’s most likely bare underneath. It’s too big on her, and it falls off one shoulder, revealing the swell of a tit. It does nothing for me. None of the girls hanging around us the past few weeks have done anything for me. Took a girl home the past two Friday nights and sent them packing shortly after. Couldn’t get it up for either of them. It’s embarrassing, and I didn’t feel like repeating the experience last night, so I drove the van home after our set and went to bed sober for a change.
The only time I get hard these days is imagining Vivien Grace Mills on her knees sucking my cock. Or bending her over my bed and fucking her until she’s screaming my name and creaming all over my dick. Or dragging her into the bathroom at Whelans and banging her senseless. It seems there’s no limit to my fantasies when it comes to my twin’s girl, and at this point, I’ve fucked her countless times, in multiple positions, and they all end with her squeezing the cum from my body until every last drop is gone.
I’ve got issues. I know.
“Dillon.” Aoife’s aggravation is transparent in her tone. Girl does not like being ignored.
Shaking all thoughts of Vivien from my mind, I offer her a tight smile. “Hey.” Pushing past her, I open the fridge and remove the things I need to make a sandwich.
Sliding her arm along my back, she peers around the fridge door and eyeballs the four-pack of Heineken lying on the middle shelf. “The beer is a gift from me.”
“Why are you buying me beer?” I ask, shucking out of her hold as I grab the lettuce and close the door with my butt. Aoife usually shows up empty-handed and spends the weekend drinking our beer and eating our food, so this is not the norm.
