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 would do anything for a french fry right now. Seriously, just about anything, and so would my stomach, which is growling furiously.
Walking at a pace of someone hell-bent on eating, I make a beeline for the student union only to find it packed, my stomach reminding me yet again that it wants and needs fuel.
Students everywhere.
“This is why I never come in here during the day,” I grumble to myself, stepping in line for the grill, grabbing a plastic tray in the process, and immediately sliding it along the metal rails though no tray is technically necessary.
Just kidding—I came for the fries but grab a cup of fruit and a bag of potato chips—impatiently glancing around the guy in front of me to see how far back I am from the steaming, hot burgers and crinkle fries.
Lord, am I hungry.
Those two frozen waffles I tossed in the toaster this morning did nothing to curb my appetite and only seemed to make it worse.
I tap my foot, impatient.
Four more people ahead of me…
Two.
“I’ll do fries, please.” I bite down on my bottom lip. “And a burger to go.” I can toss that in my backpack and eat it later during my geology lab…
After I pay, I back up.
And bump directly into a broad chest. “Oh shit, sorry.”
I glance up.
“Oh! It’s you—hey, Drew.” I brush past him now that I don’t have to launch apologies at a regular person.
Drew cocks his head to the side, staring at me as if I were a complete stranger.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
I roll my eyes, walking toward a table with my tray so I can arrange my snacks in my backpack.
“Ha ha, very funny.” Despite him pretending not to know me, he trails along behind me as I weave my way to a table I find in the corner of the crowded room.
“Drew is my brother.” The deep voice tells my back, starting at the base of my spine, working its way up.
It tingles.
I shiver.
That is the voice from the messages in the dating app…This is Drew’s face, smile, cocky grin.
I roll my eyes again, placing the tray on the table top, then remove my backpack and set it in a chair.
“Right. Next, you’re going to tell me you’re his twin.”
“I’m his twin.”
“Sure you are.”
He snorts. “So people aren’t allowed to be twins these days?”
“I think I would know if you had a twin brother.”
“I am the twin brother. You and I have never met.” He shifts on the balls of his feet with only a bottle of water in his hands. “Trust me, this happens all the time.”
As if on cue, a guy walks by, putting his fist up for a bump. “’Sup, Drake.”
Drew nods. “’Sup.” Looks at me. “See?”
“Pfft. That proves nothing.” What am I, an idiot?
Hardly.
I resume rearranging my bag so the food fits inside and won’t get crushed, withholding only the french fries, stealing one quick before zipping my bag shut.
I chew.
Ignore him.
God, he’s obnoxious.
“I recognize you, though.”
Sure, uh-huh. This illusive twin recognizes me.
“How?”
“My brother shows me his dating app from time to time.”
The way he says it is so distinctly Southern it gets my attention, and I pause with a bag of potato chips suspended above my backpack.
What does that mean? His brother shows him his dating app? “First of all, your brother and I are not dating.”
“And second of all?”
“Excuse me?” I gasp, affronted.
“You said, ‘first of all.’ I assume you were gonna to follow it with a second of all?” He seems pleased with himself, folding his arms across his chest, cocky grin plastered across his arrogant face.
“I’m allowed to say first of all without having a ‘second of all,’” I announce, snatching my backpack off the chair and shouldering it, my container of fries having lost their appeal. “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh my god. Are you going to tell me your name or not?”
He is SO ANNOYING!
“It’s Drake.”
“Drew and Drake?” I snort. “How fun, your names rhyme.”
“There are four of us, and all our names begin with the letter D.”
I start walking toward the exit. “I didn’t ask.”
Sheesh.
“Drew didn’t tell you he was a twin?”
“No.” And that seems like important information, doesn’t it? “Not that it matters.”
“Why doesn’t it matter?”
Feeling him behind me when I push through the student union doors to the courtyard beyond, I halt. Turn.
“Stop following me.”
He hesitates. “But I have to go outside.”
Ugh, fine. “Which way are you going?”
This Drake person—if he is indeed Drew Colter’s long-lost twin—points toward the library.
My brows shoot up. “You’re going to the library?”
His head shakes, and I decide he needs a bang trim. “No. I’m goin’ to the gym, which is behind the library.”
Of course he is. The dude looks like he hasn’t missed leg day in years.
I also happen to be heading in that direction, not that I want to tell him that.