I Confessed To The Wrong Twin

Ch.9

Rhys

I lean back against the dark leather booth, twirling a heavy silver fork between my fingers. Jami thinks I’m her gentle library nerd, and I just never countered her misunderstanding.

The hostess leads them toward my table, and my eyes pin straight to Jami. She looks incredibly fine in a dark dress that holds onto her curves in all the right places. But right behind her is a girl I'm sure I've seen a few times.

If she's her sister, then she is probably always around the club with Cole’s teammates.

A wide smile spreads across her face, what's her name again?

Vanessa Anderson?

The moment her eyes lock on my face, she stops dead in her tracks. Her jaw drops open, her eyes darting from my face to the expensive watch on my wrist.

Shit! She recognizes the campus playboy captain instantly. I watch the panic flash across her face, followed by a sharp, calculating gleam. A wicked smirk creeps onto my lips. *Game on, then.*

"Hey," Jami murmurs softly, sliding into the booth across from me. "Thanks for doing this. I know my family is being totally insane."

"Don't worry about it, babe," I drawl, keeping my voice low as I stare into her eyes. "I told you I'd show up."

Vanessa slides right into the booth next to Jami, her shock shifting into a toxic grin. She thinks she has massive leverage over me because my girl has zero clue she's out with the most notorious guy on campus.

"So," Vanessa starts, leaning her elbows on the table. "You're Reid. Jami talks about you non-stop. But wow... you look totally different than I pictured. You don't really give off the vibe of a guy who spends weekends buried in textbooks like she has been singing."

"People are full of surprises," I say, holding her gaze with a flat mask of pure boredom.

The waiter arrives, setting down our drinks. The second he walks away, Vanessa casually slides her sleek phone across the table, stopping it right against my glass.

"We should definitely swap numbers," Vanessa purrs, tilting her head. "You know, just in case Jami gets locked in her room again and needs me to pass a message."

Jami frowns, looking uncomfortable. "Vanessa, he doesn't need your number—"

"Oh, come on, Jami, don't be like that," Vanessa laughs. She leans across the table, lowering her voice until it’s a dangerous whisper over the restaurant music and only I can hear it. "You know, Rhys Morton... It’s kind of wild that my sister thinks you're some innocent boy from her lectures. I wonder what would happen if I opened my mouth right now and told her she’s actually dating Vanguard's ultimate player? That you’ve been lying straight to her face?"

She stops, waiting for the hit to land. She expects me to flinch, panic, or beg her to keep her mouth shut. She genuinely believes she can blackmail me into playing her little game.

She has absolutely no idea who she is dealing with. Her little threat doesn't even make my heart rate skip a beat. I take a slow, deliberate sip of my drink, my eyes locked on hers with a cold sharpness.

"Go ahead," I drawl, my voice totally relaxed. "Tell her right now. See what happens."

Vanessa’s eyes narrow, a flash of genuine frustration crossing her face. She wasn't expecting me to call her bluff.

"You think you're so smart, Rhys," Vanessa whispers, her voice tight as she snaps her phone back off the table. "We'll see how long you can keep this act up."

I just smirk, shifting my focus entirely back to Jami. "Everything good, Sweetgirl?"

"Yeah," Jami murmurs, her shoulders dropping. "Just... my sister has a lot of energy."

"I can see that," I say, throwing a brief look at Vanessa before calling the waiter over. "Let's order. Get whatever you want, Jami. It's on me."

I intentionally pick out the most expensive items on the menu. I watch Vanessa's eyes gleam with instant greed. She thinks she's getting a taste of the elite lifestyle, and she desperately wants a piece of it.

The second the waiter leaves, Vanessa tries to take over the conversation again, dropping heavy hints about the campus nightlife and exclusive downtown parties. Every single time she opens her mouth, I shut her down with a dry, one-word answer. I turn my body slightly away from her, leaning toward Jami to ask about her writing, completely freezing Vanessa out.

Vanessa’s irritation builds by the second. Suddenly, I feel a deliberate pressure against my leg under the table. Vanessa slides her foot up against my calf, a bold, provocative movement meant to prove she can get my attention right in front of her sister.

I don't move away. Instead, I shift my heavy boot and press down hard right on top of her expensive designer shoe, pinning her foot to the floor like concrete.

Vanessa lets out a sharp, choked gasp, her face twisting in sudden pain.

"Are you okay, Vanessa?" I ask smoothly, raising an eyebrow. "You look a little tense."

Jami looks up from her water glass, confused. "Vanessa? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Vanessa squeezes out through gritted teeth, her face flushing red as she struggles to pull her foot back. I let her go with a mocking smile, and she pulls her leg back instantly, shaking with anger.

When the main courses arrive, Vanessa realizes she can't intimidate me and she can't seduce me. So, she turns her venom directly onto the girl sitting right next to her.

"You know, Reid," Vanessa says loudly, her tone dripping with fake pity as she turns to look at Jami. "Jami was throwing an absolute fit in her room before we came out. She almost refused to leave the house because she was convinced that dress made her look way too heavy."

My hand pauses on my knife. I can feel the immediate change in the atmosphere.

Jami freezes completely. Her cheeks burn a deep, agonizing red, and she drops her silverware into her lap. "Vanessa, please don't," Jami whispers, her voice so small and broken it makes my jaw tighten.

"What? I’m just trying to make you feel better," Vanessa laughs, a malicious sound as she throws her shoulders back to show off her own slender frame. "Some guys actually prefer a girl with a lot of extra skin, right? It's honestly so sweet how hard she tries to dress up, even if she doesn't really fit the usual aesthetic for guys who drive cars like yours."

I look from Vanessa's smug face down to Jami. Jami is shrinking back into the corner of the leather booth, her fingers twisting the fabric of her skirt so tight her knuckles are white. She looks entirely crushed, waiting for me to agree that she doesn't belong here.