“Riggs what?”
I shrugged.
“You let him suck a…” Marshall snapped his mouth closed, pulling his lips between his teeth and forcing a stuttered nod.
“I’m sure when he finds out, you’ll be the first to know,” Finn said, another barely restrained laugh pressing against the words.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose and leveled a look at Finn, one I’d learned years before from Marshall. “Please don’t antagonize him.”
“God.” Finn shuddered. “The resemblance is uncanny.”
“Yeah,” Hunter said, a little awkward. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, swiping away at the screen before setting it down in the center of the table. Finn, Marshall, and I all leaned in to see what was on the device. “About that.”
“Why are you scrolling a hook-up app?” I asked, a more important and heavier question pressing at the back of my mind. I scratched my chin and looked at Marshall from the corner of my eye then back at the phone.
“Why is someone using old pictures of Marshall on a hook-up app?” Finn asked next, swiping from one picture to another to another before the three of us realized it wasn’t old pictures of Marshall at all, but new pictures of someone who looked more like him than the rest of us.
“Where did you find this?” Marshall picked up the phone and scrolled through the rest of the pictures himself, brow furrowed as he read.
Hunter sighed and leaned back, arms folded in front of his chest. “Andrew sent it to me.”
“You don’t have a son, do you?” Finn asked.
Marshall dropped the phone back on the table and mirrored Hunter’s tense pose. “I don’t have a son. And even if I did, he wouldn’t be Smith’s age.”
I was next to pick up the phone, examining the photos closer. The man on the app was a year older than me, almost twenty-seven. He had dark hair like Marshall, styled in a similar, swooping cut. They had the same eyes, same face, though this man’s was slightly rounder in the cheeks.
He must have gotten the softness from his mother.
“What’s his name?” Finn asked.
“Donovan,” I said, handing him the phone. “Donovan Coleman.”
Finn frowned down at the phone for less time than I had before handing it back to Hunter.
“Andrew found him on accident.” He chuckled. “They matched.”
“Is he? I mean…he has to be.”
“Andrew wasn’t sure how to bring it up once he realized. It’s suspicion at this point?—”
“It’s obvious.” Marshall finished the rest of his wine in one swallow. “Whether he knows or not.”
“Lucky number six then?” Finn teased.
“Will it ever end?” Hunter asked, returning the phone to his pocket.
“You’re the one who handles all of this,” I said. “You tell me.”
Hunter opened his mouth to speak, but the words were lost. Donovan’s face burned hot against my eyes. A man my age with my brother’s face seemed unfair. When my whole life all I’d wanted was to be like Marshall, and this stranger who…
No.
I couldn’t think like that.
I had wanted to be like Marshall. I admired him beyond words, modeled myself after him in so many ways, but this tattoo had been a rebellion. I didn’t want to live in the shadow of the man who, I’d been certain for years, hung the moon. It should cost me nothing to know there was another Covington out in the wild. Whether he looked like Marshall should be of no importance. There could just as easily be a man out there who looked like me, like Hunter, like Finn.
“What next?” Marshall asked, raising his empty glass when the waiter went by.
