Casually, I push open Emerson and Jagger’s front door. Slightly ajar, I figure they’re inside busy settling in and setting up their new place. After spending all of yesterday packing and unloading both of their belongings from their separate houses, they’re finally taking the next step.

A quick look around shows there’s no one in sight. “Honey, I’m home,” I call out into the empty space.

From behind the kitchen counter, a messy bun of blonde hair pops up, a familiar face attached. Nude, glossy, full lips pull up into a come-hither smile. Placing her hands on the Caesar stone counter, she leans forward. Pressing her breasts together, her cleavage peeks out from the top of her loose tank. My eyes flicker between the glimmer of mischief in her gaze and her perfectly situated body.

A low whistle echoes throughout the room. “Well if it isn’t sexy twin number two. Honey is home, and she would love a kiss.”

My head shakes in disbelief as my chest rumbles with laughter. “The name’s Hendrix.”

“Oh, I know your name, but I like my name for you better.”

Taylah is Emerson's best friend. Forced together a few times, all of our previous meetings have been fleeting, and filled with Emerson and Jagger drama. As first impressions go, she’s loud, outspoken and unapologetically unfiltered.

She walks around the bench, and the full length of her body comes into view. Her black jeans grip her body tight, accentuating every curve perfectly. Her tank is shorter in the front showing off her porcelain midriff, and I kick myself for being too self-centred to notice what a delectable package she is.

Lifting herself up on the edge of the kitchen bench, she crosses her legs, and leans back on her hands, like she’s waiting for me.

I oblige.

It’s probably been nine or ten months since I’ve seen her, but this definitely feels like the first time. I’m not sure if it’s because the environment is different, and the interaction isn’t fuelled with tension, but I’m finding it difficult to keep my eyes focused on only her face. Stepping forward, I make my way to her.

Taylah’s never hidden the fact she finds me attractive, and as my strides get wider and the distance between us shortens, I let the gorgeous girl with desire in her eyes inflate my ego.

Holding her seductive pose, she radiates confidence. My large frame envelops her, an arm on either side of her thighs; her expression refusing to waver at my closeness.

“So you’re still crazy, I see.”

The slightest hint of a dimple in her cheek appears as a small sensual smirk graces her face. “Me?” she questions dramatically, pressing her hand to the middle of her chest.

I raise an eyebrow at her antics, and she leans forward, bringing her mouth closer to my ear. “I prefer pandemonium in the flesh.”

Her voice, those words, they travel straight to my dick. She knows what she wants, and after years of indecision, is there anything sexier than a woman who owns everything she is and makes you want it? “How about this?” I pull back and let my fingers discreetly graze her covered thighs. Her eyes follow the trail before we both look up at one another cravingly. “You can call me sexy twin, and I’ll call you crazy.”

“If you fuck as good as you look, you can call me anything.”

She continues to stun me into silence. I have had my fair share of women throw themselves at me, but this isn’t like that. It’s not fake or attention seeking. There’s no playing hard to get, mixed signals, or a worry about consequences. “Do you mean it, or do you say that shit for shock value?”

“Ha. There’s always shock value, but it isn’t intentional, it’s just who I am.”

“So, you want to fuck?” I study her face as the last word leaves my mouth, looking for a sliver of doubt or surprise, but she doesn’t miss a beat.

“Are you offering?”

“Umm, should we come back?” Emerson’s high-pitched voice breaks the spell, and we both turn to see her and Jagger in the doorway.

“If you don’t mind us christening your house before you do, then yes, come back in a couple of hours,” Taylah’s responding to Emerson, but her eyes don’t leave mine, and her smart mouth moves just for me.

“Hours?” Jagger scoffs. “Drix can’t last that long.” Straightening up, I turn away from Taylah and look at the two amused faces staring at us. Taking a deep breath, I give myself a small window of reprieve. A moment where I’m not thinking about taking her up on her offer and imagining us fucking in every room of Jagger’s new place.

“Fuck you,” I jest.

“While this thing between you all” —Emerson’s hands gesture between the three of us— “us very entertaining, can you continue it later? The four of us are going to IKEA.”

“Really, Em? You know that place scares me.” Taylah hops off the kitchen counter, walks around me and plops her body on a piece of the dismantled couch. “You can only enter and exit one way. What’s their fire safety plan, huh?”

“Don’t worry Taylah, Drix will carry you,” Jagger goads.

She looks up at me and bats her eyelashes. “Promise?”

Rolling my eyes, I stick my hand out for her to hold. “Come on, stop being so dramatic. There won’t be a fire.”

“I can’t help it.” She takes my hand. “Crazy and drama are cousins. And since—”

“You’re crazy. I get it.” I catch Jagger grinning like a smart arse, and I flip him the bird knowing very well what he’s thinking. “Let’s go,” I say to nobody in particular. “I’m driving.”

“Shotgun,” Taylah shouts.

Yep. She’s fucking crazy.

“Babe, do we really need two of these trolleys?” Jagger asks Emerson, pushing one in my direction and grabbing another one for himself.

“Yes, we need the extra one for Dakota’s room. I want to make sure she has all the necessities before she comes over.”

“She’s coming over tomorrow.”

“I know, so we better get cracking.”

I mimic a whip hitting the ground in my brother’s direction, getting him back for his joke earlier. He sticks his finger up at me and I laugh at how lucky I am to have this back with him. I’m comforted that time and age don’t matter, he’ll always be my brother and we’ll always be in one another’s life, no matter what the world throws our way.”

The flatbed trolley jostles underneath my hands, and I see Taylah sitting right in the middle of it. Legs crossed, comfy as fuck. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting,” she responds casually. “This is the only way I’m going to feel safe. If there’s a fire, you’ll just mow everyone down with the trolley while running to get us out.”

“You’re serious?”

“Come on sexy twin number two, you know you want to.”

“Only if you drop the number two. I’m the only sexy twin.”

“But you’re identical,” she challenges.

“You wanna ride with me or not, Crazy?”

She smiles. No sarcasm, no seduction, just a genuine smile that lights up her whole face. “Well then, sexy, let’s go spend Emerson and Jagger’s money.”

We follow Jagger and Emerson who are arm in arm, constantly looking up at one another, and kissing each other whenever they can, like the thought of not touching for even a moment is too hard to bear.

“They’re ridiculous but adorable, right?” Taylah interrupts my thoughts, the scene in front of us playing on both our minds.

“I wouldn’t call my brother adorable, but happiness suits him.”

She turns her whole body, so she’s facing me, her back to the rest of the store. “I can’t imagine not seeing my brother or sister for that long.”

“You have siblings?”

“No. Emerson is the closest thing I have to a sister and if I don’t talk to her once a day, my day doesn’t feel complete.”

Twelve years without my brother by my side, was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever lived through, but I don’t say it out loud. That’s not who I am. I let others share their weight and burdens, but I don’t share mine. I take what I’ve been given, and do with it what I can.

When Jagger went to prison, I learned the hard way what alone really meant. Doing the right thing by him meant I sacrificed a lot of me. He’s my brother, I have no regrets, but while Jagger might have been missing out on life behind bars, I was out, free, and feeling as locked up as he was.

“You and Emerson that close, huh?” I ask, changing the subject.

“That close and then some. Before your boy here took up all her time, we were inseparable.”

“Does that bother you?”

“What? That he takes up all her time?”

I nod, answering her question.

“Fuck, no. Look how happy she is.” We both stop and watch them laughing at one another while they look at different bookshelves. Taylah brings her focus back to me, our eyes back on one another. “You’re not the only one who can be selfless, Sexy.”

“She’s going to love the way you’ve set up this room for her.” Jagger and I are finishing off setting up the last piece of furniture in Dakota’s new room. Accompanying her new bed, there’s a bookshelf, a desk, and a huge cork board that she can use to stick all her photos up on. It’s missing her personal touch, but I know once she sees it, she’ll do everything she can to make it her second home.

“I just want her to know wherever I go, she goes.”

“You’ve been doing a great job, bro. She loves you.”

“I still can’t believe I have all this. I’m out and here with you, and Em and Dakota. It’s almost been a year and it still feels like a dream.”

“It’s real. You’ve earned every bit of happiness you have. And this isn’t the end, more will be coming your way.”

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Even though I think you’re wrong, it doesn’t matter because you’re here. Right now. And that’s what’s most important.”

A knock on the door sounds before Taylah’s head pops in. “You guys down for pizza and beer or Chinese and beer?”

“Pizza and beer,” Jagger and I respond in unison.

“God, how often do you two practice that?” she asks before walking out and shutting the door behind her.

Scanning the floor, I pick up loose plastic, nuts, bolts and whatever tools we used to assemble the furniture.

“So, you and Taylah, huh?”

“Me and Taylah?”

He punches me in the arm. “You were about to fuck her on my kitchen bench.”

I smirk thinking about it. He’s on the money, if we were alone any longer it probably would’ve happened. She was there. Sexy as hell, and willing. “What does it matter? It’s not like I’m marrying the girl.”

“Just remember she’s Emerson’s friend,” he says, his voice serious, a complete change from the jokester he was seconds before.

“And?” We share a brain, I always know what’s coming next, but I’m playing dumb. Purposefully leaving no room for misunderstanding, I want him to spell out whatever his problem is.

“Have fun but don’t let it get messy.”

“Messy how?”

“She’s Emerson’s friend and I don’t want it to be awkward if you fuck her and run.”

I clench my jaw in frustration, reminiscing about my time away when I didn’t have to explain anything to anyone or worry about anything but myself. Moments like this, I wish I was still there. “While it’s none of your business and hasn’t been for a very long time, have you met Taylah? You think she’s the type to let any guy treat her less than she deserves?”

“She’d probably cut your dick off.”

“Exactly. I thank you for your concern, but I’m just going to do us all a favour and not go there. I don’t need to end up in this situation with you.”

“What situation?”

“The one where every woman that spends longer than two minutes in my presence is somehow attached to you and your life.”

“I—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jagger.” I stand and scan the room, making sure the mess around us is cleared. “Forget I said anything.” With my hands full, I make my way to the door. “Let’s go drink beer.”

“Drix.”

“No. Beer. Please.”

We step outside, one after the other, and the tension follows each of our steps. Emerson and Taylah’s voices become quieter, acknowledging the change between us. The air thickens and I don’t have it in me to make it better and play nice. “I’m just going to chuck all this shit in the bin outside.”

“Drix,” Jagger calls out after me.

I flip open the lids of the two bins by the side of the house, separating the shit in my hands between them.

“Drix,” he repeats, his voice closer.

“I said drop it, Jagger.”

“I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. It’s your life.”

Ignoring him, I head back inside. I grab my keys from the coffee table as I hear him call for me again.

“Hey Sexy, you want to come pick up the pizza with me?” Taylah’s standing there, her hands on her hips, her gaze, all-knowing. The strain between Jagger and I is obvious, and for whatever reason, she’s trying to fix it. “Come on,” she urges. “I didn’t get to show off my singing skills the last time I was in your car.”

I exhale in defeat. It’s unfair to take it out on her. For the sake of her efforts and not wanting to be the one to fuck up a time where my brother should be happy and proud. I tilt my head to the door, and in complete understanding, she follows.

I hit the unlock button on my car remote, and we both climb in on either side. Pushing my foot on the brake, I press the keyless ignition and wait for the car to start. From the corner of my eye, I see Taylah fiddling with the car control screen. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Drive to the pizza store. I got this,” she demands.

Reversing out of the driveway, I throw a few glances her way as she concentrates intently on whatever it is she’s doing. Soon enough she relaxes into the seat, and Tupac’s “California Love” plays through the car.

“Is this the right song?”

She hits pause on her phone. “What? You don’t know girls that like Pac.”

I open my mouth and close it even quicker. I’m tongue tied, something that seems to happen often around Taylah. I shake my head and try and focus back on the drive.

Satisfied with my lack of response, she presses play and the well-known music picks back up.

Words from the first verse fall off her tongue with ease and conviction, like she’s done this a million times. Her upper body starts to move, her movements matching the beat. She’s dancing on the spot, living in this very moment.

I stop the car at the traffic light, and she twists to face me. She raps the whole second verse, watching me watch her, and never falters. The passenger window begins to slide down, and she starts singing into traffic.

With her back to me, I smile. Big. Impressed. Relaxed. The knots in my body from earlier begin to loosen, and the whole incident with Jagger is shoved to the back of my mind. The only thing I’m interested in, is what song she’s going to sing and dance to next.

She’s in her own world, and I’m nothing but a spectator.

Yep, she’s fucking crazy.