“Really?” I drawl as I swing the door open. “You think wearing his tie will confuse me.”
Ty self-consciously adjusts said tie. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Fine.” I leave the door open and walk back to the television, where the commentators talk about Western State’s national championship opponent. Ty doesn’t come over and sit with me on the sofa.
He closes the door and then stands by it, staring at me.
“You’re making me uncomfortable, Ty.” I make a face at him. “Do I have eye liner on my nose or something?”
“You really can tell us apart, can’t you.”
It’s not so much a question as a strange lament. He sounds almost mournful that I can see through his little games and tricks.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“It’s obvious.” I don’t tell him he’s not as attractive as his brother because these boys have big, but tender egos.
“I came too early, didn’t I? None of the team came back, so you knew it was me.”
If that makes you feel better. Actually, no, I’m not letting him off the hook. “Jack came by twenty minutes ago.” I point to the clock. “I figured Knox got cornered in the lobby by some enthusiastic booster.”
Ty gets up and begins to pace. “Is it the way I talk? My time in the South has given me an accent, that it?”
“I think the time in the southern sun has baked your brain silly,” I say. “Why does it matter? Isn’t it a good thing?”
“Not for me.” He frowns.
From the stories Knox has shared about the times they’ve pranked people, from their parents and teachers to girlfriends and coaches, I feel almost relieved I can tell them apart.
It’d be incredibly stressful figuring out who is who. Ty should feel grateful I’m not asking one of them to get a facial tattoo so it’s easier for me to distinguish between the two of them.
“What’s the deal with your names?” I ask, since Ty can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact the two of them look completely different to me.
“What has Knox said?”
“Nothing. Although I’ve never asked. His is somewhat different. Yours is very unusual.”
A dull flush spreads across his cheekbones. “Since you’re part of the family, I’ll tell you, but only if you swear on Knox’s Achilles’s tendon you won’t tell another soul.”
“That’s your vow? On your brother’s Achilles’s tendon?” I roll my eyes. These two…it’s a wonder their beautiful mother isn’t completely gray by now.
“Do you swear it?” Ty presses.
I hold up my hand, palm out. “I, Eliot Anne Campbell, do solemnly swear never to reveal the origins of your names, even on threat of death, or the Achilles’s tendon of my beloved will be desecrated.”
Ty nods in approval. “Nice vow, but you’re Eliot Anne Masters now.” Whoops. That’s still so new I forgot. He threads his fingers together and then stretches his arms fully in front of him, pushing his palms outward, cracking about five knuckles in the process. “So my mom loves romances, specifically Scottish highlander historical ones. I may have even glimpsed a scene with my father wearing a kilt I didn’t know he owned and my mother—” He shudders. “Let’s not speak of it. I’m still traumatized.”
I press my lips together to keep from busting out a laugh at Ty’s wide-eyed horror. “You’re named after authors? Places?”
He mumbles something into his hand.
“What was that? Shmeroes?” Shmeroes? Is that even a word?
“Heroes,” he says. “Heroes. We’re named after brawny fake highlanders that my mom read about before she met my father. Or after. Shit if I know.”
I try not to laugh, but it’s impossible. I fold over and end up falling off the sofa onto the floor, holding my stomach and roaring with glee. I can imagine the locker room talk if that choice tidbit got out.
“I wish you would have put that in your SI profile,” I gasp out. Ty throws a pillow at my head.
I’m only partially composed when another sharp rap against the door rings out. I open it before looking through the peephole, figuring it’s Jack or Knox’s parents.
Instead, it’s Knox wearing his blue wool suit and white shirt with a red and white tie draped around his neck, looking mouthwateringly beautiful.
“Why are you wearing your brother’s tie?”
Knox gives me a slightly abashed look. “It was Ty’s idea.” He holds up his phone as if to show me texting proof Ty initiated this. “He said it’d make me feel good.”
Exasperated, I place my hands on my hips. “And does it?”
He smiles and looks past me into the room where Ty stands. “Yeah, sorry. It really does.”
I throw up my hands and stalk back into the room. I don’t get far before Knox gathers me against him to bury his face in my neck. “God, I’m glad to see you. I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Your parents convinced me. Called it their late Christmas present to both of us.” The ban remains in existence, so I can’t go to the game. But I can stay in a hotel in the same city as the playoff game and if it just so happens to be the same one where the Western State football players are staying? Well, oops.
“Merry Christmas to me,” he says in a low, throaty voice and turns me around.
“It’s New Year’s Eve,” I remind him.
He ignores this and places a hot, open mouthed kiss against my neck. I shudder as his lips skates against my skin. His mouth crashes against mine and we forget where we are. That we aren’t alone. That the door to the hallway is still open.
Ty’s coughing and banging of doors has us reluctantly separating.
“Hate to break up this love fest, but Mom and Dad expected us about twenty minutes ago.”
Knox’s face is a portrait of disappointment.
I stroke his cheek. “I’m sorry. They wanted to see you tonight too.”
“They did,” he complains. “They were outside the locker room. I already hugged them both.” He slides a leg between mine. “Please say we don’t have to go.”
I swallow a tiny moan at the delicious friction, and for a second, my desire to haul Knox to bed swamps my good manners. Sense prevails at the last minute and I manage to peel myself off of him. “No, we have to go. It’s the least we can do.”
“Fine.” He crosses his arms, clearly unhappy. “You wearing my jersey downstairs?”
“Nope. That was to give you good luck during the game.”
I tug the large sack of fabric over my head, revealing a skintight black dress I found at the thrift store that Riley tailored to fit my body. It’s a gorgeous piece of real silk, formerly about three sizes too big. I had my doubts, but Riley insisted and the results look stunning. Knox’s mouth falls halfway open and even Ty’s eyes have a glazed look to them.
“That’s a real nice dress, baby,” Knox croaks out as I waltz by him to pick up my clutch—also a thrift store find.
“Thanks.” I pat his cheek, thrilled at the possessive, hungry way his eyes eat me up.
Dinner is excruciating. Every touch drives me crazy and it’s the same for Knox. We can’t keep our hands off each other, and yet the only way to make it through the dinner is to stay apart. I nearly cling to his mother while he stands awkwardly by his brother, eating me up with his eyes.
There are dozens of well-wishers here.
Ty’s agent comes by, a brusque, bald man shorter than me. He’s a lawyer, Knox tells me, hard-nosed and no-nonsense. There’s not a whiff of scandal around him.
After what seems like hours later, we escape back to the hotel. We race each other to the bedroom. He sweeps my hair to the side and runs a broad hand down my back.
“Where’s the zipper in this damn thing?” he growls against my neck.
“Side zipper.” I lift my arm and show him the pull.