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Never Have You Ever (The Love Game Book 1) Page 2
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“Hi, I’m looking for Brody. Is he here?”
The guy opened his arms wide and plastered on a smile. “You found him.”
What?
“I’m sorry, is Brody here?”
“I’m Brody. Can I help you with something?”
“You’re not Brody.”
He jerked his head back like the accusation was absurd, and for a brief second, I wondered if I’d somehow entered the Upside Down and was in some sort of parallel universe where nothing made sense and my brother was a gorgeous stranger who looked happy to see me.
I pushed past him without waiting for an invitation. “Brody! Brody!” I called as I moved through the apartment.
“I’m right here. I’m sorry, who are you?”
“The better question is who the hell are you? Because I’m Brody’s sister, and you’re sure as shit not Brody.”
Chapter Two
S O P H I A
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” I asked Brody as soon as he picked up his phone.
“I feel like I get asked that a lot.”
“That should probably tell you something, then. Where are you right now?”
“At home, why?”
“Home as in Mom and Dad’s?”
“No. My apartment. Why? What do you need, Soph? I’m trying to study.”
I was still looking through the apartment like I was going to find Brody bound and gagged in a closet somewhere, which made absolutely no sense since I was currently talking to him. Meanwhile, the man claiming to be Brody was following me around, trying to talk to me. I continued to ignore him.
“You know how I know you’re not at your apartment right now?”
“How?” He sounded skeptical.
“Because I’m at your apartment right now, and there’s some guy here pretending to be you. You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“Why are you at my apartment?”
“I feel like you’re missing the point!”
“What is the point?” He seemed calmer than the situation called for. I sounded like a victim from Saw 2, and he sounded like fucking Gandhi.
“The point is that I got kicked out of my sorority house, and I came here so I could stay with you for a little while, but you aren’t here.” I looked at the Brody imposter. “Some weirdo is, and… You know what, I’m calling the cops.”
“No! Wait! Don’t hang up. Don’t call the cops.”
I was happy he sounded frantic now too. “What am I supposed to do? You’re missing, and there’s some person claiming he’s you.”
“I’m not missing.”
“Then where are you?”
There was a pause so long, I took the phone away from my ear to see if I’d lost the call. I hadn’t.
Finally, after a deep sigh, he said, “Italy.”
Now it was my turn to pause. “Italy? I really hope you just forgot to put the word Little in front of it and you don’t mean you’re actually in Italy, as in another country on another continent.”
Brody’s silence confirmed it was the latter.
“Oh my God! What are you doing in Italy?”
He let out one of those long, pained sighs, like all the air inside him had been released, leaving him completely deflated. It made me feel like it would be a good idea to sit down for the rest of the conversation, so I walked to the couch, lowering myself carefully onto it like the movement might disturb some imaginary sleeping person.
“You can’t tell Mom and Dad,” he said. “Promise me.”
“Jesus, Brody. I’m not gonna rat you out.” I was more hurt by his insinuation than I cared to let on.
“Right. I guess not. Because then I’d tell them you got kicked out of your sorority house.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Do we always have to talk in threats? We’re not kids anymore. Can’t we just help each other because we’re family? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not really that complicated. I just couldn’t do the whole school thing. I thought I could, but I went for like three days before I needed to get away.”
“You’re such a douche.” The comment slipped before I could think about its effect.
“See? Why would I tell you anything?”
It was a valid question. “I’m sorry. Really. I just… I thought you were finally committed to going down the right path.”
“Well, the right path for you may be the wrong path for me. The idea of staying there, trying to become what Dad wants me to be was… It was suffocating, Soph. I needed to get away.”
Oh, the drama. He should’ve been a theater major.
“What are you gonna do about your classes? Dad’ll find out you’ve been dropped from every course because you haven’t shown up.”
“That won’t happen.”
I laughed out loud. He’d really lost it. “How could it not?”
“Because my teachers think I’m showing up to my classes.”
My eyes locked with the person who’d claimed to be Brody, and suddenly it all clicked. I pulled the phone away from my ear.
“What’s your real name?” I asked the stranger. “When you’re not pretending to be my brother?”
He hesitated like the admission might cause him serious harm.
“Drew Nolan.”
Now my attention went back to Brody. “And how much are you paying Mr. Nolan to live your life for you while you’re across an ocean drinking wine and eating pizza?”
“If that’s all you think Italians do, you’re the one who should be traveling.” When I didn’t reply, he spoke again. “I’m not paying him. Just giving him a place to stay and a chance to learn something about business. It was kind of a mutual exchange.”
“Right. So you get to travel around Europe, and Drew gets to learn macroeconomics. Seems like a fair trade.”
Drew was pacing now.
“I don’t need to justify my choices to my little sister.”
“No. I guess you don’t. But you’ll need to justify them to Mom and Dad when they find out what you’re doing. And they will find out eventually. I get that you’re new to this campus, but you actually think that your teachers won’t notice another person pretending to be you?”
“They haven’t yet. He looks enough like me to fool people who’ve only known me a couple of days.”
“And what about your social media accounts? You think when Drew meets friends here they aren’t gonna check out his Instagram and see that there’s another person on there?”
“Have you been on lately?”
Of course I hadn’t been. I wasn’t even sure why I followed him. I didn’t care what he was up to. “No.” I put him on speakerphone and pulled up his Instagram page. All I saw were pictures of places, sporting events, other people. There were a few of Brody, but they were from far enough away that he could’ve easily been Drew, or vice versa, especially to someone who didn’t know them well. “You really deleted all the pictures of yourself?”
“Yeah. I’m not an idiot. Reckless and impulsive maybe, but not an idiot.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Reckless and impulsive are a definite, not a maybe.”
“I won’t argue with that.” We were both quiet for a moment, and then Brody said, “Guess you can stay there if you don’t have any other place to go.”
“You think I’d want to live with you if I did?”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not there. I don’t exactly wanna live with you either. I’m sure Drew’ll see what I’m talking about soon enough.”
“He’s not staying,” I said adamantly.
“Ha! You say that like it’s your choice. Just because you don’t have a place to live doesn’t mean Drew shouldn’t. It’s not his fault you don’t know how to play nice with your little girlfriends. And it’s not my fault either. I’m not letting your fuck-ups ruin a perfectly good arrangement I have going.”
“I didn’t ‘fuck up.’ A guy fell asleep in my room when we were stu
dying, and apparently there’s some ancient rule about—”
“Sounds totally understandable. I’m sure when Dad finds out you can’t follow simple rules, he’ll find you a nice place of your own.”
“Like he did for you?”
There was silence on the other end. I’d hit a nerve. And I was happy about it.
“Drew stays,” he finally said. “We gotta help each other out and all that, remember?”
Damn it. I hated when a person used my own words against me. And I hated it more when that person was my asshat older brother.
“Fine. He can stay.”
“You’re still acting like it’s your decision.”
“Brody!”
He let out a long sigh. “Okay, okay. You can even have my room, and Drew can take the couch. I’m not gonna have my little sister sleeping in a common space with a guy walking around at all hours of the night.”
“Thanks,” I said softly. And I meant it.
“You’re welcome. Just don’t fuck the place up, okay?”
It might’ve been the most welcome Brody had ever made me feel.
By the time I hung up with Brody, Drew looked even more panicked than he had before, if that was possible. He kept shoving his hands in his pockets and then taking them back out again to rub them together.
“Are you trying to start a fire?”
He looked up at me, and I noticed how dark his eyes were—almost black. “Huh?”
“I was referring to the way you’re rubbing your hands together.” I was suddenly embarrassed, though it shouldn’t have been me who felt that way. “Never mind. It was a stupid joke.”
“Oh.” He laughed, but it came out as more of an exhalation than an actual sound. He put both his hands on the top of his head and stood with his elbows out as he rubbed up and down his head nervously. “So… What’s the plan? Is he coming home?”
His worry surprised me, considering how relaxed he’d been when he’d insisted he was Brody. I laughed too this time, an overly exaggerated sound to tell Drew how ridiculous his question was.
“No. I highly doubt that.”
“Good.”
“Good? So you like living his life?”
He shrugged, and when his shoulders fell, he looked a little more relaxed. “So far, so good, I guess. Well, until you showed up. Brody didn’t tell me he had a sister who went to school here.”
“Of course he didn’t. I’m Sophia, by the way.”
Drew walked closer to me and held a hand out, creating a formality that didn’t quite match the situation.
When I took his hand, he said, “Nice to meet you.”
“You too, I guess.” I smiled, hoping the gesture would help me relax. It didn’t. “So, Brody told me I could take his room.”
He smiled back. Unfortunately for both of us, it wasn’t for very long. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get out of your way soon. I just need a few minutes to move some of my stuff.” He pointed toward the small hall that led to the bedroom. “And I’ll change the sheets for you.”
“Take your time,” I told him, suddenly feeling a little bit bad about how accommodating he was being. Though it wasn’t his apartment, so he should be accommodating. Then again, it wasn’t mine either. And I was sleeping in what should be my brother’s room in his apartment, and the guy who was supposed to be him was sleeping on the couch.
God, this was already such a clusterfuck.
D R E W
Was this chick crazy? She had to be. No girl in her right mind would voluntarily share a living space with a guy who’d lied about who he was immediately upon meeting her.
She wore a light-pink shirt that hit just above the waist of her jeans, and her long dark hair, which had been curled into loose waves, matched her dark eyes. With light-olive skin, a round face defined by pronounced cheekbones, long lashes, and a bottom lip that was slightly plumper than the top and begging to be kissed, she was quite attractive. From what I could tell, she didn’t appear insane. She looked totally normal.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Damn it. How the hell had I managed to impersonate someone for this long with absolutely no problem, but now someone I just met gets a read on me within minutes?
“Like what?”
“Like I’m crazy. Or maybe like you’re crazy. I’m not sure which.”
“Can it be both?”
We held one another’s gazes for a second before bursting into laughter.
She began to unpack some of her belongings.
“You need any help?” I looked around and realized she’d only brought two bags. “Do you have anything else back at the sorority house?”
“First thing you need to learn if you’re gonna pretend to be Brody is that he would absolutely not offer to help me do anything.”
“Noted.” I couldn’t reconcile the laid-back, friendly guy I’d known from the bar I worked at with the guy who wouldn’t offer to help his sister and forgot to even mention her.
“And yeah, I have a few things still there, but Aamee will probably send me to the gallows if I step foot in there again. I think a few of the girls can bring the rest over later.”
“Who’s Aamee?”
“The sorority president. Picture like a really sweet, selfless person who’s down-to-earth and beautiful inside and out.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “Then picture the opposite of everything I just said. That’s Aamee. She’s the reason I’m here right now, and I will take her down or waste my entire junior year trying. Well, after I’m done studying and going to class. I’m not Brody.”
I nodded. “So this is what college life is like, huh?”
“Guess it can be. You sorry you signed up for this?” Then she said with furrowed brows, “Why did you sign up for this?”
I didn’t really feel like getting into any of it now, so I just said, “A lot of reasons, really. And who can pass up a tiny one-bedroom that smells like chocolate chip cookies?”
“Clearly neither one of us.”
At the mention of the cookies, I offered to go down to the bakery and grab us a few, because once I had them in my mind, it was impossible to get them out unless they ended up in my stomach.
When I returned with a small bag of cookies from downstairs and two lattes from the coffee shop on the corner, Sophia was sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, scrolling through her phone.
“I guess I should’ve asked if you drank coffee,” I said, setting the cup down in front of her.
“Of course I drink coffee. I don’t trust people who don’t.”
“Well, we have at least one thing in common.” I raised my cup to give her a casual toast.
“Make that two things,” she said, reaching into the bag of cookies before tapping her cup against mine.
There was a knock at the door a few minutes later, and after wiping the crumbs from the counter, Sophia said, “I’ll get it. Two of the girls are supposed to be bringing over some more of my things.”
The door opened, and three girls walked inside. Two carried boxes, and one carried nothing but a cell phone. “We brought the last of your stuff,” one of them said as she set the boxes on the floor.
“Thanks. But you also brought her,” Sophia replied, her eyes focused on the tall blonde who was heading toward me like a lioness who’d just spotted a gazelle.
“We tried to stop her,” one of the girls said.
Sophia’s eyebrows narrowed like she thought that story was unlikely. “Well, you obviously didn’t try very hard. She had no idea where I was going, so that means one of you must’ve either told her the address or given her a ride.”
“Emma drove me,” the lioness said without looking their way.
“Seriously, Emma?” Sophia said. “How could you bring Aamee here?”
Ahh, that makes so much sense now. “Aamee,” I said with a smile. “I’m Sophia’s brother, Brody. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” she said. “B
ut if it came from Sophia, most of it’s probably a lie.”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “It’s time for you to leave.”
“Hang on. I just wanted to introduce myself and see your new place. So, you’re Sophia’s brother?”
“I am.”
“Sophia didn’t tell me she had a brother.”
This was the strangest family.
“And a cute one,” Aamee added. “So what was it like growing up with this one? Did you have to hide all the Twinkies and tell her how great she was constantly?”
“She was a great kid.”
“Not so much as an adult, though, huh?” Aamee tilted her head in a way that made me think she felt sorry for me. “Do you have any embarrassing stories?”
“I sure do,” I said.
Sophia glared at me like she’d cut off my nuts if I told Aamee anything of the sort.
In an effort to assert our sibling bond, I said, “But Fifi would probably kill me if I told you any, and I’m too nice of a big brother to do that.” I thought the nickname was a nice touch.
“Fifi?” Aamee and Sophia said in unison. Though their tones could not have been more different. Aamee was practically vibrating with excitement, while Sophia looked less than pleased, to say the least.
“Brody, you know I can’t stand when you call me that,” Sophia said much more sweetly than she obviously wanted to.
“Sorry.” I tried to give her an apologetic smile, but no apology could change the fact that Aamee had already heard it.
“Fifi,” Aamee said. “It reminds me of a small toy poodle.”
“All toy poodles are small,” Sophia told her.
“I think toy poodles are cute,” the other girl said.
“You’re not helping, Gina.”
Gina mouthed a Sorry to Sophia before addressing Aamee. “We should probably get going and let Sophia get unpacked.”
Aamee looked genuinely confused. “She owns like six things, and all of them should be donated to Goodwill.”
Of course that wasn’t true. I’d seen some of Sophia’s clothes already, and a few still had the tags on them. I wasn’t sure who would pay sixty-eight dollars for a tank top. Apparently those people existed, and I was now sharing an apartment with one of them.