Stacy

Things were falling apart.

I knew this, could practically feel the end coming, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. I’d tried to no avail, and I was getting more and more worried. Desperation wasn’t a good look for me, that was for sure.

And Maverick…well, he wouldn’t budge on the whole emotional response thing, of which there was none. Did he care? Did he want me around? He asked me to come over sometimes. Did that matter? Did his calling me to say he wanted to spend time together mean anything?

If calling meant something, then what did it mean when he didn’t call? When it fell on me to ask and invite and cajole. Like today… Today was all on me. I’d called Maverick from work to see if he wanted me to come over for dinner. Being forced into a spot where I wasn’t sure if I was wanted was harsh. His response had been heartbreaking.

If you’d like.

I didn’t care about what I liked, I wanted to know what he liked. Would he care if I chose not to call for days? Would he notice? Did I want to know?

Still, I went because I didn’t want to be alone—and because I missed him when he wasn’t with me. After work, I headed to the warehouse. I was just about to open the front door to the warehouse when my phone rang. For a moment, I had this horrible, almost panic attack thought that it was Maverick calling off our food-Netflix-and-chill night, but no. It was worse.

It was Chad.

“What’s up, hot stuff?”

“Shut up, Chad. What do you want?”

“You busy tonight?”

Which meant sex. He wanted sex. Because that was all we were to each other—fuck buddies with a hell of a lot of history. But no more.

“Sorry, killer, but I have a date. With my boyfriend.”

“Oh, look at you getting all serious. Do I know him?” He sounded happy and confident, not at all bothered by the fact that I had a boyfriend. I hadn’t had one since him, to be honest. Not that he cared.

Not that I wanted him to care. “No, you don’t know him. He’s not from around here.”

Understatement. Literally.

“Has he met your sister yet?”

I froze, my stomach dropping into my shoes and ice water running through my veins. “What?”

“Has he met Macy?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling like I was going to throw up all over my pretty, peep toed shoes. “She lives in the same building he does.”

His chuckle was a lot less friendly. “Well, that’s convenient.”

“What are you implying, Chad?”

He raised his voice in a mocking way. A very un-Chad way. “Oh gosh, Stace. I swear, I thought she was you.”

“Macy’s in a relationship with his friend. She wouldn’t do that.”

“But does he want to?” Chad’s tone ate at me. His words sank in deep in a way only he knew how to do. Because with all our history, he knew every button to hit to make me doubt. And he hit them hard. “Or are they going to share you? Is that what this is? Some plan between two guys for the twin threesome of their fantasies? Her guy gets you two one night, yours the next?”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m realistic and a guy. I know how men think. No guy can resist the pull of identical twins. It’s practically an obsession.”

“Not for him,” I said, but doubt hit me hard. The whole living situation was awfully convenient. I knew Macy would never—and I mean never—even think about doing anything like that. One, she had Hudson, but two, she was a good sister. She wouldn’t hurt me that way.

“Oh, so you were the backup?” Chad asked. “Macy hooked her guy first, right? Yeah, I can see that. She’s such an aggressive chick with her career shit. It’s hot. I’ve known you since high school, and I still have no idea what you actually do.”

Data processing and project analysis, but who the hell knew what that meant? Obviously not Chad. Definitely not Maverick.

Everything inside of me shattered like glass. My hopes, my feelings for Maverick, my confidence…all gone. It couldn’t be true, but the doubts fed off Chad’s words. His accusations. And doubt lied. Doubt lied hard. Maverick claimed he wanted me? That he was matched to me and took that seriously? How could I know for sure?

What if he hung out with Macy and Hudson just to be around my brilliant, driven sister?

What if he wished he had her instead of me?

Was I just the backup plan?

“I hate you, Chad,” I said, my voice weak and wobbly as I fought back tears.

“Don’t be like that. You know you can trust me. I don’t want your sister. But other guys? I’m telling you. That fantasy might as well be an instinct.”

“Shut up,” I hissed. Hating him. Hating myself. Hating everything.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll back off. Good luck, Stace. Call me if things crash and burn, though. You know I’ll be there for you, baby.”

I hung up, closing my eyes against the sick feeling burning in my gut. I hated him, hated the way he undermined everything, hated how he always brought up those old doubts of mine.

But what if he was right?

No. Maverick wasn’t like that. True, he seemed to have trouble expressing his feelings, but he showed them, right? He hugged me. He held me at night. He showed up. That had to count for something.

If I needed to hear the words, I’d have to tell him that. Tell him I was on edge and unsure. Seek some solid ground with him. This was a relationship, one that needed a good foundation of trust and honesty to grow. I just had to tell him how I felt and hope he felt the same way. And I’d do it tonight.

I hurried up the stairs at the lofts, needing to see him. Wanting to feel his arms around me so I could calm myself. Ignoring every other person who walked past me in my hyperfocused need to get to Maverick’s place and have the conversation I’d been avoiding like a child.

I was a grown-up. I could do this. Adulting sucked, but worrying about something I could easily get an answer to was worse.

But before I could reach Maverick’s apartment, I had to walk past Hudson’s. The one he shared with my sister. The door wasn’t closed all the way, as the guys tended to come and go like family. Normally, nothing I’d really think about. But Maverick’s voice coming from inside had me stopping in my tracks.

“I want yours.”

“They’re the exact same,” Hudson replied. The two were obviously arguing, their voices a bit louder than usual.

“No, they’re not.” Maverick sounded pissed, which wasn’t like him. He was broody and had a bad attitude at times, but he never really got angry with us. At least, not with me.

“There’re only a few minor differences. They are the same.” Hudson’s words sent a chill up my spine. What the hell were they talking about?

“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen the differences. Yours is cleaner with less damage.”

I leaned closer, that sick feeling reigniting. Damage? Were they talking about Macy and me? Was he equating my scars to…damage?

“So what do you want to do?” Hudson asked. I pressed myself against the doorframe, waiting for Maverick’s answer. Wanting to know the same thing. What did he want to do with his damaged…whatever?

“I don’t know,” Maverick said, sounding even more irritated. “But I need to figure something out. They may be similar, but they’re not exactly the same. And this one, mine, it may work right, but it looks defective. I don’t want something so ugly.”

Maverick

I held the drill someone had obviously been chewing on. The damn thing had teeth marks all over it. It ran, but it looked ugly and was disgustingly slimy. I was ready to throw the damn thing out the window.

“They may be similar, but they’re not exactly the same. And this one, mine, it may work right, but it looks defective. I don’t want something so ugly.”

At that moment, Stacy came rushing into the apartment. And she looked furious.

I dropped my arm, the drill falling to my side. “Stacy, what—”

“I’m not fucking defective, you bas-stahrd.”

That word didn’t quite translate, though the images thrown by the communication core were enough to make me growl. “Bas-stahrd? Are you insulting my family?”

That only seemed to make her angrier. “No, dumbass. I’m insulting you.”

Macy appeared from the back bedroom, her eyes red and bleary from all the reading she seemed to be doing lately. “Stacy, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” My match huffed and spun, looking ready to attack her own sister. Even Hudson seemed on edge by her anger. “Nothing’s going on. I’ve just had enough of trying to fit in around here.”

Macy glanced at her mate, shaking her head a little when he scowled at Stacy. “What are you talking about?”

“This. All of this. I was supposed to get a match like Hudson, but instead, I get this jackass.”

My brow went tight, my chest aching. “I’m not a jackass.”

Macy’s eyes darted my way, looking almost apologetic. “Stace, maybe you should—”

“No. Don’t tell me what to do. Maybe you should worry about your own man and how he’s just another guy who sees us as commodities instead of human beings.”

“I don’t understand,” Macy said.

“Oh, that’s right. It’s just me. You’re the blessed Macy. The perfect one. I’m the one who’s apparently defective and up for trade.”

Macy’s eyes went wide, and Hudson responded to her obvious distress with a warning growl aimed at her sister. I stepped between them, just in case. There was no way I’d let him put a hand on Stacy, no matter what words came out of her mouth.

But at the same time, I’d heard enough. “Why don’t you calm down so we can figure this out?”

Stacy’s mask locked into place, her anger almost palpable. “Stand still, look pretty? Is that what you need from me to find me attractive? What, I’m too dumb to know what’s going on?”

She’d lost her mind. “I never said any of that.”

Stacy headed for the door, her eyes leaking and her face red. “Fuck off, Maverick. I thought you’d be different being as you’re not even human, but apparently, men are the same no matter where they come from.”

“Stacy, wait.” I rushed after her, but she slammed the door in my face.

My match, my potential mate, had walked out on me in a fury.

Stacy was gone, and I was still holding a defective drill without any clue what had just happened.