The Twins & Me

Tracked

Lila makes a mad dash to get ready and she conveniently takes the shirtless man with her, leaving the other three to take their time with getting up and out of our apartment.

As I'm taking my turn in the bathroom, I admire the slight bruising on my hips where Arlo gripped me the night before, and to my slight horror and amusement, a small mark on the side of my neck from the collar. I shiver and dab some makeup on it. A hickey would be one thing; expected and recognized. A bruise on your neck is another kind of explanation.

There's a soft knock on the bathroom door.

"Uh, Lila's sister?" a man's voice says.

I pause, stare at the door. "Yes, Lila's friend?"

Roark speaks again. "Where do you keep your garbage bags?"

I cap the tube of concealer. "Under the sink."

Without another word he walks away. He definitely doesn't seem the kind of person Lila usually hangs around, I decide. From her wild friends in high school to unruly musician boyfriends she brought home from college, he seems more the type you'd find at her office and not someone she'd party with. Except for his mouth, of course—he really has no problem letting obscenities fly.

I finish up in the bathroom, the adrenaline from the night before slowly ebbing away. As I gather my things into my backpack for school, I'm silently placing a bet with myself on how long I can stay awake during class.

There's movement in the kitchen as I emerge from the hallway; Roark's picked up the bottles and take-out from the night before, and a full garbage bag sits by the front door. Nate and Ainslee have disappeared, probably to go relieve their babysitter.

"You don't have to do this," I call out to him.

The dishwasher thunks closed, and a much more alert Roark appears in the doorway. "Can't stand mess," he says, avoiding eye contact with me.

I nod, scooping up a pillow to throw on the lounge chair. "You work with Lila?"

He nods in response, picking at a piece of chipping paint in the doorway. "Yeah, we started at around the same time at the agency."

"You guys both in design or..?" I'm trying to figure out why I've never met him before, or why I've never heard Lila mention him. Though, to be fair, I'm pretty sure she's never mentioned the shirtless man who slept with her in her room last night.

"Yeah," he says, and then after some hesitation adds: "I'm technically her superior."

"Oh," I say, pursing my lips. "Is that why you made her go in and not yourself?"

He looks at me, alarmed. "No! I just—she wanted to go in—bring Brian with her, they drove together—"

I laugh, suddenly imagining this flustered man giving a presentation.

"She invited me last night, as we were all heading out, I usually don't drink that much..." He glances around. "Definitely a pity-invite."

I shake my head. "Lila doesn't do that. If she invited you, it's because she wanted to. Besides, if you hadn't been here, I would've been able to sneak in unnoticed."

That pulls a smile out of him. It's a nice smile. "Sorry."

I shrug, make a move towards the door. "Don't worry about it. I deserved it."

He takes a step towards me. "Also, about the grabbing you thing..."

I wave him away. "Don't worry about that, either. Lila used to sleepwalk when we were little. One time I woke up with her sitting on my chest, thinking she was on a plane or something. Almost suffocated me."