by Ivy Fox
“Don’t even sweat it, Holland. I’m used to our Candy’s sex-crazed candor. I’ve told her plenty of times I could be useful where her fantasies are concerned. What do you say, Candy? I can bend you over this kitchen counter right now and have you screaming my name in ten seconds flat. You know I’m good for it.” He winks playfully at her.
Candy rolls her eyes, and crosses her arms under her chest, drawing Xavier’s lust-filled eyes straight to her impressively large breasts—a strategic move I’ve seen her do around him countless times.
“I don’t do repeats, Xavi. You were a one-and-done deal. Just stick with what you’re truly good at and hand me my order for table ten,” she replies with a stale tone, feigning boredom.
With a sly smirk plastered on his tanned, handsome face, he places two plates of The Shack’s breakfast special on the windowsill counter and rings the small, silver bell to the side.
“Order up,” he mocks, knowing full well that Candy will have to leave the kitchen, walk all the way down to the end of the counter to the open window and grab her customers’ order.
“You’re a real dick, you know that?” she quips, her hands placed on her curvy hips.
“Oh, I know, baby, and whenever you want a piece of it again, I’ll be here to satisfy your every need.” He laughs, rubbing his thumb on his lower lip seductively.
“Asshole,” Candy replies, slanting her eyes at him with a disgruntled sneer.
She turns around, heading for the door, but then stops just behind me to whisper in my ear.
“Forget the water and get your butt outside, Holland. Your fine-ass twins are here, and they look thirsty as fuck. Better get to them quick, babe, or those cougars outside are gonna eat them up.” She smiles teasingly, nudging me this time on my hip.
I want to make fun of her cougar comment since this morning most of the clientele here were my grandmother’s age, but all the words fly away with the knowledge of Ollie and Ash having finally arrived. This is the best part of my summer—when the Fourth of July weekend arrives and my guys come back to me. They’re the real reason why I could never let go of my waitressing job at The Shack. This is the place where I met them, where I got to know them, and maybe even where I fell in love with them.
I take one cautious step to the door and see for myself what my eyes have excruciatingly gone without for the past ten months. Sure, FaceTime helped and all, but seeing them through a phone screen isn’t quite the same as seeing them in living color.
My mouth goes dry, and my heart starts beating maniacally when I see the twins sitting in a corner booth, looking just as mouthwatering as Candy described. Ollie—with his wavy, light-brown hair almost touching his black-rimmed glasses, which only makes his hazel eyes pop even more—is my Achilles heel. The gorgeous chestnut stream, swimming in a river of green is enough to make any girl swoon. But then add his trademark hipster glasses and honest smile, and I’m a freaking puddle on the floor.
As usual, he’s wearing a vintage band T-shirt, broadcasting his love of music, new and old—a love we bonded over right off the bat. The artistic vein in me is drawn to his vast musical knowledge and inclusive taste that varies from Mozart to The White Stripes and Lady Gaga. Whatever song moved him, made its way into my own collection. And every time I played any of his favorite songs, his gorgeous face was always brought to the forefront of my mind.
Right across from him, with all his swagger and cool, with both arms spread wide on the back of the red vinyl bench, sits his fraternal twin and complete opposite, Ash. Where Ollie’s soft grin inspires trust and warmth, Ash’s sly smirk is just devious temptation. His dark good looks spell trouble from a mile away, and the glimmer of danger in his eyes was what made me keep him at arm’s length when we met. But just like his twin, Ash broke through my walls with his huge heart, albeit unintentionally.
While I was smitten with Ollie right from the get-go, it was the way Ash showed his softer side through his texts that won me over. He exudes a bad boy persona, but for all his wicked words and devilish mind, he cares more than he likes to let on. A fact that, over the last two years, I was able to establish for myself, making my own depraved heart greedy of his every kind word and seductive tongue.
I look down at my coffee-stained T-shirt, plain shorts, and white Chucks, and reprimand myself for not having made a bigger effort this morning and spruce up my look. Of course, if they had given me the heads up that they’d arrive earlier, I wouldn’t be looking like a hot mess right now.
Sometimes I wonder what they saw in me in the first place, but that insecure feeling is quickly shoved to the back of my mind. All my self-doubt stems from years of solitude and social awkwardness—something the twins have no fault in. They see me for who I really am, or at least the side of me that I want to be real. To them, I’m just Holland—or their Snow, as they have christened me.
While I’m with them, I’m not the daughter of a woman who cares far more for her social standing than for her child’s well-being. I’m also not the girl whose father decided it was best to bow out of this world and leave her all alone to trudge on without the only parent she foolishly believed cared for her. And most importantly, I’m not the girl who is sick. All facts that neither Ollie nor Ash knows, nor do I intend to reveal. At least not until I sort my life out and have a better idea on how my future will look.
“Go on, darling. Doesn’t matter what you wear or how you look. Those boys have been coming in here every day just to be near you since their balls dropped. You could look like a fucking train wreck, and they would still have eyes only for you,” Xavier cajoles, reminding me of what my heart knows to be true.
“Thanks, Xavi.” I shyly smile back, wanting to return the favor and help him with his own insecurities. “Since we’re giving each other advice, friend to friend, if you showed Candy the same sweetness you show me all the time, I’m sure she’d reconsider your offer of taking her out,” I add, knowing full well Xavier is just as much into Candy as I am head over heels for my guys.
“You’re cute when you try to tone us down. I didn’t offer to take Candy out, darling. I offered to give her the fuck of a lifetime. It’s her loss if she’s not interested,” he counters, flipping three pancakes onto a plate, his unruly, brown curls dancing on his forehead, coming loose from his hair net.
He adds some fresh fruit and places the plate next to Candy’s order before ringing the bell once more. Through the door window, I watch my friend give Xavier the finger, as she walks to a table of newly arrived customers to grab their order, with a bright smile. Xavier chuckles and keeps his eyes lingering on her curves, while she’s oblivious to his ogling.
“You keep telling yourself that, Xavi. But Candy starts Brown in September, and she’s going to be meeting a lot of people in her freshman year. If you don’t give her some valid reason to come back next summer, she might not come back at all. This summer might be your last shot at sweeping her off her feet. If you don’t, I bet those college guys will,” I goad, hoping his alpha-like ego will be the thing that makes him man up and show Candy just how crazy he is about her.
“Quit busting my chops girl, and get out there. Your dark-haired boyfriend looked like he was two seconds away from jumping the counter and coming in here to pull you out by force. Go now! Scoot, before he makes a scene,” he insists, waving his spatula in the air.
I laugh at his insinuation that Ash would barge into the kitchen all caveman-like, so I hustle out, just in case Xavi is right. My eyes glance at the booth they were supposed to be sitting in, but find it completely empty now. I look around the crowded diner and don’t see them anywhere.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, babe,” Candy says, interrupting my scrutinizing perusal of every booth and chair to see if they are seated anywhere else. “The hot one with the glasses asked for you, while his brother looked like he was about to storm into the kitchen just so he could have his way with you. I told them that you were about to go on your brea
k. They’re both out back waiting, so hurry the hell up and get your freak on, babe. I’ll cover your tables.”
“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?” I ask politely, bouncing from left to right, wanting to do as Candy ordered and just run to them in a mad dash.
“I’m sure, babe. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And trust me, there is a lot I could do in a ten-minute break.” She winks, biting her lower lip conspiringly.
I laugh at my daredevil friend’s remark, rushing past her to see for myself just how much I can cram into ten minutes. I don’t even bother taking off my white apron to meet the two boys who wreak havoc on my heart. When I get outside, I am hit with the blazing morning sun on my face. My eyes water instantly, since being sensitive to bright light is one of my dismal symptoms. I cover my eyes with my hand and run the ten feet I need to turn into the side alleyway behind the diner.
Before I make the sharp corner, two strong hands pull me in and push my back against the brick wall, silencing my yelp with a kiss, mimicking all the desperate longing I’ve had for the past year. I don’t need to open my eyes to know whose ravenous tongue invades my mouth, wrestling my own in hungry desire. I wrap my arms over Ash’s broad shoulders and play with the strands of his hair at the base of his neck. With one hand gripping me tightly on my hip, intent in pulling me closer against him, and another on my throat, dominating me completely, my body ignites under his forceful caress. Before I let the fire of his kiss and touch consume me, I place my hands on his chest and softly push him away.
I know that, as much as I wanted to test the theory of losing all my inhibitions this summer, I can’t do that just yet, no matter how much my body craves to. Having a quickie with my twins in a back alley behind my workplace is not the romantic way I have fantasized our first time together. Not in the slightest. I press a soft kiss on Ash’s lower lip to take the sting out of ending our make-out session so abruptly and open my eyes to see the rebel boy who stole my heart.
“Hi.” I sigh, my eyes too hooded to pretend his kiss didn’t leave me all hot and bothered.
“Hi, yourself,” he replies, licking his lips devilishly while his thumb continues to tenderly stroke back and forth on my throat.
He places one last chaste kiss on my forehead and then backs away, allowing my eyes to land on the other owner of my heart.
“Ollie,” I bellow out, running to him and jumping into his arms. His bright smile only widens when my legs wrap around his waist. Like ivy on a tree, I glue myself to him as I take his lips hostage. Where Ash’s kiss is pure, unadulterated passion, his fraternal twin’s is worship—savoring my taste unhurriedly, wanting to discover every secret corner, and lavishing it with care and adoration. Our kiss is an answered prayer, promising reverence with each stroke of the tongue and bite at the lip. Only his strong grip on my ass cheeks betrays his steady, peaceful rhythm. The bite of his nails demonstrates just how greedy he is for more, even when his soft-paced kiss pretends otherwise. I feel his restraint kick in when he places me back on my feet, his temple pressed against mine, our erratic breathing mixing with one another. Not even ten seconds pass before I feel Ash’s distinctive arms fold around my stomach as he nestles his head into the crook of my neck.
“I missed you both so much,” I whisper, eyes shut, trying to memorize this feeling of contentment.
Just one more snapshot immortalized in my head and in my heart—one that I will take back with me to cherish after we say our goodbyes again.
“We missed you more, Snow. More than you can imagine,” Ollie confesses, as Ash places butterfly kisses on my neck.
If anyone passing by saw us three like this, entangled in each other, they probably wouldn’t understand. They’d think we were just three confused teenagers, whose raging hormones took precedent over common sense.
But the thing is, they would be wrong.
It’s not our lust for each other that makes it hard for us to let go; it’s our young, innocent love—pure and true to a fault. My short life has given me so many disappointments and cruel challenges, but being granted the gift of the twins in my life was perhaps the universe’s way of evening the scales. Ollie and Asher offer me something so genuine and honest that most people can’t even fathom its existence. To have such a wonder of love, you’re bound to have some heartache to be worthy of such a blessing. I know the hardships of pain and sadness, but thanks to the two boys who are holding onto me so fearlessly, I know love, too.
And if all goes to plan, in a year’s time that’s all I will ever know.
Chapter 4
Oliver
Ash keeps pacing back and forth, creating a line in the sand beneath his bare feet. I watch him look at the screen of his phone every ten seconds, with a frown becoming more persistent at what he sees. His aggravation is either because there is no new text from Snow advising her whereabouts, or he’s just disgruntled at witnessing the snail pace of each passing second, all of them adding up to minutes endured without her. My money is on the latter.
“Will you cool it? You know she’s coming. The Shack closes at ten, so she must be on her way here already,” I explain, hoping to cool my brother’s anxiety.
If he doesn’t relax, he won’t be able to restrain himself when Snow arrives, and an uncaged Asher will undoubtedly spook our bashful girl. Snow needs to be handled with a patient hand, accompanied by a smooth, supportive tone to build her trust and confidence. We need her strong and sure of herself. And most importantly, we need her to be sure of us for what we intend to spring on her tonight. Ash won’t be doing us any favors if he doesn’t tone down his impatient urges and think of the big picture.
“We should have bought her a car for her sixteenth birthday as I told you. I don’t like her running around on that puny, little bike of hers. It’s on its last leg, it’s dark as fuck, and most of the morons who come to the Hamptons this week are here to get shit-faced. They could run her over, and it will be our fault, Ollie. Ours,” he cautions, his brows pulled tightly together with the strain of worry.
His outspoken fear brings up old wounds in me, and I know all too well that my twin’s concern is valid. Yet, if we did buy Snow a car, I know she would take offense to the protective gesture. She might be modest, but she’s not a fragile flower who can’t take care of herself, and I don’t want to insult her in any way by flaunting our wealth in her face. She gets enough shit like that from the tourists who swarm her town this time of year.
Every summer Snow works herself to the bone in that little corner diner, but you wouldn’t know just how hard if you didn’t pay close attention. And when it comes to Snow, I pay attention to every detail. While she always wears a smile on her face that could melt an iceberg, I see how her body aches after she’s been on her feet for most of the day.
We never talk about money, but it doesn’t sit well with me how we have so much, and she has so little. Not that she has ever lamented the fact, but her having to do double shifts six days a week all summer speaks volumes to guys like us, who will never need to work a day in their lives. I’m just crossing my fingers that what we did won’t hurt her pride any; that somehow she’ll see it for what it is—the beginning of our future together.
“Fuck this. I’m calling her,” Ash grunts, his fingers already on speed dial.
I knock the phone out of his hands and push the idiot away from it. Of course, my hotheaded brother pushes me back just as hard.
“Will you stop, already? Snow has lived here all her life and knows her way around better than we do. Nothing is going to happen to her. Not unless some idiot keeps blowing up her phone because he’s worried about her. She’ll be less cautious on the road just to appease your panicked ass.”
“You better be right,” he grunts, displeased with my logic.
“I am, so stop stressing, asshole,” I mock, picking up his phone and cleaning the sand away before handing it back.
“You know, this morning you were the one who couldn’t
wait to see Snow; now you’re all laid back and shit. It’s annoying as fuck, Ollie. Stop it,” he groans, wiping his precious phone on his T-shirt.
“It’s called showing some restraint. You should try it sometime,” I continue to tease, only for him to flip me off.
I chuckle at his childlike antics and add some more wood to the bonfire. Not too much since I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to us. Although this is one of the most secluded beaches we know of, there is a mansion on the cliff next to it that may deem this small patch of paradise as its private property. We’ve never had any trouble before, but why tempt the wrath of some stick-up-his-ass proprietor?
Also, I’m not interested in explaining our relationship with Snow to some stranger, especially when we’re still trying to figure out the mechanics of it. Every summer, this beach sees some hot and heavy petting, and if the said owner should waltz onto it at an inopportune time to enforce his right to kick us out of his property, he might just get an eyeful he didn’t bargain for. That isn’t the type of compromising situation I want Snow to have to experience, especially because I know how uncomfortable it will make her.
Back in school, I know some girls who love to give a show. Can’t say I haven’t gone to a party where things escalated and turned X-rated fast. Still, I know Snow isn’t the type of girl who would enjoy an audience, at least not beyond the two willing spectators-slash-participants she already has.
A sudden wind blows past me, and when I turn to the side, I see my brother run toward a tired-as-hell Snow and raise her up in the air in his arms.
“Put me down,” she shrieks excitedly, and the whimsical tone in her voice tightens my chest with the unnamed emotion I feel for the plain Jane wannabe.
What I feel for Snow is more than evident, but my craven heart hasn’t allowed me to give it a name yet. Once I do, I’ll want to confess it to her. We are still too young to say such words aloud anyway. I mean, she’s still four months shy of turning eighteen while Ash and I celebrated it last spring; way too young for us to declare the L word to each other, even if it’s what we feel. Of course, I’ve always been a pragmatist at heart. My brother though—the same one who’s so impatient in having his tongue down our girl’s throat, not allowing her a minute of air—isn’t as constrained. But he’s always been braver than me. I envy that about him.