13. Callie
CHAPTER 13
CALLIE
I should be exhausted when I leave the Pruitt brothers’ beach house, but I’m oddly energized.
Max can be exasperating, but I have to admit I had a good time with him. Our conversation flowed easily, I laughed more than I have in weeks, and his thoughtful good manners were refreshing.
Miles … is still Miles, but together, the two of them fascinate me, with their similarities and their differences.
I still can’t believe I allowed Max to talk me into going along with their silly prank. If my mom finds out, she’ll disown me. I don’t want anything to mess up Sadie’s wedding, but aside from my mom going ballistic, the twin-switching “hijinks” seem pretty harmless.
What I’m most worried about is spending time with Miles. It’s hard to imagine holding a conversation with him, much less passing him off as my adoring boyfriend.
Maybe I’ll see a different side of him during our study sessions, or maybe the men will decide this was a bad idea and call it off.
We exchanged phone numbers before I left, with Max making another offer to send a dick pic, and Miles whipping his head around in confusion, making both of us crack up.
They offered to cook dinner for me at their place tomorrow, and they even asked what I liked and disliked. Rick never cooked for me. Come to think of it, no man has ever cooked a meal for me, outside of a restaurant worker.
After I pull into my parking space, I text my mom. It’s late, and she’ll probably be asleep, but Max’s name will be waiting for her when she wakes up.
She responds right away, while I’m gathering my yoga bag and towel from the backseat. “Pruitt? I don’t think I know anyone by that name. Can’t wait to meet him!” The little excited emojis she adds to her message make me sad. Why is me being with a man so important to her? I can already tell she’s going to be mightily disappointed when our fake relationship suffers a fake break-up immediately after the wedding.
Inside the townhouse, both Marissa’s and Ana’s bedroom doors are closed, but Marissa comes out as I’m rinsing my water bottle. “You’re home much earlier than I hoped you’d be.”
Grinning, I roll my eyes and shake my head. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Who were you with? Anybody I know? Though I don’t think I know anyone who lives on Surfline Drive.”
I make a show of checking my watch. “It’s late, and I need to be up early. I’ll tell you all about it the next time I see you.”
My roommate’s eyes are full of hope. “Just tell me, are you seeing him again?”
“It’s not like that, Marissa.” To myself I add, We’re going to pretend it’s like that, for my family’s sake, but it’s not, no matter how many dick pics are on offer.
Still, I’m humming one of my favorite songs while I get ready for bed, and as I fall asleep, I’m surprised to find that I’m looking forward to tomorrow.
Miles is in yoga class as usual, and now that we have an arrangement between us, I’m treated to a nod as a morning greeting. Not a hello, not a smile, and definitely no conversation, but there is a nod of acknowledgment, so I guess that’s progress.
I don’t understand how Max thinks his brother will be able to act like he’s my boyfriend, and I’m having a really hard time imagining Miles and Max passing themselves off as the same person, despite their identical features.
The women in class ogle Miles, as usual, and I laugh to myself, imagining how they’d behave if they knew he had a twin. If both men came to class, I’d have to hold the session outdoors to accommodate everyone who would come just to look at the two of them.
My midday shift at Big Daddy’s moves slower than dirt, and then it’s finally time to go learn all I can about the Pruitts.
After a quick stop at my house to shower and change clothes, I drive over to their beach rental, where Max greets me at the door with a friendly hello and a quick hug before ushering me inside. I enjoy the hug more than I'm willing to admit.
Miles, who’s in the kitchen putting away dishes from the dishwasher, gives me another brief nod.
After Max pulls out a stool for me at the tall counter that separates the living room from the kitchen, I take a seat. “Since I’m here to get to know you both better, I’m going to dive right in.”
Max takes a step back. “I was going to offer you something to drink first, but okay. Go ahead.”
“Were you two raised together, or did you have some kind of Parent Trap situation, where you grew up across the world from one another?”
Max’s brows knit together. “That’s your first question?” To his brother, he says, “See, I told you she had a vivid imagination.”
Finished with his task, Miles leans against the far wall, watching us. The kitchen is extraordinarily clean. From what I can see, I’d be comfortable eating food directly from any part of the gleaning countertop, or possibly even the floor. Not one single stray item clutters any surface.
Max crosses into the kitchen, the strong muscles in his back prominent even beneath the black t-shirt he’s wearing. “Why do you ask that, Callie?”
“From everything I’ve observed over the past week, the two of you are night and day. I always thought identical twins had similar behaviors as well as appearances.”
“Not necessarily,” Max says, “but we have more in common than you think. Miles is just quieter than I am.”
At this, Miles turns away, busying himself with something on the empty counter, and I’m afraid that I’ve offended him. While I’m trying to figure out what to say to make things right, Max opens the door of the refrigerator and lists off a selection of beverages as he looks inside.
“Can I get half lemonade, half iced tea, please?”
Max gestures making a note in the air. “Likes Arnold Palmers.” While he pours the drink, he quizzes me on other beverage likes and dislikes, and tells me his in return, including his mixed drink preferences.
“Are you sure we can do this? We’re barely scratching the surface, and this already seems like a lot to remember. And what kind of drinks do you like, Miles?”
“We have the same taste in most things.” Maybe it’s because he rarely speaks, but the way Miles says this and the way he’s looking at me, has me reading more into his words than drink preferences. It has my cheeks going warm, actually.
Max grins as he sets my drink in front of me. “We don’t need to know everything about each other. We can say our relationship is new, and body language will sell it more than knowing every like and dislike. Don’t worry, Callie.”
Talk of body language is not helping my cheeks. He’s right, and how is it possible that it hadn’t yet occurred to me that when we’re around others at the wedding, we’ll have to do things people in a relationship do, like stand close, hold hands, maybe even kiss.
“While you’re sitting here, could I borrow your car keys?” Max holds his hand out, and I stare back at him in confusion.
“Do you need to move my car? I can do it.”
His smile deepens into one that I imagine lets him get away with a lot. I’ll bet he charmed his way out of all kinds of trouble as a kid with that smile. “It just so happens that we found a spare car battery lying around here.”
“You found a battery? And it just so happens to be the kind my car needs?”
“It does. How did you know?”
I shake my head. “Please tell me you didn’t buy a battery for me.”
“We didn’t buy a battery for you.”
“Then where did it come from?”
Max shrugs, his eyes playful. “You told me to tell you we didn’t buy it for you, so I did. Just let me have your keys, Callie. You’re taking us to a deluxe resort next week. The least we can do is change your car battery.”
I want to protest, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. And since they already bought the battery, I imagine it would be somewhat of a hassle to return it, so, exasperated, I hand over my keys. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“Just pretend it never happened.” Max disappears out the door, leaving me alone with Miles, who’s been pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.
“You didn’t have to cook dinner, either. I could have brought sandwiches from the shop.”
“I like to cook. We’ve eaten a lot of those sandwiches lately, anyway, and I’ll bet you have, too.”
“You’re right. I have. I’m full up to here of Big Daddy’s.” I gesture to a spot near my chest before realizing what I’ve just said and how it sounds. Quickly changing my tone, I ask, “What can I do to help?”
He bends to get a pan from a lower cupboard, and I get distracted by the span of his shoulder muscles. “You don’t have to help.”
“I don’t want to sit here and just watch you.” That’s a partial lie. Aside from the fact that it would be awkward, I wouldn’t mind watching him at all.
He brings up a cutting board from another cupboard and sets it on the counter. “You could go sit on the deck and relax, but if you’d like to help, you can cut vegetables for the stir-fry.”
“Happy to help. I’m not very good at sitting around idle.”
He moves the board in front of me, and opens a plastic bag that holds two summer squash, before taking them over to the sink. “So I’ve heard. Max told me about your work schedule.”
After I ask him how thin he’d like the vegetable slices, things are quiet between us for a few minutes, as Miles puts rice on to cook. As I finish the squash and move on to red and yellow peppers, I say, “Are you sure you want to do this switcheroo at the wedding? I have the impression that Max talked you into the whole thing.”
“What gives you that idea?”
I would have much preferred that he answer my question rather than putting me on the spot with one of his own. How do I answer without risking offending him again?
“We hardly know each other …”
“You hardly know Max, either.”
I wince. I shouldn’t have brought this up, but now that I’ve started the discussion, I feel compelled to finish it. “You don’t exactly seem enthusiastic about it.”
He doesn’t respond for several long beats, making me wonder if he’s considering how not to offend me. Finally, he says, “I guess enthusiasm isn’t my style.”
“Are you sure you’ll be up for making small talk with my family? I mean, I can bear the brunt of it, but they’ll be asking questions, wanting to get to know you.”
Another uncomfortable moment of silence passes. “I’ll be up for it.”
Alrighty then. I guess that’s settled.