Tasting My Ex's Twin Brother

Chapter 7: Your Loss, My Gain

Elena’s POV

"Fine. We'll give them the show of their lives. But if we do this Hart, there is no backing down. And.... you're mine in front of everyone."

My heart hammered so hard against my ribs I was terrified he could hear it over the quiet hum of the hallway. For a long, breathless second, I just stared up into Evan’s dark, stormy gray eyes, the sheer gravity of his words pinning me in place.

"Okay," I whispered, the word slipping out before my brain could process the magnitude of what I was agreeing to. "Let's talk somewhere quiet."

We slipped out the back exit of the dorm building, cutting across the shadowy grass to a secluded wooden bench tucked beneath a massive, weeping willow on the edge of the quad. The cool night air helped clear the fog from my head, but as we sat down, the space between us vibrated with a sharp tension.

I pulled my knees to my chest, turning to face him. "Why, Evan? In the car, you acted like helping me in the cafeteria was a chore. What made you walk up to my door at eleven at night and change your mind?"

Evan leaned back against the wooden slats, resting his arm along the back of the bench. He looked out into the dark quad, his jawline hard in the moonlight.

"You said I was acting like my brother," Evan said, his voice dropping to a rough, low rasp that hit a tender spot in my chest. "That hit a nerve, Hart. I don't run away from things, and I don't leave people to fight alone. If we're going to do this, you need someone who won't break when the heat gets turned up."

He didn't look at me when he said it, but the quiet intensity in his tone made my throat tighten. He wasn't doing this to play games with Ethan. He was doing this because he couldn't stand seeing me get torn apart.

"Okay," I said softly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "If we are actually doing this, then we set ground rules."

Evan turned his head, his gray eyes locking onto mine, sharp and attentive. "I'm listening."

"Rule number one," I said, holding up a finger. "It is one hundred percent performative for the public. The hand holding, the soft looks, it's all an act to make Ethan see what he threw away."

"Agreed," Evan murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips before snapping back up. "Rule two?"

"No falling in love," I said firmly, though my chest felt strangely tight. "No catching real feelings. And..." I hesitated, heat creeping up my neck. "No sex."

Evan let out a low, dark chuckle, a sound that sent a shiver straight down my spine. "Understood, Hart. Strictly hands off behind closed doors."

"Rule three," I continued, forcing my focus back. "We make a pact to support each other's actual lives. If we're dating, it has to look real. That means you come to my classical ensemble recitals. I play violin for the university, and Ethan never came to a single performance."

A subtle shadow passed over Evan's face, his jaw tightening. "Done. And you come to my lacrosse matches. You sit in the front row."

"Deal," I breathed. "The second Ethan is thoroughly humbled and the rumors die down, we break it off cleanly."

Evan stared at me for a long moment, the dark wind whipping a piece of dark hair across his forehead. "Deal."

----

The next morning, I woke up with a knot of pure nerves in my stomach.

I dressed carefully, pulling on a fitted black turtleneck and dark jeans. I wasn't going to hide behind an oversized hoodie today. I brushed my hair, took a deep breath, and opened the door to my dorm building, preparing myself for the inevitable stares of the morning rush.

I stepped onto the concrete porch, and froze.

Parked right at the curb, idling smoothly in the morning light, was Evan's dark silver sedan.

Evan was leaning against the driver's side door, dressed in a clean black fitted tee that showed off the broad cut of his shoulders, dark blue jeans, and his varsity jacket slung over his arm.

The moment he heard the glass door click, his head snapped up.

A group of girls walking toward the dining hall slowed down, nudging each other and whispering as they recognized him.

Evan ignored them entirely. He pushed off the car, stroking a long, purposeful stride toward me up the porch steps. Before I could process what was happening, he reached out, wrapped a large, warm arm around my waist, and pulled me flush against his chest.

My breath caught in my throat. Before I could speak, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss right against my cheek, his lips warm against my skin.

My cheeks burned hot. "Evan..." I squeaked under my breath.

Evan’s hand tightened possessively on my waist, pulling me closer so his chest shielded me from the watching crowd. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered in a low, gravelly rasp, "People are watching, Hart. Smile. The show started ten minutes ago."

A strange, dizzying thrill fluttered in my stomach. I forced a soft smile, looking up into his stormy eyes. "You're very good at this."

"I am good at anything I decide to do," he murmured, his thumb stroking a slow line against my hip through my turtleneck. He took my hand, lacing his thick, calloused fingers through mine, and guided me down the steps to the passenger side, opening the door for me like a complete gentleman.

When we pulled up to the main humanities building at Westview University, the quad was packed with students rushing to eight o'clock lectures. The moment Evan stepped out of the car and walked around to hold my hand, the whispers exploded around us.

“Is that Evan Carter?”

“They’re actually together? I thought the cafeteria thing was a fluke!”

“Look at how he’s holding her hand…”

Evan didn't flinch. He walked beside me with an easy, dominant grace, his large frame acting as an unbreakable shield. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors to my lecture hall, guiding me down the sloped aisle to two empty seats near the back. He pulled out my chair for me, settling into the seat directly beside mine, his knee resting casually against mine under the small desk setup.

Ten minutes into the lecture, the back doors creaked open.

Ethan walked in, flanked by Tiffany. Ethan looked exhausted, dark shadows under his amber eyes, his jaw clenched tight. But the moment his gaze scanned the room and landed on me, sitting next to Evan, Evan's large hand casually draped over the back of my chair, Ethan stopped dead in his tracks.

His face flushed a dark, furious red. Tiffany whispered something into his ear, but Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets, glaring at us with pure, unadulterated venom before sinking into a seat three rows ahead.

Throughout the entire lecture, I could feel the heat of Ethan's glare burning into the side of my face. But every time I felt a twinge of anxiety, Evan’s fingers would lightly brush against my wrist under the table, grounding me instantly.

When the professor finally dismissed the class, the room filled with the rustle of papers and moving chairs. I began packing my notebook into my bag, but before I could stand up, a heavy shadow fell over my desk.

Ethan stood over us.

His amber eyes were fixed entirely on me, completely ignoring Evan’s presence beside me. "Elena," Ethan said, his voice tight, laced with a forced authority. "I need to talk to you privately. Now."

A cold spike of annoyance shot through my chest, but before I could even open my mouth to respond, Evan stood up.

Standing at his full height, Evan towered over his twin, his broad shoulders blocking Ethan's view of me entirely.

"You want to speak to my girlfriend privately?" Evan asked, his voice dangerously low, a smooth, lethal rumble that made several students nearby pause their packing to listen. "You can say whatever you have to say right in front of me, Ethan."

Ethan’s jaw twitched, his fists clenching at his sides as his pride took a brutal hit in front of the remaining class. "This is between me and Elena, Evan. Back the hell off. She owes me a conversation."

"She doesn't owe you a single damn thing," Evan countered ice cold, not backing down an inch. "And she has plans. She's coming to watch my lacrosse match."

Ethan let out a bitter, hysterical laugh, looking past Evan’s shoulder to glare at me. "Are you kidding me, Elena? You're going to a lacrosse game? You never came to a single one of my ice hockey games the entire time we were together!"

The room went completely silent. Tiffany stood a few feet back, watching with crossed arms, her smirk fading.

I slowly stood up from my chair, stepping out from behind Evan’s broad frame to look Ethan dead in the eye.

"Because you never allowed me to, Ethan," I said, my voice steady, clear "You explicitly told me I wasn't up to your new college standard, and that I was going to embarrass you in front of your star teammates. Remember?"

Ethan choked on his breath, his face going completely pale as the brutal truth hung in the air. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Evan looked down at Ethan, a slow, dark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he reached out, wrapping his hand possessively around my waist and pulling me flush against his side.

"Looks like your loss is my gain, brother," Evan said softly.