Famous by Association Page 8

  Apparently, he found my question funny, because he laughed deep enough—though rather quietly—to cause his shoulders to jump. “Would you like the long version or the nutshell answer?”

  I glanced out the window, realizing that we had time for him to tell me every aspect of his entire life, so I said, “The long version will do.”

  “Well, about four years ago, I bought a house with my girlfriend. We were together for over five years at that point, so I thought it would be fine. Which it was…for about three years. Then we broke up and had to split everything. I certainly wasn’t about to buy her out of the house and live there alone, and neither was she, so we sold it, split the equity, and I moved in here.”

  I waited a moment, not sure if he was done with his story. When I figured he was, I said, “That’s the long version? What’s the nutshell story, then?”

  “I broke up with my girlfriend and moved here.”

  I shrugged while flipping a card over, taking his card for the third time in a row. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying…that was a much shorter version. Anyway, when did this happen? Like, how long have you lived here?”

  “About eight months.”

  “Any plans to move out and live on your own?”

  We both flipped over eights, so we called out W-A-R while laying our cards down, and once we reached the last one, he gathered up the pile while answering my question. “Someday, but I’m not in any rush. I enjoy spending time with my sister, and when she has kids around, it’s fun to be the cool uncle…even though I’m technically not really their uncle.”

  “I take it you like kids?”

  “Yeah, who doesn’t?” He immediately shook his head and added, “Never mind, that was a stupid question. I’m sure there are lots of people who don’t like them.”

  I stopped myself before I said something that would blow my cover—it wouldn’t be a far-fetched assumption that Tiffany couldn’t stand children. Instead, I decided to stick with something more neutral. “Dave works at a youth center. He’s always trying to come up with new ways to improve it so more kids will come around.”

  “Is it local?”

  “No, it’s back home—” I immediately caught myself. “Where we grew up, I mean. He still lives there. I don’t, obviously…because I live here now. Not there.”

  Jacoby paused mid flip and stared at me through the flickering light between us. “Okay, you’re acting weird again. Do you not want to tell me where you’re from? Is that supposed to be some sort of secret?”

  I waved him off with a laugh. “No, of course not.” God, I really hoped not. “He lives in Glenndale. It’s about seven hours north.”

  “Yeah, I know where that’s at. I actually moved here from a small town about an hour south of there.”

  “That’s where you lived with your girlfriend?”

  He nodded, which I took as him not wanting to continue that topic.

  But then he surprised me when he said, “I actually really loved it there—or, at least, that general area. I just didn’t see the point in staying when my family is down here. I do lawn care, so I can do that anywhere. Nothing was keeping me there, nothing worth staying for.”

  “Yeah, I really love Glenndale.”

  “Do you ever think you’ll go back?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but a split second before my voice came to life, I remembered that he was asking Tiffany, not me. “Probably not. My life is here now. Not to mention, I’m not that close with my family.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to respond because I didn’t know what Tiffany truly thought of us. But I couldn’t stay silent forever, so I had to give him something. “My mom is super supportive—everyone says she’s my biggest fan. And even though I love listening to her brag about me to anyone who’ll listen, a person can only take so much of that.”

  “How often do you see them?”

  “Well, I’m really busy, you know, so not often at all.” That was the nicest way I could say it, considering the truth was that Tiffany avoided us like the plague. Technically, she avoided me, not so much Mom, but that was only because Mom fawned all over her. If I had to guess as to why she didn’t come around our parents much was because she wouldn’t be able to get away with acting like the most privileged person in the world. We all knew her, the real her, and if she started spinning stories, she’d get called out. Well, Mom wouldn’t, but Dad would.

  Jacoby slapped his cards on the table, facedown, and pushed up on his knees to stand. “Want anything to drink? I’m getting a beer. Without the AC, it’s getting a bit warm in here.”

  “Sure, I’ll take one, too.”

  Little did I know where that would lead.

  A few beers later, our card game was over—I won both times—and Jacoby had gotten Sir Terry out of his cage. Seriously, that bearded dragon was the coolest pet I’d ever seen. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t do tricks.

  “How old is he?” I asked as I held him, impressed with his size. His body was slightly longer than my hand from wrist to fingertips, but then there was his tail, which was close to reaching my elbow.

  “Nine months. I got him as a baby when I moved here. He was just over a month, and much, much smaller than he is now. He’s still growing, though. They say they continue to get bigger until about a year, year and a half.”

  We played with him for a bit between us—well, as much as one can play with a giant lizard—before Jacoby decided it was time for him to go back to his tank. I picked him up and carried him to the aquarium in the corner of the room, whining the entire time about how cruel it was to keep him behind glass like some display animal.

  Jacoby crossed the room in a few strides and stopped in front of me. He was close enough that I could smell him again, and just like last time, it put me under a spell. “If it makes you feel any better, he actually does spend a lot of time out of the tank when I’m here. But I think the storm is making him nervous, so being in the tank, where he’s comfortable and safe, is exactly what he wants. Trust me.”

  He took the not so little guy out of my hand and, without stepping to the side, placed Terry back in his home. This meant he leaned into me. That’s right, Jacoby leaned his body into mine, bringing his intoxicating scent even closer.

  In my haze of lust, I gripped the front of his T-shirt, and there was a small chance I made a noise of some kind—a moan, hum, not sure. Anyway, rather than back up, he only pulled away slightly to look at me.

  We were face to face, and the room was still rather dim due to the storm that still raged beyond the window. I was very much aware that we were alone. No one could see us, no one could judge us; it was just him and me.

  So I went for it.

  Using my grip on his shirt, I tugged him closer while pushing up on my tiptoes, bringing our mouths together. It was soft and hesitant at first, but then I got a taste of him, and damn, was I hungry for more.

  He brought his hands to my waist, which caused me to hesitate for a moment because I thought he was about to push me away. But when I felt him tighten his grip and pull my body against his, I knew it was safe to keep going.

  His tongue slipped past my lips while I threaded my fingers through his hair.

  We took one step back. Then another. Then another until he was sat on the sofa, my knees on either side of his hips. It was hot, and steamy, and sexy, and everything else I thought it would be. The one thing I didn’t expect was for it to be short lived.

  And unfortunately, it was very short lived.

  Out of nowhere, Jacoby pushed me away. Not just pushed me away, but he physically lifted my body off his lap and set me down on the cushion next to him. “Tiffany…” Talk about a mood kill; calling me by my evil sister’s name was like dousing me with below-freezing water. “You’re engaged.”

  I didn’t need to hear any more. That was enough for me.

  I got up and rounded the couch, not bothering to think about anything other than getti
ng the heck out of there. I didn’t care if I left anything behind; I could replace it. What I couldn’t replace, though, was my dignity.

  He called after me, but I ignored him as I opened the door and took off in the torrential downpour. Thunder rumbled all around me, the sky lit up like the Fourth of July, but that didn’t stop me. I didn’t care. I just wanted to leave. I wanted to get home.

  I didn’t want to be Tiffany freaking Lewis anymore.

  8

  Jacoby

  I did the right thing…yet I hated myself for it.

  Watching Tiffany run off like that pained me. I could see the humiliation in her eyes. I didn’t need the lights on to see that. But I kept telling myself that it was the right thing. She was engaged, we’d never be more than neighbors, and most importantly, I didn’t want anything to do with the spotlight that followed her.

  I certainly wasn’t about to be her secret lover.

  In the end, it didn’t matter how amazing her kisses were or how incredible her lips tasted, because it would never amount to anything. Her kisses and her lips—and the sexy way she moved her hips—all belonged to someone else.

  Not just anyone else, either.

  Adam King. One of the most talked-about football players of this decade.

  Yeah, like I wanted to get twisted up in that.

  I should’ve been okay with her leaving, but it left me unsettled. I tried to tell myself that it was because she ran out in the middle of a storm, and that the uneasy feeling in my gut was nothing more than concern for her safety. However, even I knew that it was a bunch of bull. The problem was…I couldn’t do anything about it.

  What I could do, though, was go check on her to make sure she was all right. That would be the proper thing to do. It would also give us an opportunity to talk without the hormones and sex-fueled thoughts that had made us blind to reality.

  I had a feeling that we would likely not see each other much after this, and the last thing I wanted was to have it all end on this note. Especially after we were able to get past the confusing attitude issue from the other day.

  A couple of minutes after she fled, I gathered up the courage to go after her, for the sole purpose of understanding. I was prepared for the worst, hoped for the best, and prayed that it didn’t prove to be the most awkward moment of my life.

  The back gate hung open—much like it always was, which I’d found odd. I thought security was important, especially for someone who was kind of a celebrity. Setting the lack of protection aside for a moment, I was grateful she was careless, because it gave me a way in instead of going around to the front. As soon as I made it to the patio, I found Dave outside, with a bottle of beer in his hand. If Tiffany had told him anything, then this could go all sorts of wrong for me.

  “Hey,” I said, sounding out of breath even though I wasn’t. “Is Tiff inside?”

  “Yeah.” He took a swig of his beer and then pointed to the small outdoor fridge next to the built-in grill. “Want one?”

  “No thanks, man. I’m okay.”

  As if he hadn’t heard me, he leaned down, grabbed a bottle from the fridge, twisted off the top, and handed it to me. “Here, take one anyway.”

  I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den, except this lion was particularly welcoming. Which could go one of two ways, and I wouldn’t know which one until it was all over. Either way, liquid courage was a good idea, so I took it, chugged a quarter of it, and decided to feel him out to see which way this would go.

  “Did she say anything to you when she got home?”

  He shrugged. “She gave me a brief overview. I don’t know details, but she said she kissed you, and then you humiliated her and threw her relationship in her face.”

  Well, he knew what had happened, and now he’d probably beat my face in. Although he didn’t seem to be a fighter. But you could never let your guard down around nerds; they were some of the most passionate people I’d ever met. I stood in a stance and got ready, just in case. “Listen—”

  “Would you have handled that differently if she weren’t with Adam? Or anyone, for that matter? Would you have pushed her away if she were single?”

  I lifted one shoulder and took another pull of my beer, needing a moment to contemplate my answer. Mostly because that hadn’t been the line of questioning I’d expected. “If everything else were exactly the same other than her being in a relationship, then no, I wouldn’t have pushed her away. However, that doesn’t mean I’d want to be with her, either.”

  “Why not?”

  I held out my hand and gestured to the opulence that was Tiffany’s house, that was Tiffany’s life. “This isn’t my scene. There’s a reason I live in my sister’s pool house rather than inside the main house. I’ve lived this before…I don’t want it again. She has cameras following her around. I want nothing to do with that. She hangs out with the rich and famous. Again, things I want nothing to do with.”

  Dave hummed to himself while he swayed in thought.

  “And before you ask how I would feel if she gave all this up, don’t. It’s a waste of time to even consider it. We’ve known each other for two weeks, have hung out only a few times—and one of those times she treated me like dog poo on the bottom of her very expensive shoe. So it’s a preposterous thought to even consider.”

  “Oh, I completely agree with you. Tiffany Lewis wouldn’t give this life up for anyone or anything.”

  That statement shocked me, not necessarily because of what he said, but how he said it. There was definite disdain in his voice, which confused me, considering they were supposedly life-long best friends.

  “Has she told you anything about her family?” he asked, his tone completely changed from two seconds ago.

  I recalled the conversation we’d just had about her family and where she was from. “A little.”

  “Did she, by chance, mention a sister?”

  Now, that caught me off guard. “No, why?”

  “You see, Tiffany and her sister are complete opposites. It would be like comparing sunshine to a decomposing body. Tiffany’s sister is fun, caring, loves to laugh, and she has a huge heart. She’s also pretty guarded, though. She rarely opens up to new people, all because of how Tiffany has treated her since they were little kids.”

  The more he spoke, the more confused I became. When he spoke of Tiffany’s sister, there was admiration peppered throughout his sentences. And it didn’t make sense if Tiffany was so horrible to her sister, why would he be friends with her.

  But I didn’t say anything. I just continued to listen and wait for something that would eventually make sense of all this. “As I’m sure you know, Tiffany can be a bit…nasty to everyone. And I mean everyone. She’s completely ruthless, which is probably how she got all of this to begin with.” Dave mimicked me from a few minutes ago, waving his hand around in show of Tiffany’s life.

  “Aren’t you and Tiffany best friends?”

  “I’m getting to that.” He held up one finger and took another swig from his beer. “I’m not saying that everyone despises Tiffany, but let’s just say I’ve never met a single person who actually likes her for more than her looks, money, or fame. Whereas, her sister is loved by anyone who crosses her path.”

  If he kept this up, I wouldn’t have any beer left. I just kept drinking while becoming more and more confused. It was a very complicated riddle, and there was no way I’d figure out the answer if he kept confusing me.

  I was mid gulp when he said, “Which is crazy because they’re identical twins.”

  The beer that I had in my mouth spewed all over Dave. Poor Dave. But I couldn’t apologize because I was too busy choking on the liquid that had started to make its way down my throat half a second before his untimely admission.

  Twin? Identical?

  One was fun and loving while the other was hateful?

  My mind began to whirl with questions and possibilities and even more questions. The very first time I ever met Tiffany, she was vile and rude
and disgustingly intolerable, unlike anyone I’d ever met. But over the last two weeks, she was nice and enjoyable to be around—well, minus the barbecue. It had seemed like she’d suffered from a split personality disorder. Split as in two entirely different traits.

  I had assumed that it was all an act. And it was, just not the way I thought.

  Then it hit me. “Is her sister’s name Tosh?”

  “Tasha, but yeah, everyone calls her Tosh.” Dave finished wiping the dribble off his face with his T-shirt. “How did you know?”

  “You sent her a box. It came to my sister’s house by accident, so I brought it over. I noticed the name on the front, and when I asked her about it, she gave me some ridiculous explanation about her name being Tosh-iffany or something like that.”

  Dave laughed. It was the first time since I showed up that his expression relaxed.

  “So that’s Tosh?” I asked, pointing to the house. “Where’s Tiffany?”

  “That I can’t tell you. You see, we’re legally silenced by these non-disclosure agreements we signed. We can’t tell anyone anything. It’s just a lucky break that you figured it out all on your own.” He was good; I could tell why they were best friends.

  “Where is she?”

  “More than likely upstairs putting on dry clothes or crying in the shower—it’s a toss-up. You should probably go find out.”

  Without another word, only a quick nod of appreciation, I ran into the house and took the stairs two at a time. My purpose for coming here had originally been to explain why I had pushed her away. But now, I had an entirely different purpose.

  I had no idea what room she was in, but I figured I’d try every single one until I found her. Now that I knew the partial truth, desperation urged me to find her. After discovering three rooms empty, I came across one with the door closed. Without a second thought, I flung it open, my gaze landing upon what I was looking for.

  Tiffany—well, Tasha—spun on her heel to face me, and as soon as it registered who was in front of her, her puffy eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She was dressed, though, from the looks of it, it seemed as though she had literally just slipped the ratty T-shirt over her head. The Nirvana logo on the front made me smile.