He needed to get himself under control—immediately.
20
Gabriel had a twin.
An identical twin, it seemed. Their eye colors were different, and Gabriel’s dark hair was shorter than his brother’s, but every other detail about their appearance, was identical.
Scarlet’s drumming heart refused to calm down.
She blinked as she realized the guy standing before her was, without a doubt, the same mysterious boy in the black shirt from the festival.
The boy who had stolen her breath.
The boy whose presence teased her with the promise of a memory.
Scarlet hadn’t seen his face at the festival, but somehow she just knew she was looking at the same guy.
And She was unbelievably drawn to him.
Scarlet could barely control her body. Her hands wanted to roam across his chest, her legs wanted to wrap themselves around his, and her mouth wanted to run itself up and down his jaw.
It was by sheer miracle Scarlet was able to keep her hands and feet to herself.
Her mouth, on the other hand, wasn’t being as obedient.
Her lips nearly pressed against his cheek as she brought her face close to his in examination.
She knew him.
Instinctively. Completely.
Every fiber of her being was in tune with his and pulled for him.
Longed for him, even.
If Gabriel made Scarlet feel normal, this boy—Gabriel’s twin—made her feel…extraordinary.
He was undeniably familiar, which terrified and excited her at the same time.
Who was he?
She couldn’t help but continue to run her eyes over him.
Shamelessly.
She asked again, “Who are you?”
He paused before answering, “Tri—“
“Tristan Archer,” Scarlet said, barely above a whisper. She knew his name.
She knew his name.
How did she know his name?
“Tristan Archer,” she said again, feeling his name on her lips.
It sounded right. It sounded safe.
It sounded perfect.
Her heart tossed itself up against her chest repeatedly. Like it was trying to escape…trying to pry itself from her body.
Why was she responding in such a powerful way to this stranger?
“Tristan Archer,” she repeated. “How do I know you?” She cocked her head to the side and forced herself to back a few inches away.
He searched her eyes for a moment before asking, “Do you know where Gabriel is?”
Click.
Scarlet’s eyes involuntarily closed at the timbre of his voice.
His voice was like Gabriel’s, pouring into her ears with familiarity and comfort.
But where Gabriel’s voice was almost perfect, Tristan’s voice was faultless.
A sound with a direct line to her heart.
She was connected to it somehow, and desperate to hear more of it.
The snippets of memory she’d experienced when he first opened the door had been fleeting. Too slippery to hold onto, but thick enough to be more than just her imagination.
Tristan had some connection to her past. He was there, in her memories, floating along. She just had to find him….
“Scarlet,” Tristan said.
He knew her name.
“Scarlet,” he said again, clearing his throat like it pained him to speak.
Her eyes flew open, bringing her back to reality.
Agh.
Was she really just closing her eyes?
Way to be creepy, Scarlet.
She looked up at him and tried to compose herself.
“Did Gabriel come with you?” he continued.
Scarlet scrunched her nose. “Uh…no…?”
How was she supposed to explain she’d followed Tristan—a complete stranger—to his cabin in the woods all by herself?
How was she going to spin that so she didn’t sound like a stalker?
He blinked. “Then where…? Never mind. Come in.” Tristan stood back and opened the door completely, gesturing for Scarlet to enter.
She hesitated a moment.
Not because entering a stranger’s cabin in the middle of nowhere was generally a bad idea and often the beginning of a slasher movie.
But because she felt—no, she knew—stepping inside that cabin would change her life forever.
And her instincts were humming in anticipation.
She could have stood on the porch and deliberated all day, but she chose to trust her gut instead. Even if that meant she was insane.
She slowly walked inside and stood in the vaulted entryway. Before her stretched a large living room with thick, polished wooden posts and leather furniture. To her right were two sets of stairs; one heading upward, and another leading down.
A basement maybe?
Tristan shut the door behind them and, for an awkward moment, nobody said anything. He backed away from her and moved to the farthest end of the entryway.
Like he didn’t want to be near her.
He pulled out his phone, sent a text, and dropped it back into his pocket. Clearing his throat again without making eye contact he said, “Gabriel should be here soon. You probably have a lot of questions.”
That was an understatement.
Scarlet shuffled her feet and tried to find her voice. “So, you’re Gabriel’s brother, I’m guessing?”
He nodded.
“Huh.” Scarlet nodded as well. “Gabriel didn’t, uh…mention you.”
He nodded again. “Right.” His eyes finally met hers and Scarlet had a moment to really look at them.
They were a brilliant green, almost inhuman. But pretty.
Enchanting, even.
Aside from the eyes, he and Gabriel truly were identical. They had the same dark hair, the same muscular-yet-lean bodies. The same hands. The same lips….
It was a bit disconcerting, staring at a face so familiar but not knowing anything about the boy behind it.
Was he nice? Was he cruel?
Her instincts told her little, other than: You like him. You want to touch him.
Which wasn’t helpful at all.
“Follow me,” Tristan said, moving away from the door.
He led her into an expensive-but-rugged looking living room. Two large couches and one overstuffed chair were her seating choices. On one wall stretched a large, flat screen TV and on another an ornate stone fireplace.
Scarlet felt weird being in Gabriel’s house without him.
It felt like betrayal.
Well, that and the whole I-want-to-touch-Tristan thing.
She took a seat on one of the couches and perched herself at the edge, trying not to get too comfortable. Mainly because Tristan hadn’t exactly made her feel welcome.
And why would he? She’d stalked him to his hidden home in the forest and loitered on his doorstep.
She was definitely an unwanted guest, so she kept to the edge of her seat to be polite. And in position to run if, say, Tristan turned out to be an extremely good-looking serial killer.
She didn’t get the killer vibe from him, but she wasn’t exactly getting warm fuzzies either.
Where was Gabriel?
He was going to be so mad. Waiting for him to come home and freak out on her was probably a bad idea.
“You know what?” Scarlet said, standing. “I think maybe I’ll just go. I can…talk to Gabriel later.”
“No,” Tristan said. It was a command, not a plea.
Chills didn’t run up Scarlet’s spine, but she did start to look around for exits.
Just in case.
“I mean,” Tristan said, obviously trying to control his insistent tone. “I think it’s important for you to stay. At least until Gabriel gets back.”