Page 96 of Stolen Summer
“And shouldn’t I be?” A spot of darkness gleamed in his eyes, and after what we just shared, I wasn’t ready to see this softer side of him disappear so quickly. “I didn’t hear you complaining,” I fired back. “In fact, unless my ears were mistaken, you very much enjoyed me interrupting your mope-fest.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Is that so? And for your information, I wasn’t moping.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered.
“Maybe we should try it again. I’m sure we can do better the second time.”
My lips twitched. His suggestion had quite the hype to live up to considering my orgasm had been the damn best thing I’d ever experienced. But fuck me if I wasn’t game to try.
He accurately read the glint in my eyes and reached for me, tugging me onto his lap. His lips dipped toward my neck, grazing my skin. I leaned into him, tilting my head for better access, because I wanted his lips on me. Now. When his mouth didn’t press to the column of my throat a second time, I started to pull back.
“Hey, Crew, I know we?—”
Cole stiffened.
My gaze lifted, locking on Cole’s for a second. Long enough to see his expression turn tormented and sad.
I swallowed as I looked over my shoulder at who I assumed would be Brody, but the person standing in the doorway wasn’t the eldest Riley.
What the fuck?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Iblinked.
Surely, I’m hallucinating.
Shock lanced through me. “Cole?” I whispered, but I couldn’t be staring at him because I sat on his lap.
Confusion muddled my mind, and a dull ache formed at my temples.
If Cole stood across the room and Cole also sat underneath me…
Huh?
There are two Coles?
Something wasn’t fucking adding up.
Am I drunk? Did someone slip a drug into my drink that was making me see shit? Was Gianna here? Had she done it?
The questions and doubts tumbled in one after the other, overloading my brain. I just stared with uncertainty.
He looked like Cole. Spitting fucking image actually. It was like I glanced into a mirror and saw Cole’s reflection staring back at me.
And yet, he wasn’t naked on the bed but dressed in khaki shorts and a polo, as if he’d just come off the golf course, with a familiar boyish grin curling on his lips. “Hey, Quinn.”
I choked. That voice. It was so damn similar but lighter and perhaps less serious. “What the fuck is going on?” I asked, my gaze volleying between the two identical guys.
The Cole in the doorway leaned a shoulder against the frame. “I can see you’ve been busy. I’m a little disappointed it’s not me in bed with you, but Crew and I’ve been down that road before, haven’t we, bro? What happened to our agreement?”
What fucking agreement?
But the question would have to wait because my mind got hung up on the mention of Crew.
“Cole,” the guy underneath me growled. I felt the vibrations of his chest. His eyes turned into a swirling storm as he glowered at his brother, harsh lines forming on his lips.
Crew. The Cole in the doorway had called the one in bed with me Crew.