Mister Wrong

by Nicole Williams

  “Jacob, enough.” Without warning, I elbowed him in the stomach as hard as I could. Which wasn’t all that hard since he had me pinned so tightly against the wall. Still, it sent him back a few steps so I could turn around and back away.

  One hand was covering his stomach where I’d just elbowed him, his light eyes so dark they couldn’t have possibly still been blue. “This is about him, isn’t it? You let that fucker touch you and make you feel good, and now you can’t stand a real man’s touch anymore?”

  My mouth fell open. “Jacob—”

  “You got your wish, didn’t you? You finally got a chance to see what my brother was like in bed. Was it good? Could he make you feel better than me? Did you like the feel of his cock in your mouth better than mine?”

  “That is enough!” I hadn’t meant to shout—we’d probably already gotten all of this floor’s attention already—but I couldn’t help it. “How dare you turn this around on me! You were the one who started this whole sequence of events. Matt was the one who stepped in to try to help, and here you are, accusing me like I planned all of this.”

  Jacob’s chest was rising and falling quickly, his shirt twisted and his eyes wild. “So you did fuck him?”

  My eyes narrowed. That was all he cared about. If I did or didn’t sleep with his twin brother. “I’m not having this conversation with you when you’ve been drinking. So sober up and come find me. Then we can talk.”

  I’d been planning to head back to my room to change since Jacob had suggested going on a walk to talk, but now that that talk wasn’t going to happen, I wasn’t going anywhere close to my room. Not with Jacob looking at me the way he was now—like he couldn’t decide if he’d rather hit me or screw me.

  “Where are you going?” His voice was quieter, the notes of anger gone.

  “Out.” I was halfway back to the elevators.

  Punching the down button, I kept checking down the hall to make sure he wasn’t coming after me. He wasn’t. He was frozen to the wall where he’d staggered back, his head hanging and his expression blank.

  His head lifted, his eyes finding mine. “I love you.”

  I glanced away. I knew from experience I caved whenever he became the brooding, self-loathing version he was evolving into now. “Then start showing it.”

  The elevator doors opened right then, and I lunged inside, punching the first floor button. After the doors closed, I undid my heels and took them off. I was still planning on going for a walk—alone. I needed to figure out what was going on. Inside my head. Inside my heart. I needed to, once and for all, confront the feelings I had for them both and decide who I belonged with, if either of them.

  If either of them even wanted me when all was said and done, because I couldn’t be with Jacob without telling him about Matt. And I couldn’t be with Matt without confronting the reality that I’d been with his brother for years.

  When the doors opened on the first floor, I slipped out and left through one of the side hotel doors that put me closest to the beach. Sand between my toes, ocean waves crashing beside me—it sounded like the perfect way to work out years of repressed feelings.

  I loved Jacob. I knew that. But I wasn’t sure it was the kind of love that one should have for the person they planned to spend their whole life with. I loved the person he was when he wasn’t drinking, and I had come to fear who he was when he had been.

  It was quiet everywhere tonight; that probably had to do with the storm coming. Or possibly coming, because no one seemed to know for sure if it would hit us or not. The lack of a crowd made for that much better of a walk. I needed time alone with my thoughts to attempt to untangle the web I’d spun in the years since I’d met the Adams brothers. I was no longer sure who I felt what for, that’s how interwoven they’d become.

  Only a few steps onto the beach, I recognized a familiar laugh. Instantly, I felt my smile forming and all of the heaviness inside me start to lift.

  Matt. He was close by. Maybe I could talk this whole mess out with him and he could provide some clarity. For years I’d gone to him when I needed someone to talk to, although this might not be the ideal topic to discuss with him since it had to do with him. And my feelings for him.

  My feet moved faster. I could no longer hear his laughter, but I felt his presence. Up ahead, the hotel’s beach bar was glowing, but unlike earlier today, it was mostly empty. A handful of people were scattered around at the stools, but all I saw was him. It was kind of amusing to see Matt pressed up against the counter of some cheesy beach bar—so not his scene—but that was when I noticed he wasn’t alone.

  Not alone at all.

  There was a woman on the stool next to him, but really, she was as close to him as she could get before she was on his lap. My feet stopped moving as an ache spread from my chest. Her hands were all over him, and he was doing nothing to push her away. Her head was close to his, and the two of them looked at each other in a way . . . that I was not going to let myself think about.

  Between them on the counter was a half-empty bottle of something, and after Matt poured some of it into his glass, he slid it in front of her. She drained it in one drink, her eyebrow lifting at him right after.

  I didn’t see what happened next. I couldn’t stay to watch. Instead, I turned and ran in the opposite direction, as quickly as I could in the soft sand while wearing a dress not designed for jogging.

  It wasn’t until I tasted the saltiness on my lips that I realized I’d started crying. Over what I’d seen, over what was about to happen, over this whole damn mess.

  I shouldn’t even be so upset that I’d just caught him with some other woman—I had no claim to him. We were friends. He’d done what he had at the wedding because of that. He’d done what we had that night because we’d both been tipsy, I’d been all over him, and he was a red-blooded man. I might have thought he was Jacob . . . but now I wasn’t even so sure of that.

  Did I really believe last night that he was Jacob? Or did I know the truth inside me?

  Even that I couldn’t make sense of anymore.

  Facing the fact that I felt like I didn’t know a goddamned thing anymore brought on a fresh flood of tears that dropped me to the sand. I was tired of running. Tired of burying my feelings.

  I wasn’t taking another step until I confronted the harshest reality of all—was I in love with Jacob or his brother?

  The next morning was painful. I had a whole new respect for the hangover and how clear liquid could make a person feel like their brain was about to start liquefying out their ears.

  I awoke with a groan, reaching for the bottle of aspirin I kept on my nightstand. Except it wasn’t there . . . because I wasn’t in my condo in Miami. I was on St. Thomas. On my brother’s and Cora’s honeymoon.

  My head pulsed harder with that reminder.

  Cora.

  How could one woman invoke so much pain, and at the same time so much joy, when I thought about her? It didn’t seem possible, but I knew better. I had countless years of evidence proving it.

  “What in the hell were you thinking?”

  The voice was guarded and controlled, coming from the side of the room. I’d known it wouldn’t take long for my brother to confront me, but it could have come at a better time. Like when I didn’t feel like each verbalized word was sticking another pin in the cushion that was my corneal matter.

  Forcing my eyes to open, I found him leaning into the wall across from me, arms crossed, dark hollows beneath his eyes.

  “I was thinking about Cora.”

  His chest puffed out when he exhaled. “You were thinking about yourself.”

  “Fuck off.” I wasn’t in the mood for my brother’s accusations, not since he was the first domino that sent the whole carefully constructed maze tumbling down.

  “Speaking of fucking . . .” Jacob shoved off the wall, moving a few steps toward the bed. I didn’t miss the way he inspected it, like he was half expecting to find Cora naked and sprawled out beside me. “Did y
ou?” He sniffed. “With Cora?”

  “And good morning to you too, brother. Nice to see you.” I rolled over onto my back and attempted to sit up. I hated vodka. I was never coming within arm’s reach of it again. Ever. “I make it a habit not to have long, drawn-out conversations with a hangover, so you’re just going to have to ask Cora if you need an answer to that right this second.”

  I tried to keep my affect flat, giving nothing away. Why was he asking me? Shouldn’t he know either way, whatever she’d decided to tell him, by now? I couldn’t imagine it wasn’t the first thing he’d wanted to know last night when he confronted her.

  “I tried asking her. She wouldn’t say a damn thing about it.”

  When Jacob moved closer, I could see he was still in the same clothes from last night. They weren’t as fresh and pressed-looking as they’d been, and I didn’t want to think why that was. I didn’t want to consider why it looked like he’d gotten no sleep either. There was only so much a man could take, and my limit had been reached last night when I’d watched her run into his arms again, for the millionth damn time, when my arms were just as open and willing.

  “Too busy making up?” My voice took on a sharp edge as I sat up a little higher, propping the pillow behind me.

  “Maybe,” Jacob answered instantly, but then he turned to look out the window. Thank god it was overcast, because sunlight would not be my friend at the moment.

  “Maybe you made up?” I asked, unable to help it. There were two ways a couple could make up, and I knew there was only one way where Jacob was concerned. I needed to know what, if anything, had been said last night before . . . the other making up happened.

  “Barely,” he admitted, his arms bracing against the wall as he stared out the window absently. I wasn’t used to seeing Jacob like this—lost, unsure. That was more the look I carried around. “She barely let me touch her, couldn’t stand to have me close. Which is a first.” His head turned, accusation darkening his eyes. “So something’s up. You said something. Or you did something.” He was quiet a moment, like he was giving me a chance to speak up, but it didn’t last long. “I know you’ve had a thing for her forever. Finally made your move—by pretending to be me. Genius plan there, Matt. But you’re the brains in the family, right?”

  Forcing myself to take a breath, my hands curling into the sheets. “Let me remind you, MIA Groom, that the whole reason I did what I did was to save your ass.”

  “More like you were trying to get the piece of ass you’ve been wanting since puberty.”

  My jaw ground together. “That’s Cora you’re talking about. Watch it.”

  Jacob pushed off the wall, turning from the window. “Yeah, and she’s mine to defend. Not yours.”

  “Thanks for the brotherly reminder.” My hand ran through my hair. It felt like half of it was plastered to my head from how I’d been sleeping.

  Something on my hand caught Jacob’s eye. “That’s my ring. I want it.” His eyes narrowed further the longer he looked at it on my finger.

  “And you can have it once you tell Cora what you were doing that kept you detained from your wedding.” My left hand curled into a fist. The ring had only been there a couple of days, and already it felt like it belonged there. Even though I knew it wasn’t mine.

  Jacob’s face changed color, but he stayed where he was. I’d expected him to charge me, to try to rip the damn ring from my finger when I didn’t willingly give it back, but he wasn’t moving. Which was lucky for me, since I wasn’t in the best condition to hold my own against my brother—not that he looked much better.

  “I want it, Matt.”

  “And I will happily hand it over once you explain to her why you missed your own damn wedding, Jacob.”

  His arms folded over his chest as he paced. He was still managing to hold back, which had never been a characteristic my brother was known for. “I need to know. I need to know if you slept with her. No more of this ‘ask her’ bullshit. You’re my brother. You look me in the eye and tell me either way.”

  Well at least he’d moved on from the wedding ring—not that this subject was any less dangerous.

  “And she needs to know what you were doing that night before and the day of the wedding.” I reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, guessing Maggie was responsible for it. I didn’t remember much from last night—half a bottle of vodka would do that to a person—but she must have gotten my drunk ass back here somehow and left a glass of water for me for when I eventually woke up and realized I wanted to die.

  Jacob was pacing, looking like a wild animal who’d just been caged. This was when he was most dangerous—when he felt trapped, cornered, and didn’t have the upper hand.

  Instead of backing off as I had before, I kept pressing on. “Tell her. You be honest with her, and she’ll be honest with you.”

  His head shook. “I was hungover off my ass that next morning. You remember. We were drinking like crazy that night, my last one as a bachelor. I was lucky I woke up at all with all the booze you let me down.” He didn’t look at me; he just kept pacing. He didn’t look at me because he knew better—I wasn’t the person to blame for his excessive drinking.

  “Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to her. I know, Jacob. I know.” I finished the whole cup of water, hoping it might dull the anger coursing through me. It only seemed to make it worse.

  “You know jack shit.”

  “You know jack shit if you chose that girl from the bar, any girl from any fucking place in the world, over the one you already had.” My hands were squeezing the glass so hard, I was surprised it didn’t break. “You know jack shit, because you had it all. You had everything, and you threw it all away for nothing.”

  He stopped moving, his head turning toward me. “I still have everything. I still have her. I didn’t lose anything. I didn’t throw away anything. Cora still belongs to me.” He drove his fist into his chest, the vein running down his forehead bursting through his skin.

  “I didn’t realize she was something to own.” My voice was a stark contrast to his—tamed where his was wild. “Who were you with that night?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  My brow lifted at him. “Maybe not, but it is hers.”

  Jacob picked up his pacing. He was acting erratic, unsure, not at all how I was used to seeing my brother. This whole thing had undone him as much as it had me. Turned him into someone else.

  “You better not tell her. You better not say a fucking word.”

  “Then you’d better tell her. Soon.” My gaze wandered out the window now that my eyes had semi-adjusted. The sky was every shade of gray in the spectrum, the ocean so dark it looked black. The palm leaves were shuddering in the wind, and I couldn’t see a single soul on the beach. The storm didn’t seem to be moving in another direction or dissolving. “Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  I exhaled, guessing that was a question my brother needed clarified. “Cora. Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. She wouldn’t answer her phone. Wasn’t in her hotel room when I stopped by earlier.”

  I was in the middle of coaxing my body out of bed when I froze. “Her hotel room? As in, you had a different one?”

  Jacob snorted, tying his hands behind his neck as he continued pacing. “Yeah, not exactly what I had in mind, but I had to sleep somewhere. Her room door was as sealed shut as her legs last night.”

  At the same time I wanted to punch him for talking about her like that, I kind of wanted to kiss him too. They hadn’t slept together—they hadn’t even slept in the same room. All because of her. Why hadn’t she let Jacob in? Why hadn’t she let him close like she had so many times before when he’d messed up and apologized?

  I was a damn fool to think it had anything to do with me, but what other explanation was there? Why else would she not let the man she’d promised to marry into her room last night? Yeah, she had a reason to be seriously pissed about the wedding fiasco, but was there more?
>
  Was I the more?

  The only way to know for sure was to find her.

  Sliding out of bed, I pushed through the hangover and jogged into the bathroom to crank on the shower. I smelled terrible and figured Cora had enough experience with Jacob showing up smelling like death warmed over from a night of drinking—she didn’t need me showing up the same way.

  “There’s a storm coming, and instead of looking for Cora, you’re here getting in my face?” I asked.

  I pulled a bottle of water out of the mini fridge just outside the bathroom and tossed it at Jacob. He needed to sober up and, from the looks of him, take a shower too. No matter what went down today, we were all going to be truthful with each other. Once and for all. No more lies. No more deceit. The truth.

  I wasn’t sure if that would mean I’d lose her and my brother in the same day, but was keeping them close with lies so much better?

  “Hey, for the record?” Jacob’s voice was muffled by the sound of the shower as I crawled inside. “I don’t think you did it. I don’t believe you could do that kind of thing to me . . . but I just need to hear one of you say it. You know?”

  We were both quiet long enough for me to drop my head in the shower and feel like a total piece of shit for sleeping with the woman he claimed to love. Jacob might have done some nasty things to me, but he’d never gone so far as to sleep with the girl I was with. Not that he’d had many opportunities to do so.

  “I know the feeling,” I whispered, letting the hot water beat down my back as I tried to figure out what was right and what was wrong.

  I wondered if there was any such thing as right anymore. I knew it was wrong for me to love Cora, but just the same, it was the most right thing I’d ever felt.

  When I hopped out of the shower a couple minutes later, Jacob was gone. I wasn’t sure if he’d gone back to his hotel room or out to search for Cora or more in search of a drink, but he was gone.