“So . . . did something happen between you guys, or what?”
Max might have set off a cherry bomb in the middle of the game room, judging by the way Aiden and Oliver jumped.
“W-what?” Aiden stammered.
“Nothing happened.” Oliver’s eyes got funny-big. “I dunno what you mean.”
They were downstairs, as per usual. Max was lounging on the sofa—taking up the whole thing just to be an ass—while Aiden perched on the arm and Oliver reclined in the chair next to that. It might have been a day like any other, if it weren’t for the storm cloud-worthy tension crackling in the air.
Max’s whole face puckered with disbelief. “Uh-huh.” Real convincing, guys.
He didn’t press the issue, but if Aiden and Oliver thought the moony looks they kept shooting each other were subtle, they were off the fucking rails. It would’ve been less obvious if one of the Yankees had busted into the house and started lobbing fastballs past Max’s head. He had no idea what had gone down—he wasn’t a mind reader, after all—but shit had clearly gotten real.
Two precious weeks of summer had passed since they’d reunited with Oliver, and the Three Musketeers had fallen into a routine: wake up, meet up, hang out, and sleep. Or at least, that was how it had been, until today.
Max studied them out of the corner of his eye while pretending to watch TV. At first, he’d thought maybe they’d had a fight. Why else would they be acting so weird around each other? But considering what he’d seen at the arcade . . .
Could this be sexual tension? Ew.
Max didn’t want to think about his brother and his childhood friend slinking around each other like cats in heat, and not solely for the obvious reasons. He shared a face with Aiden. He now knew exactly what he looked like with a big pair of googly eyes. It wasn’t flattering.
Then again, Max could be totally misreading things. What evidence did he have beyond some odd looks and awkwardness? Aiden was always awkward, and Oliver wasn’t much better. But then, Max did have the much-touted twin telepathy.
He might not know much, but he knew his brother. He understood Aiden’s moods, and when he was pretending to be upset versus when he actually was. Same with when he acted upbeat around friends and professors when in reality, he was downright miserable. Right now, Max’s senses were telling him that love was in the air. Or, at least, lust.
As if to confirm his suspicions, Aiden and Oliver both sneaked a peek at each other at the same time, and when their eyes met, Max swore music swelled in the background.
Shit. This had all the makings of summer loving, had me a blast. How had he not seen this coming?
Because you never thought your geeky brother and shy friend would actually do anything.
Goddamn it, this could ruin their whole summer. There had to be a way to stop this train wreck before it started.
What could he do, though? Tell them to cut it out? Whack ’em with a rolled-up newspaper? Fill a spray bottle with water and squirt them whenever they looked at each other?
“Uh, Max?”
Max broke from his thoughts and glanced at Aiden. “What?”
“Are you changing channels for the fun of it, or what?”
Max had taken the remote and absently mashed the channel button in frustration. One look at the TV screen told him they were whizzing by too fast for anyone to process what was on them. So much for pretending to watch.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought.” He tossed the remote to Oliver, who caught it easily. “You pick something. You’re the guest.”
Aiden and Oliver exchanged a look that Max did not like one bit.
“Actually,” Aiden said, “we were thinking we wanted to do something today.”
“Today?” Max repeated. It was already afternoon. Hadn’t the ship sailed on today?
“Yes, brother dear. Today.” Aiden stood up and stretched. “I know summer’s supposed to be about recharging, but we can’t keep lazing around.”
“I like lazing around, thanks.” Max didn’t mean to sound so crabby, but he didn’t like having his lifestyle called into question. “You guys want to play some Madden or something? We could make a mini fantasy football league.”
Oliver—who came the closest to sharing Max’s love of spectator sports—did him the courtesy of considering it before he shook his dark head. “If I don’t get off my ass and do something, I’m going to atrophy. Last year, I fell out of my workout routine over the summer, and then when the season started again, I was way behind. I don’t want to do that again.”
“You fit people and your exercise,” Max joked. It came out flat. “What’s the plan, then? If you guys try to drag me to a gym, there will be blood.”
They exchanged another look, and Max got the sense that they’d had this conversation already.
“We were thinking we might go to Hudson Park,” Aiden said. “Walk around. Maybe throw a Frisbee.”
The use of we was unmistakable. We, as in Aiden and Oliver. We, as in not Max. They’d made this plan without him.
It was bad enough Max was on the fringe of their bizarre mating ritual, but now he was left out of the decision-making process as well. Max, who had always taken charge when it came to plans and activities, was now an afterthought.
His stomach acid roiled. Don’t overreact. It’s not that serious.
“Isn’t it a little hot for the park?”
“Yeah,” Aiden said, “but we’ll find some shade. We wanted to go this morning when it was cooler, but you slept until noon.”
Am I imagining things, or did that sound a bit like an accusation?
Aiden continued. “It’ll be fun. We’ll bring towels so you can sit in the grass if you want. Maybe we can score a spot on the riverbank.” Aiden glanced at Oliver. “You’ll like that, right? Getting to hang out by the water?”
“Yeah, though I want to get some vitamin D too.” He held up his arm. “I’m getting pale.”
“Yeah, right.” Aiden leaned over and put his arm next to Oliver’s. “I guess that makes me Casper.”
They giggled. Max wanted to scream.
“Well, I hope you guys have fun,” he snapped.
That got their attention.
Oliver looked at Aiden, as if for guidance.
Aiden pursed his lips. “Max, what do you mean? You’re coming too.”
“Yeah, dude, it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Oliver rubbed his palms on his jeans like they were clammy. “Besides, it’s a beautiful day. It’d be a shame to miss it.”
Max was overcome by the pettiness building within him. “Maybe for you athletic types, but I’m the lazy twin, remember? I’d hate to make you bring blankets just so I’ll have somewhere to sit around and do nothing. You’d be better off without me.”
Max himself was shocked by how bitter he sounded. Where the fuck had that outburst come from? How long had he been stewing on that particular insecurity, and why was it bubbling up now?
He was about to apologize and try to smooth things over, when Aiden and Oliver exchanged another infuriating look. Max shut his mouth with a smack of lips.
“If you want to stay in, we can stay in.” Aiden’s tone wasn’t patronizing, per se, but it was a little too fake-soothing. As if Max were a toddler, and Aiden was the long-suffering parent. “We don’t want to exclude you.”
There was that we again. Max was struck by the oddest urge to reclaim his territory. He jumped to his feet. “On second thought, I could go for some fresh air. Let me change clothes, and we can leave. Oliver, do you want to borrow some shorts or something?”
Oliver’s relieved expression punched Max in the gut. “That would be great, yeah.”
“I guess jeans are gonna be too hot, huh?” Aiden frowned down at his own denim-clad legs. “I’ll change too, and we can meet in the living room.”
Aiden went off to his room while Max led Oliver to his. As soon as he walked in, he wished he’d thought to tidy up. It looked like a suitcase full of dirty laundry had exploded inside, but whatever. Oliver had seen worse.
It wasn’t until Max closed the door behind them that renewed unease crept over him. Perplexed, he tried to shake it off as he sifted through his bureau for two pairs of clean shorts.
“Can I have the green ones?” Oliver asked.
Max scoffed but tossed them to him. “Trying to bring out the color of your eyes?”
He’d meant it as a joke, but there was a noticeable flush in Oliver’s face as he stripped off his jeans and pulled the shorts on.
At the first flash of bare skin, Max suddenly realized why he felt uneasy. Before, he would have thought nothing of changing in front of Oliver. Hell, they’d taken baths together when they were little, and Mom had the embarrassing photos to prove it. But now . . .
This isn’t because he’s gay, is it? Because if so, you’re gonna have to kick your own ass.
Max did a quick self-analysis and determined that wasn’t the issue. So what was?
“Dude.” Oliver interrupted his thoughts. “I’m comfortable with my body and all, but could you not stare?”
“Right! Sorry.” Max turned back to the drawer, blushing so hard he must have looked like Aiden. Well, more so than usual.
He selected a pair of black shorts and started to undress, but his hands hesitated on the fly of his jeans. Did this sudden weirdness have something to do with Aiden? Or the changes between him and Oliver, or—
It was like a damn light bulb went off above Max’s head. Aiden was in better shape than him, hands down, but they were still twins. Undressing in front of Oliver was kinda like giving him a peek at what Aiden looked like naked. Would Oliver see it that way?
Max glanced over his shoulder. Oliver had taken a seat on his bed while he waited. He wasn’t ogling Max, but he also wasn’t facing the other way either.
“You change your mind or something?” Oliver asked when he noticed Max looking at him.
“Uh, no.” Stop being weird. It’s Oliver. You watched him eat a crayon once.
Max stripped down, but he was tense the whole time. His mind whirred with errant thoughts. If he hadn’t volunteered to let Oliver borrow his clothes, would Aiden have? Would Oliver be in Aiden’s room right now? Undressing?
The unfamiliar emotions that had been churning in Max’s stomach finally boiled over. What was this? Was he jealous or something? What did he have to be jealous of?
“Hey, are you okay?” Oliver stood up and moved to his side.
Max waved him off. “I’m fine.” He finished dressing, ran a hand through his curls, and took a deep breath. “Ollie, can I ask you something?”
Oliver’s face sobered. “Sure.” Aiden probably thought Max was too oblivious to pick up on what was happening, but judging by the caginess of Oliver’s expression, he was expecting a blow.
Max opened his mouth, but as soon as he did, it occurred to him that he wasn’t sure what to ask. Are you dating my brother? Are you guys serious or fucking around? Is this any of my business whatsoever?
He closed his mouth.
“Max?” Oliver looked him over, as if checking for signs of trauma. “You were gonna ask me something?”
“Um, yeah.” Max flipped through a mental rolodex of possible questions before settling on a genuine curiosity of his. “How can you always tell me and Aiden apart?”
Oliver blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve never mixed us up. Not once in the past two weeks. Our own mother gets us confused every now and then.”
“Really?”
“Well, it’s rare, and it usually involves seeing us out of our element. Like, if she looks at Aiden from behind, or if I’m reading a book. Anyway, I’m curious as to how you can tell which of us is which.”
Oliver rubbed his chin. “Well . . . it’s hard to put into words. It’s sort of a vibe, but not in, like, a New Age kind of way. Aiden has this calmness that radiates off him, whereas you’re more energetic. It’s odd to say, but when I look at Aiden, I get the same feeling I get when I look out over the water. I feel . . . peaceful.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m babbling, sorry. I hope that answers your question.”
Max stared at him, heart jackhammering in his chest.
“Max?” Oliver waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Do you need medical attention? You keep spacing out.”
“I never thought . . .” Max wiped his brow. “It never occurred to me that . . .”
“What?”
Max didn’t know how to finish that sentence. A moment ago, he’d thought he was so perceptive. He’d thought Aiden and Oliver were the dense ones for thinking he wouldn’t notice what was going on. But he’d had no idea.
They were in love. Or, at least, Oliver was in love with Aiden. After that little speech, there was no question. And why wouldn’t Aiden love him back? They got along great, they’d been friends forever, and they’d already met each other’s family. Plus, they had everything in common. Upbringing. Goals. Hobbies. They had all the ingredients for an epic romance lined up and ready to go.
And fuck, Max hadn’t seen it coming. He’d suspected, but just because he’d spotted the light didn’t mean he was prepared for the train currently smacking into him.
The silence had stretched on for way too long. Max gave himself a mental shake. “Sorry, forget I said anything. I’m having an off day. Let’s go meet Aiden. He’s probably wondering where we are.”
Oliver nudged him in the side, grinning. “Hopefully he doesn’t think any funny business was going on.”
Yeah, right. You’re in love with my brother. Like you’d come anywhere near me.
Max led the way to the living room, trying to pretend he wasn’t caught up in his own head. Sure enough, Aiden was standing by the front door with a bitter look on his face, the same one he got when Max made him late for class.
At the sight of Oliver, however, he grinned. “Took you long enough.”
“Sorry, I was coordinating my ensemble.” Oliver walked right up to Aiden like he intended to kiss him, but at the last second, he stopped short. They both looked at Max like they’d forgotten he was there.
Aiden cleared his throat. “Are we ready to go?”
There was a flicker of a moment in which Max considered faking a cramp to get out of this whole thing. He’d been perfectly happy watching TV, and if he was going to be a third wheel, he’d rather stay home. Besides, if they really were in love and didn’t know it, having some alone time might do them some good. They might figure this whole thing out, and then . . .
And then what? Where would that leave Max?
His chest tightened with yet more emotions he couldn’t quite interpret. Maybe that cramp idea wasn’t so far from the truth.
“Yeah,” he found himself saying. “Let’s go.”
Aiden drove, as per usual, and Oliver called shotgun, which meant Max was relegated to the back seat. Oliver chattered on about some class he’d taken last year while Aiden balanced driving with staring at him. If they died in a fiery crash, at least Max could comfort himself with the knowledge that it was totally worth it.
For the life of him, Max couldn’t figure out why this whole thing bothered him so much. He tried to dissect his reactions as they reached their destination and snagged a parking spot beneath a tree. The park, which was aptly named Scenic Hudson Park, was every bit as pretty as Max remembered. Crisp green grass stretched up to the rocky bank of a river that wound off toward the horizon. Park benches and shady trees dotted the idyllic scene. The sun was dripping down the cloudless sky in preparation of what would undoubtedly be a gorgeous sunset.
It was hot, but not as oppressively so as Max had anticipated. He spotted a handful of people jogging and some children playing on one of the baseball fields, but otherwise it was quiet.
Oliver stretched his hands up until his spine cracked. “Oh, yeah. This is exactly what I needed. I’m like a lizard. I get my energy from the sun.”
Aiden nudged him. “Or a flower.”
“No, trust me. Lizard.”
They laughed, and Max found himself laughing along with them. Some of his paranoia ebbed away as they trotted toward the riverbank. Maybe things weren’t changing after all. They were all still friends. They were still hanging out, still laughing and joking. Maybe he’d gotten all worked up over nothing.
“Hey, Max,” Oliver asked as they scoped out a shady spot. “Whatever happened with that girl? The one from the arcade?”
“Danielle?” Max shrugged. “I called her, but she didn’t pick up. Probably because she didn’t recognize the number. I’ll try her again soon.”
“Did you leave a voice mail?”
“Hell no. I’m old-school. I’m not wooing a girl over a machine. Besides, I’ve seen too many sitcoms where people fuck up their messages, and then everything cascades from there. If I’m going to make a fool of myself, I want to do it in real time.”
Aiden chuckled. “That’s my brother.”
They spent the next hour doing nothing in particular, and it was wonderful. They found an abandoned soccer ball and kicked it around until they got bored of that, and then Aiden and Oliver raced each other to the riverbank. Aiden won by a sliver, Oliver demanded a recount, and Max was called in to act as referee. He ruled in Aiden’s favor—of course—which sparked a lively debate about nepotism that had Max laughing until he couldn’t breathe.
Afterward, they lay in the grass and talked and talked, like they used to when they were kids. If they could live anywhere in the world, where would they go? What did they want to be when they grew up? Aiden recounted the tale of the Christmas when they were eight.
Oliver’s dad had given him a toy police kit with a real fingerprint duster. They’d spent the whole afternoon dusting his house and fingerprinting each other. They’d been fascinated to discover that Max and Aiden had different prints. The ink hadn’t come off their hands for days. All three of them had different stories about how they’d finally gotten it off.
As the sun moved doggedly across the sky, they started talking about leaving.
“I don’t want to go home just yet, though,” Oliver said. “We still have hours before dinner.”
“We could see a movie.” Max was lying in the grass with his hands folded beneath his head. When they started to go numb, he held them in front of his eyes, admiring the latticework of marks the grass had left in his skin. “All this sun has made me want to go chill in the dark for a couple of hours.”
“I’m down for that.” Oliver was sitting at the base of a nearby tree with his back to the bark. Aiden was also sitting beneath the tree, but he’d settled the exact right amount of distance away. Not so far that it looked weird but not so close that anyone would think they were sitting together. As someone who knew how analytical his brother could be, Max wanted to laugh.
“What should we see?” Aiden asked. “There’s that one film about the service animals used in the Vietnam War that’s supposed to be fascinating.”
“Veto,” Max said. “I don’t want to see anything I have to think about. How about Fist of Impact?”
Aiden crinkled his nose. “That action movie with all the explosions? Um, no. There’s a difference between not thinking and being induced into a coma.”
“Then again.” Oliver looked over at Aiden. “We could sit in the back and make fun of it the whole time.”
Aiden pursed his lips. “I dunno. I swore off hate-watching movies after the fifth Pirates of the Caribbean film. The joke was on me, that time. What about that one kids movie? The one with the balloon factory?”
“Dude!” Oliver clapped his hands together. “I’ve seen it, and let me tell you, it’s awesome. I’m not ashamed to admit I teared up at the end.”
“Wanna see it again?”
“Hell yeah! Sounds perfect.” Oliver jumped to his feet, pulled Aiden up, and was about to offer his hand to Max when he paused. “Max? Is something wrong?”
Max had grown increasingly tense as he’d listened to Aiden and Oliver. “So, that’s it? We’re not going to discuss this any further?”
Oliver’s hand fell limply to his side. “You don’t want to see the balloon movie?”
“Oh sure, now you ask me. After you two have already decided that’s what we’re seeing.” As frustrated as Max was, he had to ask himself if he was really as opposed to seeing this movie as he was acting.
No . . . but it’s the principle of the thing.
Oliver and Aiden exchanged another look, and bile rose up in the back of Max’s throat.
“Well, I hate to say this, but it’s two against one,” Aiden said.
That was the wrong argument. Max’s temper sparked up like a flare. “What, there’s no such thing as compromise in this new democracy of ours? If you’ll recall, Oliver was also okay with seeing my movie. Fist of Impact has two votes, which makes it a tie.”
“But I was going to see it to make fun of it.” Oliver shuffled his feet. “If it comes down to it, I’d much rather see the kids movie again. It had a great soundtrack.”
Max’s ire was rising by the second. “We’re twenty. We’re too old for that sort of thing.”
Now, Max knew for a fact he didn’t believe that. He still watched cartoons while wearing his Batman pajamas. But irritation was bubbling up in him like a geyser about to explode, and he couldn’t seem to keep a lid on it.
“I guess . . . we could split up?” Aiden sounded unsure. “You can see your movie, and we can see ours?”
The last of Max’s self-control snapped, and irritation bloomed into white-hot anger inside him. “You’re ditching me?”
Aiden’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say that. I—”
“That’s exactly what you said. I don’t want to see your movie, so you’re gonna go without me instead of trying to compromise.”
“Not for nothing,” Oliver said, “but the kids movie was the compromise. You didn’t want to watch Aiden’s movie, and he didn’t want to watch yours, so we picked a third option.”
“A third option that I don’t want to see. I can’t believe you guys are gonna make me watch that crap.”
“We’re not making you do anything,” Aiden said. “Don’t blame us for this. You’re the one who’s throwing a temper tantrum because you didn’t get your way. You’re such a child sometimes.”
The second the words were out of his mouth, a hush fell over them.
Max stared at his brother without really seeing him. Despite the heat, he felt cold. A mixture of humiliation and betrayal washed through him.
Max was being ridiculous. He knew he was. But hell if he was going to admit it to Aiden, the world’s biggest know-it-all.
Oliver hesitated. “Max . . . is something else bothering you?”
That was a spectacular question.
Max had always been the leader. He’d always taken charge and made the plans, because if he didn’t, Aiden would never do anything social. But now Aiden and Oliver were making their own plans, and Max was left to either tag along or get left behind. He swore he could almost feel the power dynamic shifting around them.
“I guess this is how things are going to be now,” he said to no one in particular. “You two vote together, and I always lose.”
“Oh, please.” Aiden rolled his eyes. “This is so dramatic.”
Max opened his mouth to say something nasty—he didn’t know what, but it was going to hurt—when Oliver stepped between them.
“Guys”—he held up his hands—“you both need a time-out. This is exactly like when we were kids. Max, you would explode over something small that you’d probably get over in five minutes if left alone. But then Aiden would slowly build up to being angry, and right as you were ready to calm down, he’d get you going again. I’ve seen you guys fight for hours this way, and that’s not how I want to spend the rest of my day.”
Max worried his bottom lip. Oliver was right. No one knew how to irritate him better than his twin. There was a part of him that was willing to admit Aiden had a point: he was causing a big stink over nothing. He wasn’t even sure why.
He was contemplating offering up an apology when Oliver turned to Aiden and whispered something under his breath. Max couldn’t make out most of what Oliver said, but he caught his name loud and clear.
Wow, way to talk about me like I’m not here, Ollie.
That would have been reason enough for Max to get irritated all over again, but then Aiden whispered back, “Stop making excuses for him. If he’s going to be like this, he can go home.”
“Well, fuck you too, brother dear.” Max climbed to his feet, heart pounding. “Going home sounds great to me. You two can do whatever the hell you want with your night. Drop me off, or if that’s too much trouble, I’ll walk.”
“It’s five miles,” Aiden said.
It didn’t escape Max’s notice that he didn’t try to talk him out of leaving. “I know it is, genius. Believe it or not, I can count.”
“Max, stop it.” Oliver looked back and forth between them. “Aiden, you’re no better. You guys are fighting over nothing.”
A stray thought flitted into Max’s mind as if planted there: That’s rich, considering this all started when you showed up.
Holy shit. Where had that come from?
Max would have to examine it later. He’d finally thought of the nasty thing he wanted to say. He shot Aiden a saccharine smile. “You know, if you wanted some alone time with your new boyfriend, you could have asked.”
Aiden paled. “Oliver’s not . . . We’re not . . .”
“Bullshit. You can’t lie to me, twin. I’d recognize your clumsy attempts at flirting anywhere. Guess you don’t know everything after all.”
He whirled around before either of them could reply and marched back to the car. He stood with his arms crossed and stared pointedly at the ground until he heard shuffling feet approach, followed by the click of the door unlocking. Max threw himself into the back seat without another word.
The first half of the drive was library-silent. As they neared their house, however, Oliver tried to talk Max into coming with them. Aiden didn’t speak, and Oliver never once offered to see the movie Max wanted to see.
Not that Max would have agreed to go even if they’d both caved at this point. In truth, he was too embarrassed when he thought back on how he’d acted. He wasn’t totally at fault, sure, but he’d started the whole thing, and for what? He needed to figure out what the hell was chewing his ass before he wrecked his two closest relationships.
When they pulled up into the driveway, he wordlessly exited the car. He trudged up to the house without looking back. Part of him hoped his brother would come chasing after him—like when they fought when they were little—but after a tense few seconds, he heard their shared car back out of the driveway and speed away.
Which was remarkable, really, considering the car had just lost its third wheel.
Max stabbed his key into the front door and opened it with such force, the wood creaked.
“Boys?” called Dad’s voice from the kitchen. “Is that you? Your mother and I are were just thinking about starting dinner.”
Max forced himself to sound neutral. “It’s me, Dad. Aiden and Oliver went to see a movie.”
Mom’s head popped into the hallway. “Without you? That seems kind of rude.”
“Yeah, no sh—” He stopped himself in the nick. “I’m not feeling well. I’m gonna go lie down.”
Mom eyed him, as if she sensed something was up, but all she asked was, “Want some water? Juice? Healing mom kisses?”
“Later. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Max trundled to his room, feeling more exhausted with every step. He reached his door and was about to push it open, but on impulse, he turned down the hall and went into Aiden’s room instead. It was much neater than Max’s—he’d actually taken the time to put his clothes into drawers. The desktop lamp had been left on, illuminating Aiden’s bookshelf and the corkboard that hung above his workspace.
School papers, tickets, and photos had been tacked onto it. The last time Max had looked at it, the photos had all been of them. Prom. Their graduation. Moving into their first apartment. There were other people here and there, but the central theme was clear: the Kingsman twins.
Now, however, there was an open shoebox of old photos on the desk, and from it, Aiden had made some new additions. Max didn’t have to look twice to recognize who was in the new-old photos. Oliver.
Fucking figures.
A school photo of him had taken the place of the picture of Max and Aiden in their caps and gowns. Same went for the one of Max and Aiden standing by their car on their sixteenth birthday. And there was another one of all three of them in the backyard, but Max’s face was hidden beneath the corner of an old essay.
Max scoffed. The metaphor was so blatant, even he could have written a thesis on it. He was being replaced. By a guy they hadn’t talked to in a decade. Max grumbled under his breath. Oliver was great and all, but Aiden was his brother. Where was the loyalty? Where was the literal bros before figurative bros?
And all because they have the hots for each other. Fuck this.
Maybe if Max talked to Aiden, he could get him to realize what a mistake he was making. After all, at the end of the summer, Oliver was going to go back to the city. He wasn’t going to be there for Aiden like Max was, like Max had always been. Aiden couldn’t see it because he was caught up in the romance. As his older brother, it was Max’s responsibility to force him to be reasonable.
Before the thought had fully solidified, Max shook his head to himself. “Am I really gonna turn on Oliver like this? Am I gonna be that shitty friend? All because I’m . . .”
He sucked in a breath, and his mental voice finished his sentence for him. Jealous.
Shit. He’d been told more than once that he was immature, but he’d always thought he was supposed to be at this age. He couldn’t even drink legally, after all. If people were going to expect him to have all the answers, they were going to be disappointed.
But he didn’t want to be immature about this. No matter how much he wanted to blame Oliver and let his temper take over, he wasn’t going to let that happen. For once in his life, he was going to think this through like a goddamn adult.
He wandered over to Aiden’s bed and flung himself onto it. Might as well start at the top of the list. Why was he so jealous of Aiden and Oliver’s budding romance?
Well, it took attention away from Max. That much was a given. But it had to run deeper than that.
They were hiding the relationship from him. He shook his head. On some level, it stung that Aiden wasn’t sharing this part of his life with him, but Aiden was also oblivious. He couldn’t share something that he hadn’t fully explored for himself.
Max thought harder. He was being third-wheeled. That would upset anyone. But Oliver and Aiden had gone out of their way to invite him to things, though it had certainly backfired. They obviously weren’t trying to exclude him. Then again, judging by what had gone down at the park, he felt excluded regardless. He filed that away as a possibility.
What else was there? He wasn’t the leader anymore. After a lifetime of big-brothering, he didn’t like being relegated to a minor role.
All of these were perfectly good reasons for him to be jealous, but he was starting to think he wasn’t asking himself the right questions.
Maybe it’s not about why you’re jealous, but rather who you’re jealous of.
The obvious answer was Aiden. He was calling the shots now, and he’d gotten Oliver on his side. Max felt like he was being dog-piled by his own brother and friend.
But then, Oliver was only a friend. Maybe Max was jealous because Oliver was taking Aiden away from him. His baby brother. The one who turned to Max when he was upset. Max’s confidant. His best friend. Aiden could now turn to Oliver for support instead of Max. Maybe that was part of it. Aiden was more interested in someone else now.
What if it’s both of those things?
Something like a gameshow bell went off in Max’s head. We have a winner.
He didn’t want Oliver to take Aiden’s attention away from him. At the same time, he hated that Aiden had someone else who was important to him. Max had lots of friends, but he’d always given Aiden priority, especially since Aiden didn’t have many friends of his own. And now, Aiden had glommed onto Oliver, abandoning Max in favor of a newer, shinier relationship.
Jesus, Aiden was right. I am dramatic.
Max needed to remind himself that they’d had one fight, and Aiden and Oliver weren’t dating yet. Max was acting like he’d been abandoned by his one and only precious sibling, when in reality, they all needed to figure some things out.
Namely, Max needed to accept the fact that if things didn’t work out between Oliver and Aiden, that wasn’t the end of this conundrum. There would be other boyfriends.
Even if it wasn’t until years from now, someone was going to come along and steal Aiden’s heart. They’d have their own, special bond that Max could never be a part of. And the same went for Max. He’d never had a steady girlfriend before, but he was bound to someday, and when that happened, the Kingsman twins would split up into couples.
That was surprisingly hard to swallow. They were twins. They were a pair. They weren’t meant to be broken up.
Max was beginning to understand why he’d gotten so angry. He was losing a part of his identity. Big brother. Twin. The hero who swooped in and saved Aiden from bullies and loneliness. Only, in the end, Aiden had moved on without him.
“What a fucking mess,” he grumbled to both himself and the ceiling. He remembered how silent Aiden had been in the car ride. After years of falling in line, it seemed little brother was ready to stir some dissent in the ranks.
Max needed to defuse this before it blew up in his face as dramatically as he’d blown up earlier. Talking seemed like the easiest fix to him.
“The next time I see Aiden,” he whispered to himself, “I’ll explain everything. He’ll listen to me. I’m his big brother, after all.”