I squeeze my thighs together on the barstool and try to calm my kitten, but it’s no use. If he has this sort of effect on me from across the room, I’m cream on a cracker once he makes his way toward me. Which he’s doing. Right now.

But as I watch his confident gait, an inkling of disloyalty tugs at my core.

The last time anyone even mentioned Fielding’s name was more than a year ago. My older brother, Rhett, insisted I block him from my phone, going as far as to make me swear I would tell him if Fielding ever tried to contact me. Something had gone down—and as per usual, no one would give me any details—but Fielding is officially on the no-fly list. He hasn’t been at any of our holiday gatherings over the last year. It’s like he ceased to exist.

If I’m not even allowed to accept a text from the guy, there’s no way Jake would hire him to work at his bar, right? Unless…

“It looks like you need a drink,” he murmurs in this deep, smooth voice that has me leaning forward in hopes of hearing him speak again. He stands opposite of where I sit and eyes me with a mix of intrigue and curiosity.

If his words hadn’t just given him away, that look was a definite tell.

This man isn’t Fielding.

This must be the other brother.

The sex kitten inside me revs her engine back to life as his eyes trail from my face to my chest, then back again. I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt from the effort. I probably look like an idiot—but I’m an idiot whose night just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

Fielding may be off limits. But no one ever told me to stay away from his twin.

Eat your heart out, Dempsey Haas.

We’re eye-fucking each other like no one else in this bar exists. His body’s illuminated by the funky teal lights that line the bar shelves behind him, giving his form this ethereal glow.

His eyes… goddamn, those eyes. They’re impossibly blue. They’re so light they’re almost clear. It’s like I’m standing on the edge of a pier over a lagoon, gazing down into a bottomless sea of baby blues.

The best part? He’s staring right back at me with such intensity it looks like he wants to eat me alive.

I don’t have time to come up with something clever to say before Jake is stalking toward us, that damn jaw tick working double-time to make itself known.

“I warned you, Fourth Wheel,” he hisses, pointing to me like I’m the one who initiated this conversation.