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)
Twenty minutes go by.
Then thirty-five.
My knee bounces anxiously until at the front of the class, Professor Randall dismisses us for our quick break.
Drew stands, heading for the drinking fountain and exiting the lecture hall before I can get to him.
"Hey, Drew!" I call, hating the sound of my voice as I try to rise above the noise. He leans over the drinking fountain near a sea of mingling students, none of them anxious to get back to class.
He straightens and turns, water dripping from his chin. “Oh sorry, were you waiting?” Pause. “Forgot my water bottle at home.”
He steps aside, presumably so I can use the bubbler.
“No, you goof, I was waiting for you.” I give him a flirty tap on the upper arm.
“Waiting for me?”
“I thought you were going to sit by me, but maybe you thought it would be too distracting in class.” My joking little lilt escapes his notice, and Drew frowns.
“You thought I was going to sit by you?” He scratches the back of his head the way he usually does. “Have we met?”
“Have we met?” I repeat, the teasing tone still in my voice. “Um. A few times.” Weirdo.
“Sorry, I meet a lot of people and have a bad memory when it comes to faces.”
Pretty sure my mouth falls open. “Why are you being weird?”
He shrugs apologetically, then stretches out his hand. It sits suspended between us.
“I’m Drew Colter.”
“Am I supposed to shake that?” I tease, nudging him. “Who even shakes hands anymore?”
Drew looks at me with a confused expression, taking back his hand.
He runs a hand through the hair I could have sworn had just been cut. Didn’t he just get a cut? Crap, maybe I’m the one who has a bad memory.
“I meet a lot of people, and sometimes it takes me a while to remember names and faces.”
“Do you have amnesia?” I blurt out rudely. “Did you take a hard hit at practice?”
“We’re done with practice,” he tells me seriously. “We’re in our off-season.”
Ha. “I knew that. I was kidding because you’re acting like you don’t remember me, and we went out last night.” I pause. “Or maybe I’m not as memorable as I thought I was.”
“Maybe…you think I’m someone else. I have a twin brother.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Nope, pretty sure you’re the you I’m talking to. We’ve been in this class all semester, and the last two we spent talking.”
Drew looks down at me. “Trust me, you and I have never spoken.”
He looks sincere.
He sounds sincere.
“Then how would I know how you got that scar on your eyebrow from some kid in pee wee football?”
Drew stares at me. “I don’t have a scar on my eyebrow.”
My eyes travel from his eyes to his brows.
Shit.
He’s right—there is no scar in the center of his brows.
He groans just then, running a hand down his face. “Drake does.”
I open my mouth.
Close it.
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Do you think he…?”
“Pretended to be me? Totally. I had him audit this class for me because I was behind on another project for another class.”
“Why would he lie?”
Drew—the real Drew Colter—shrugs. “He’s trying to find me a girlfriend.”
He says it so matter-of-factly. As in, no big deal, I’m used to it.
“But he gave me his number. Er, your number.”
“Let me see your phone.”
I fish it out of my back pocket, poke on Drew’s name, poke on info.
He shakes his head. “Yeah, this isn’t my phone number, it’s his. He’s pretending to be me but gave you his actual phone number?” He hands my phone back. “He really sucks at this covert dating business.”
When he hands it back, I stare down at my phone, the tiny illuminated screen with the name Drew Colter glowing back at me.
Drew laughs, sounding so much like his twin it’s hard to reconcile the two people as not being the same. Though now that I’m looking at him, I can spot at least one difference: the way his lips don’t smile as much, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the small indentation in one of his cheeks.
“So all this time I’ve been talking to your brother?”
He grimaces. “In his defense, he did tell me about you.”
My spirits rise. “He told you about me?”
“Yeah. He wanted me to go on a date with you.” His features scrunch up. “I think it was last week?”
My spirits fall. “Oh.”
Last week.
Then it hits me.
He was trying to set his brother up with me last week, then he went on a date with me himself last night.
Everyone around us is moving back into the lecture hall, the time to socialize and respite gone.
“I’m sorry about all this.” Drew smiles at me.
It’s a nice smile; a kind smile.
Unlike the lady-killing smolder of his twin brother.
“Don’t apologize.” He hadn’t done anything wrong.
His brother had.
“Do you want…” Drew has his hands in his pockets, bashfully watching me. “Wanna bring your stuff over and sit by me? I feel like we still have more to talk about.”