Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“I honest to god thought he was you when I bumped into him in the student union.” Her head gives a tiny shake. “Crazy how alike you look.”
Yeah—even crazier, considering how that was actually me and not my twin brother.
I nod. “Growin’ up was easier because I had longer hair, and he always kept his short.” I run a hand through mine now. “But now we not only have the same haircut but we also get it cut by the same dude.”
“The resemblance is uncanny—not that I do a lot of staring.” She laughs uncomfortably. “I’d have to do a side by side. Twins fascinate me.”
The server comes by and sets down my beer and her cocktail, and without even discussing it, we both raise our glasses and toast.
“Did you ever switch places to trick people?”
Um. I’m doing it right now. “Yes, I was never good at math or science, so sometimes Dre—I mean, sometimes he would take them for me.” Teachers never noticed the slight differences between us, even those months in eight grade when I had a mullet.
Mullets, by the way, are making a comeback, so don’t judge me for rocking one when I was a kid.
I knew what was up.
“And all of you play football?”
I nod.
“How is that possible?”
I shrug. “My dad—I guess for a long time, we all wanted to be like him.” Which is the truth, mostly. We couldn’t have known as kids what a piece of shit husband he actually was to our ma; the cheating and running around behind her back. None of us could have known she was crying because Dad was unfaithful and she’d read about it in the tabloids—we just thought that’s what girls did.
Cried a lot.
“Our dad died when we were in middle school, so Duke stepped in. And he was already on his way to college, and Dallas was in high school, and football kept us busy so that’s what we did.”
Daisy’s bottom lip juts out. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“It’s fine. That seems like forever ago.”
It was not an easy time; he didn’t just die, he left collateral damage in his wake that none of us had been prepared for. Women came out of the woodwork, claiming he was the father of their children but having no proof. Wanting a part of the estate he’d left to our mother.
The media had a field day with it, running the stories for weeks after he passed. My mother was unable to grieve privately.
It was fucking terrible.
And the one reason I haven’t been able to commit to any one woman; I’m terrified I’m going to end up like our dad, treating a woman the same way, unable to be faithful.
Irrational?
Perhaps.
But also valid.
Sure, Duke has done it, and Dallas has followed suit, both my older brothers in committed, monogamous—blissfully so if what they tell me is true—relationships. Two shining examples to erase the example our father created but…
Still.
The what-ifs outweigh the reality. Who wants to think about having a wife and kids, or a family? I don’t even know what I’m having as a midnight snack tonight when I’m home and hungry, let alone what I want my future to look like.
Shit, let me get a job out of college first.
The pressure presses on, weighing me down.
Being a campus legend also comes with the Colter Curse of our father…
“Hello? Earth to Drew.”
Daisy nudges my calf beneath the table.
“Shit, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Her pretty face is tilted, the sunlight shining through the window warming her skin. “Where did you go?”
I shrug. “All of a sudden, my mind started wanderin’, thinkin’ ’bout my dad, I guess.” Nothing good, though, not happy thoughts.
Her nod is slow. “I think sometimes what our parents did or did not do affects us more than we think.”
I grunt. “Is that so?”
“Yes. The fact that my parents were college sweethearts and have this picture-perfect relationship has seriously fucked with my social life.”
“How?” ’Cause I fathom how a “picture-perfect relationship” could be anything short of great.
“Well. It’s created unrealistic expectations. I used to spend all my time judging guys against my father, which is unfair. And so messed up.” She laughs. “I know it’s never going to be like that for me because that is my parents’ story, not mine.”
“How do you know they don’t fight?”
She shrugs. “I’ve never heard them.”
“Just because you’ve never heard them doesn’t mean they ain’t tusslin’ behind closed doors or when you’re not around.”
“That’s true.”
“People fight. It’s not perfect one-hundred percent of the time.”
It can’t be even when it’s good.
Hell, all Duke and his girlfriend Posey did when they met was argue and spar, and it wasn’t the flirting kind. It was sexual tension; it was sheer irritation and infuriation. They couldn’t stand each other, and come to think of it, neither could Dallas and Ryann.
See what I’m talking about? The Colter Curse is real.