It should be weird I feel that way. I’m too logical for it. But my mind can’t think of any other way to describe what we have between us.
“Court…” I whisper. I don’t know why, because it isn’t like I have anything to say. But I want his name on my lips, to see his gorgeous eyes seeking mine.
My phone rings, shattering the moment. I pick it up, wondering if it’s Dad calling to say he was wrong and to congratulate me on my new job.
But no. It’s actually OWM’s Human Resources department. They want to know when I can start and tell me what I need to bring on my first day.
I close my eyes and tell them I’d love to start next Monday. The weight of Court’s gaze bores into my cheek. Part of me is relieved I don’t have to examine what I was feeling just moments ago too deeply, but another part of me is disappointed I’m being such a chickenshit.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Pascal
The restaurant Curie picked is new, and neither Court nor I have been to it before. Just like her to know all the new places, though.
Being a social media addict and an influencer keeps her in the loop.
The music is cheery, Spanish lyrics soaring over rapid guitar chords. The restaurant smells of lime, cilantro, flour tortillas and sizzling meat. Court and I are early, so we go to the bar to order a drink—a margarita for me and a bottle of beer for him.
Over the rim of my glass, I study Court. He changed into a simple shirt and shorts. His broad shoulders and biceps flex and move as he brings the beer to his gorgeous mouth with surprisingly soft lips. I can’t decide which I like more—him in his dressier outfit or something this casual and relaxed. He’s hot either way. He also looks great naked, too, although that would be illegal in public, even for him.
“What?” he says as though he feels my gaze.
“Nothing. Just thinking you look pretty.”
He frowns, although a small dimple appears on his cheek as he tries to suppress a smile and fails. “Pretty is the word for you, not me.”
“Really?” Most people—including myself—would usually use a word like “smart” or “nerdy.” “Pretty” is for Curie, and I’ve always thought of us that way, too, even though we’re twins.
“Uh-huh. You’re gorgeous in that dress.”
I flush. I insisted on getting my car from OWM and going to my place to change before coming here. I wanted to freshen up and put on a magenta dress I got last year because it’s one of the hottest outfits I own. I didn’t want to look like I just wrapped up a job interview, when I know Curie’s going to pop up in some cute clothes herself.
She’s always perfectly made up and dressed, ready for a selfie or two at any time. I don’t usually care about that sort of thing—we aren’t in a competition or anything—but I still don’t want to appear too shabby and sloppy next to her. So weird that I care so much all of a sudden. I never did until now.
My gaze darts to Court. Is it because I don’t want him to think I’m less pretty than Curie? Or wondering how I measure up, looks-wise, to his exes? His opinion is becoming so important—maybe too important—to me.
The door opens, and Curie and Joe walk in together, their arms linked. As I expected, a fresh coat of powder covers her face, and she’s in a pretty lavender dress. Joe is in an Avengers shirt and faded jeans, probably having just returned from a photo shoot. He’s super busy these days.
“Sorry, we’re late,” she says, giving me a hug. She always says that when she isn’t the first to arrive.
“You’re on time. We were early.” I hug her, then Joe. Since she wants Court here and I want whatever awkwardness—if any—to be resolved as soon as possible, I say, “So, this is Court. Court, Curie and Joe.”
“I know who he is.” Joe narrows his eyes and purses his mouth in an exaggerated expression of anger.
“Do I need to start running?” Court says lightly.
Curie elbows Joe in the side. “Oh, stop. You thought it was funny.”
Joe’s face relaxes into a grin. “Yeah, I did.” He pauses. “Afterwards.”
“Well then. I’m glad there are no hard feelings,” Court says, this time earnestly. And the two men shake hands.
“I was stunned, but really, it was kind of sweet of you to chase her all the way to Hawaii.” Curie smiles. “Besides, the only people who make me hold a grudge are ones who hurt Pascal. Fair warning.”
“Oh, come on.” I love my twin, but she can be overprotective. Besides, I can’t ever imagine Court hurting me.
“Well, it’s true.” Curie makes a fork with her index and middle fingers and does the “my eyes, your eyes” gesture at Court.