I’m here. He knows I’m here. And yet neither of them is acting like this is an earth-shattering revelation that’s going to change our dynamic or ruin their relationship.

Dempsey walks over to the bed and props up on the edge, holding out one arm to me in invitation. I crawl over to him, careful to keep my ass covered now that we have an audience.

“You okay?” he murmurs into my hair and strokes my shoulder as I sink into his touch and hum my reassurance.

“Dude,” Fielding starts, calling our attention to where he’s bent over and panting in the middle of the room. “She did it,” he declares. “She seriously did it.”

Uncertainty shoots through me as I look between the brothers. Fielding’s smirking. I don’t know what the hell he’s playing at. I didn’t do shit. I wouldn’t. Dem knows that.

“You’re an idiot. If you didn’t already have a broken rib, I’d break one for you,” Dempsey quips.

Fielding grins, puts both hands on his head, and does a twirl right in the middle of his brother’s bedroom.

“Bro. She knew!”

“I’m lost,” I interject. “What did I supposedly know?”

“You knew I wasn’t him,” Fielding answers without missing a beat. “I don’t know when it clicked—”

“The second you gripped my hip differently than he does,” I retort.

Dempsey pushes off the mattress, strides across the room, and smacks his brother upside the head.

“Don’t touch my girlfriend,” he scolds, coming back to sit beside me as Fielding and I lock eyes.

Did he just…

“Girlfriend, huh? I see how it is,” Fielding snickers. He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “That tells me everything I need to know. My work here is done.”

He backs out of the room wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “She can tell us apart, Dem,” he whispers excitedly before slapping the top of the door frame and finally leaving the room.

Dempsey and I exhale in unison.

“What just happened?” I ask, half-amused, half-shocked.

“Fielding just happened.” Dempsey sighs and wraps me in a hug before resting his chin on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Did he touch you anywhere else or make you uncomfortable?” he asks tentatively, his brows pulled together in worry.

“I’m fine,” I laugh. It would take a whole lot more than Fielding copping a feel to scare me off. “What is he going on about, though?”

Dempsey sighs again before answering. “It’s… it’s something we used to play at when we were younger. We’re identical twins.”

“No shit.” I roll my eyes. “But you’re nothing alike. I’m sure plenty of people can tell you apart.”

Dempsey side-eyes me, then shakes his head. “No one either of us has dated has ever been able to tell us apart.”