Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

XANDER

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 10 A.M.

My legs refuse to move as I stare at the building in front of me.

Sweet Obsessions Bakery. Who thought up that name?

I rub my palms on my pants. Tor tried to talk me into wearing jeans, but I can't stand the feel of them. He helped me pick out clothes. Something I hate doing. In school, we wore uniforms, and I never had to worry about it. Picking out my own clothes never leads to anything good. Because my focus is on what feels good. Not what looks good. And for the first time in my life, looking good is a priority.

My black stretchy dress pants fit well. Tor paired it with a long-sleeve gray Henley and said I looked hot.

Will Erik think so? I'm not sure he'll listen to me or even see me. But getting Erik back isn't the purpose of my visit. I square my shoulders and open the door to the bakery.

The décor is warm and welcoming, with pastel colors and pictures of baked goods hanging on the walls. But the intoxicating smell is what lures me in. Cinnamon. Melted butter. Sugar. And coffee brewing. I'm in heaven.

"What can I get you?" The kid behind the counter looks and sounds twelve. Blond hair and an innocent face. He looks familiar, but I know I've never met him.

The place is empty, which makes no sense. Shouldn't it be packed on a Monday morning? The items behind the glass case look and smell amazing.

Does it taste just as good? Erik and his sister did win the Dunklin County Bake-Off. Maybe I need to test that theory. I've always been a skeptical person. I need proof of something. Just ask my brother, Dom. Except Dom isn't really my brother. I reject that information, however true. I can't deal with anything but my mission.

The kid's eyes are wide as he watches. Erik is nowhere in sight. But he's probably in the kitchen.

"What's good here?" I ask. I've heard Dom say that more than once.

The kid starts like he doesn't expect the question. His eyes dart from the display case back to me. "I don't know."

I hold back a laugh. He can't really be twelve, right? The smile slips off his face for a few seconds and then returns even brighter. Only to lose its shine soon after. He adjusts his apron with shaking hands. Where is everyone else?

I lean in. "You might want to work on your sales pitch."

He copies me, leaning over the counter as he darts a glance behind him. "It's my first day."

Taking pity on him, I order a cinnamon roll and a cherry cheese Danish. Did Erik make all of these, or did his sister, Carinne? There's another option, but I can't focus on that right now.

The kid scrambles to fill my order, and I notice Erik standing to his right. He wasn't there a moment ago. I would have noticed.

He's dressed in jeans and a pastel blue T-shirt that emphasizes his broad chest with an apron over the top. My confused heart thuds happily at the sight of his messy blond hair and crinkles around his eyes, his perfect lips frowning at me. The man is stunning.

I try to resist, but a smile slips through.

Erik crosses his arms and intensifies his glare. "For fuck's sake, Xander. Stop harassing the help."

Still angry. Not surprising. "I'm just ordering breakfast. In a bakery."

"That's not what you're doing."

"Maybe you should enlighten me." And that sounds flirtier than I mean it. Not that I'm an expert. I gave up on my spreadsheets. They failed me the entire weekend. "Erik?—"

"No."

The bell over the door jingles. Other customers. And I already know what to expect. The nice everybody's-friend Erik will show up. And while I like this moody guy because, for some reason, it's mostly just for me, I long to see his smile again. Hear his laugh.

"Stop staring," he snaps. "It's creepy." He turns to the other customers, and his face lights up with a smile that matches his eyes. "Good morning, Mrs. Watt. It's wonderful to see you again. Clinton can help you with whatever you need."

His gaze swings back to me and his smile falls into a hard line. "You. Come with me."

"What about my food?"

He grabs my bag and holds it up. Then takes it with him as he disappears down a hallway. Clinton gives me a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, man. He's usually nice to everyone."

And for some reason, I grin at that. I'm gone for this guy. But again, that isn't why I'm here. The others are depending on me. I follow Erik, tapping my fingers and thumb together to help my focus.

My stomach growls. He still has my food.

The kitchen is modest but clean. And the smells here—from the source—have me eager for my cherry Danish. I'm about to ask again when he turns on me, his eyes flashing. "Why the fuck are you here?"

I point at the bag in his hand. "Breakfast."

"I'm done, Cage?—"

"Xander," I correct, keeping the irritation out of my voice.

His shoulders pull back. "You're still doing that?"

"Yes. I'm still going by my given name." Now that I understand his confusion, it makes it easier. For me. Not for him

"Don't be a smartass." He jabs a finger at me. "How dare you show up here and harass my employees."

"Clinton doesn't know what's good here." I tilt my head, enjoying this a bit too much. But I'm here. With Erik. And he hasn't thrown me out. Yet. "Maybe you should feed him."

"Maybe you should mind your own goddamn business. How's the catering business going?"

What to say to that? I shrug. "Not sure."

He laughs, sounding amused but not in a happy way. More in a you're a fucking idiot way. He takes a deep breath and tosses my bag of food to me. "Let's go out back."

My heart dances some more, and I try to tamp down the hope in my chest. "Is Clinton going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine. The church ladies are having a bake sale this morning. All our usual customers are over there." He walks to the door and glances over his shoulder. "Are you coming or not?"

The back area has a garden. Most everything has been harvested, but I notice a few fruit trees. Apples. Pears. It's peaceful back here. Beautiful. He motions to a small bench. Are we both going to sit there?

I settle on the bench and distract myself with the food. Opening the bag is like walking into the bakery all over again. I breathe in the intoxicating scent. When I glance up, Erik is watching me.

"I don't get you, Ca—Xander."

"Actually, I've been told that a lot. It's from being on the spectrum." I pull out the Danish. It's flakey and gooey and perfect.

"What?" He shakes his head and must realize I'm not kidding because his eyes widen. "You're autistic?"

The first bite of Danish melts in my mouth, and I try to hold in my moan. This is amazing. Did he bake it or someone else? I swallow my food and realize I haven't answered his question. "Yes. You sound surprised."

"Because I am. You're a very social person. Always making new friends. And you love a good party."

I tilt my head and consider his words. "That doesn't sound like me."

"Well, not this you. But the other you." He shakes his head. "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."

I finish my Danish and lick my fingers, not wanting to miss even a crumb. I let him grapple with his assumptions. I could enlighten him, but I'm not sure he'd believe me. And I'm still a little irritated with him.

"Xander." He sounds exasperated, and his eyes are hot on my face.

"What?"

"Why are you here?" He sounds almost hopeful. But that's not why I'm here. Not yet. Not while I'm still confused about who he really likes. Cage or me.

"How's Ca—my mom doing?"

A vein in his forehead throbs and his hands ball into fists. "No. You don't get to abandon her and then stroll in here like nothing happened." Damn. I should have asked Cage more questions. And Tor didn't mention anything. "Maybe I want to make amends."

"So you're looking for a job?"

I'm definitely missing crucial pieces of information. I might have to tell him. But I'm not ready. Not yet. "No. I have a job."

"Unbelievable." His eyes fill with something. Pain? Disappointment? "You left your mom short-handed so you could open a stupid catering business."

Did Cage really do that? I can't defend him since I don't know the circumstances. "She has you."

"I'm not her son. I'm not the person she wants to leave her business to when she can no longer—" He stops abruptly and presses his lips together in a tight line. "She pretended she was okay when you left. But I watched her break down every day."

My heart aches. He's such a good person. And I want to throttle Cage. "That was a long time ago," I say, guessing. I hate guessing, but he's not giving me enough information to go on. "How is she doing now? Today?" At his glare, I spread my hands out. "She's still my mother, Erik." Even though she isn't. She's not even Cage's mother. Not really.

For a long moment, I don't think he's going to answer. He bends down and rests his head in his hands. When his eyes reach mine, I can see the worry. The sadness. "Not good." He rubs his face. "I don't know how to help her, Xander."

"I have an idea. But I need you to trust me."

His laugh is sharp. Biting. "That will never happen."

I pull his arm down and take his hand, threading our fingers together. Something I would never have done before this weekend. "I'm not asking you to trust the guy who hurt you. Who hurt Mom. That's Cage. I'm talking about Xander. The one you've gotten to know this past weekend. Trust him. Me."

"You're the same person." He searches my face. "You dated Ren for three years. Moved in with him. Then broke up with him for me."

"No. I didn't."

He tries to pull his hand away. "Fucker."

"Erik."

The sigh he lets out sounds weary. Exasperated. "What?"

"I need you to hear me." At least he's looking at me and not the ground. "I was never in a relationship with Ren."

"I was there during most of it. So I know this for a fact, Xander. I want to trust you, but how can I?"

"I can prove I'm telling the truth. But not yet. I promise I'll explain everything, but for now, I need you to trust me. I'll be back at two p.m. today. Can you make sure Ca—Mom is here?"

He studies my face, and I try not to squirm. For a moment, I'm not sure he's going to answer. "Fine," he says with a quick shake of his head. "I'm a damn fool. Always falling for pretty eyes and a stellar ass."

Is that a compliment? It sounds like one. I smile. I'm still working on not looking creepy, but it's easier when I'm happy. And Erik trusting me when everything tells him he shouldn't makes me very, very happy.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 11 P.M.

After giving Paxton the signal, I go back to Tor's place to go over the plan. Which is no more complicated than putting the two women in a room together and hoping for the best. I think we need more than that, but I'm outnumbered.

Tor has been standoffish since last night. I stayed with him because they don't have hotels here.

His kitchen is interesting. Lots of gadgets. And it's decorated with crows. I'd think he was emo or goth, but he loves bright colors. Some of the crows are green and purple.

I have my notebook ready to update the plan. Tor is painting his nails. Again. He even has a little heater thing to dry them.

"Where does your mother live?"

He doesn't look up. "Near Lucinda in her own little house."

"Ah."

His eyes shoot up. "What does that mean?"

I'm startled by his question. "Nothing."

Tor leans back, glancing at my shoes. My watch. My hands. I fold them to cover the rings. "I'm guessing you guys have some money, huh?"

I shrug. "My mom owns a restaurant."

He puts the brush back in the polish and sits up. "My mom owns a bakery."

I hate to be blunt, but I don't know how else to be. "Vinni's is the name of our restaurant in Chicago. It's packed every night. I'm not saying the bakery isn't profitable." His eyes narrow, and I stop talking altogether.

"What are you saying?"

I feel like I'm walking on eggshells. "Just that we were raised under different circumstances. That's all."

"We did pretty well at one time. When my father was alive. Our father. Well, not yours or Cage's, I guess." He shakes his head. Turning on the warmer, he holds his hand still as his nails dry. It takes less than a minute.

"What happened?" I ask when he's done. I'm curious about this world and not just because Erik is in it. This is Dom's real family. I ignore the sharp pain in my chest. I'm still Dom's family.

He starts on the nails on his other hand. "Our dad was an ass. Just ask his mother. Lucinda will tell you everything. After he drank and gambled most of their money away, then wrapped his car around a tree."

"That's awful." Our father died before we really knew him. Should I mention that? "How old were you?"

He thinks about it, even though I'm sure the answer is right there. Maybe he's thinking about whether he wants to tell me. "Two. I think she was going to leave him. Run away with…"

"My mom."

"Yup. That's the theory, anyway." He continues painting his nails. Never making a mistake.

I push away my annoyance as I ask my next question. I don't need it clouding my words. "How long have you known all this?"

"A while. But what I didn't know," he says, looking up, "was that your mom, you, and your brother were still alive. Everyone thought all of you died in the tornado."

"And you didn't question the fact that you looked nothing like your twin brother?"

"Dude." He stares at me, and I flush. "Did you? Maybe get off your throne and hang out down here with the peasants."

I rub my hands in my pants. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm not really good with people."

"That's fine," he says in a voice that tells me it isn't. "But it's not an excuse for thinking you're better than us. It was chance circumstances that Cage was the one switched. It could've been you. Hell, it could've been me. Like it or not, we're all family. Brothers."

I smile, not sure I'm willing to share my thoughts with him.

"What? Come on, brother. Out with it."

"Dom and Cage don't act brotherly."

A laugh bursts out of him. "No. From what I hear, they're driving Paxton crazy."

Has he been talking to Paxton? Texting him?

His bottles of polish are in a case, arranged by color. Like a rainbow. It's beautiful. It distracts me for a second as I figure out how to get the information I want. "I have another question."

"Go on, spit it out."

"It's about the medallion."

"Cage's medallion?" He picks out an orange, holds it up to the light, and returns it to the stack. "The one with our zodiac sign on it?" His eyes cut to mine.

"Yes."

He nods. Picking out a turquoise color, he shakes the bottle and paints a perfect stripe on the green. "Cage left the thing when he moved out."

"When he was living with Erik?"

He stops, the brush midway from the bottle, and huffs as if I'm the most annoying person on the planet. Many think that is a correct assessment. But not Erik. Not always. And those thoughts keep me going. "They were college roommates. There was never anything between them. You get that, right?"

I nod. Still not totally convinced.

"So, no. When he moved all his stuff out of the bakery. He was in charge, and he left."

"Why?"

He shakes his head. "It's like you haven't been paying attention."

"To be fair. There's been a lot going on."

Tor laughs. "True." He finishes the stripes on his nails and dries them under the heater. "Cage wanted to start his own catering business. He's always wanted more than the small-town life. He has big dreams. But Erik thinks he left Mom high and dry without notice."

"Did he?"

"Not entirely. He talked to Mom about it. But Erik is loyal to a fault. And…there were probably hurt feelings involved."

Erik's anger from this morning now makes sense. "Did he leave the medallion on purpose?"

He shrugs. "Doubtful. He loved that necklace. Mom gave both of us one. Erik took it as another slight against Mom and refused to give it back. He even pawned it. Not because he wanted the money. Just to piss Cage off. He succeeded."

"But then he gave it back to him," I point out. "Well, me. But he thought I was Cage."

Tor laughs and shakes his head. "You really are clueless, aren't you?"

"That's rather rude." Although entirely accurate.

"Erik would've never given Cage that necklace back. Never. The only reason he returned it was because of you."

"But that doesn't make sense. He didn't know it was me."

"Doesn't matter. You aren't the same Cage that left."

Is that true? Relief helps settle my nerves. Erik did have a crush on Cage. He'd admitted as much. But maybe I have a chance. I smile at the thought.

"Dude." Tor shakes an expertly painted nail at me. "You've got it bad."

"What?"

He leans closer. "Are you going to deny you're in love with Erik?"

"Deny? No." I smile. "Tell you? Also, no."

He laughs. "I like you, Xander. I hope things work out."

I laugh. "Thanks."

Tor shoos me away so he can focus, and I head to the backyard. He has a beautiful willow tree. No bench, but I spot a lawn chair near the house and pull it over. The bark is rough against my palm. I pull a willow branch through my fingers. It's very relaxing. How hard would it be to get a willow tree in Chicago? I make the call before I can chicken out.

"What's wrong?" Paxton asks as soon as he answers.

"Everything's fine.

"Not everything," he says with a smirk in his voice. Either it's very apparent, or I'm getting better at this. "You're calling me."

"True, but it was a mistake."

"Hold on, Xander. Is this about that Erik guy?"

"Yes. I…" I shut my eyes and say the words I'm dreading. "How can I get him to trust me again? Get him back?"

"Are you alone?"

Why is he asking that? "Yes. Tor is in the house."

Paxton takes a deep breath. "I'll help you, Xander. But I want something in return."

I don't have anything, but I also have nothing to lose. "Fine. What do you want?"

"The scoop on the brat."

"The brat?"

He huffs in frustration. "The hottie."

"Paxton."

"For fuck's sake. Tor."

"Oh." Oh. "I don't know him that well."

"Get to know him." His voice lowers, dropping some of its bloated confidence. "Anything you can find out will be helpful. Does he date a lot? Have a boyfriend?"

"I don't think he does. But I'll see what I can find out."

"Don't be obvious… You know what? Never mind."

"I can do this. Now help me with Erik. I'm not sure if he really likes me or Cage."

"Is that it? It's obvious he likes you. Jesus, I feel like I'm in high school again."

"You started it," I remind him.

"You called me," he says with a growl. "And don't sell yourself short, kid. He likes you. He gave you that necklace. Not Cage. Hold on. Maybe that's the answer."

"What do you mean?"

"Give him something."

"Like a gift?"

"Yeah. Something special that shows you care."

Excitement builds as I think about the idea. Can I do this? "Thank you, Paxton."

"Remember our deal."

After hanging up, I return to the house and find Tor in the living room typing on a laptop. "Tor, I might need your help."

When I tell him my plan, he claps his hands together. "Oh goody. It's time to shop."

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1 P.M.

Clinton smiles and waves when I return to the bakery. It's early afternoon, and I wonder if this kid has school. Surely, he's not eighteen.

"Hi, Clinton.

"Hi. I'm so glad you're back." He grins. And he's vibrating with excitement.

"What's going on?"

"Ask me again."

"What's—"

"No." He shakes his head and his hands. "What you asked me this morning. Ask me again."

I try to think back. My brain has been focused on Erik most of the morning. Oh, right. "What's good here?"

He beams. "Erik let me try stuff so I could answer that question."

That's so sweet. I nod sagely. "And what did you decide?"

"Dude, it was hard. Everything is so freaking good. But my favorite? Cherry cheesecake."

Maybe Clinton will work out. "You've sold me. I'll take one."

His face falls. "We're out. I've been recommending it all day."

I laugh. "You might need to try more things. Make a list."

"Good idea." He grabs a notepad. Is he writing down my suggestion? He tears off the note and waves it at me. "Thanks, dude. You're always so helpful."

Always? "Do I know you?"

He laughs. "You were in here this morning."

I wave him off. "No. Before today."

He shrugs. "I don't know. I just saw you almost every single day of my childhood since you were always at our house. But who knows if I know you."

"I was at hour house every day?" Who is this kid?

"Well, yeah. Don't you remember?"

What do I say to that? "I?—"

"What did I tell you about harassing my employees?" Erik is right behind Clinton, and the kid jumps at his voice.

"Hey, bro. Cage gave me another good idea."

"Xander." Both Erik and I say it at the same time.

"Right." He grins again. "Xander."

Erik shakes his head fondly and motions for me to follow him back.

"Keep up the good work," I say in a low voice.

Clinton gives me a thumbs-up. He's a cute kid.

Erik leans against the counter. "You're early. You said two."

"I asked if you could have Mom here at two. Not that I was coming at two. And now I wish I'd come earlier before all the cherry cheesecake was gone."

"Clinton's eager." He laughs. "A little too eager."

"He's a good kid."

He shakes his head again at my words and crosses his arms. "Trust you, right." He takes a deep breath. "Why are you here? An hour early?"

The speech I rehearsed on the way here seems stupid now. Does Erik care about me? Or Cage? Erik had a crush on Cage. How can I compete with that? "I wanted to talk to you."

Erik rolls his hand impatiently. "So, talk." I hesitate and he makes an inpatient noise and pushes off the counter. "I'm going to work while you talk."

"Are you the only one here?"

"Clinton. Remember him?" But he's smiling. Joking with me.

"Yes. But it's his first day."

"Mom wouldn't let him help until he got his grades up."

"Mom…" For a second, I think he means Callie.

"My mom. Not your mom. I have a mom, Xander. You've met here many times."

I don't challenge his statement. "Clinton is your brother."

"Is this the part where you continue pretending we haven't known each other all our lives? Or are you going to tell me what's going on?" He rolls out a ball of dough on the table. The clock above the large stove shows I've wasted twenty minutes.

My pulse shoots up, and it's harder to think. Where are the words I rehearsed? Why is there only one thing in my head? I try to push it down, but it doesn't want to stay there.

"Jesus, Xander." He pounds on the dough. His pink shirt that matches the bakery logo stretches over the strong muscles in his back as he works. "Say something."

"I love you."

His movements stop. Then he shakes his head. "Anything but that."

"You don't believe me?"

He slaps the rolling pin down and turns to face me. The anger on his face has me backing up. I thought he might laugh at me. Sneer at me. But he's angry. Why? "You…" He shakes his head. "We've actually had this conversation before. It was horrible. One star. Do not recommend."

"I don't understand. I've told you I loved you? I mean, Cage?—"

"The other way around. I—why are you doing this?" His eyes are haunted.

I thought it was a crush. But he loved Cage. Maybe still does. "Do you still love…still feel that way about him. That guy?"

He stands taller. Defiant. "No. I don't. At all."

Relief floods through me, and I can't keep the smile off my face. I hope it doesn't look creepy. "Good."

"Good? That I don't love you?"

"No." I laugh, almost giddy. "That you don't love him. The me from before."

He puts his hands on his hips, adding flour to his apron. "I don't love this new you either," he says, but not as emphatically.

"But you trust me." His mouth opens, and I add before he challenges my words, "You're arranging for Mom to be here."

His eyes soften. "I shouldn't. Not after everything."

"I'm sorry you were treated like that." I want to hug him. Touch him. Brush the flour off his cheek. Wipe the pain from his eyes.

"Xander. I don't know if I can do this again. Want you. Love you."

"Just…please don't rule it out." Before he can tell me to fuck off, I reach into my pocket and pull out the present. "I got this for you."

He doesn't move and barely glances at the present. I walk over and hold it out to him. His gaze darts from my hand back to my face.

"Erik, please."

"Just wait, okay." He leaves me standing with my hand out as he walks over to the sink. He washes and dries his hands and returns. "You didn't have to do this," he says as he takes the bag and pulls the jewelry out. A black corded bracelet with purple stones. "Amethyst. My birthstone."

"Tor told me your birthdate…" I let my words hang there. Cage already knows his birthday. Tor also talked me down from buying something expensive.

He shakes his head, but he's smiling. "Can you help me put it on?"

"Of course." My hands shake as I help clasp the bracelet. The brush of my fingers on his skin sends tingles of excitement through my body, and I fumble it more than once. I want to hold him in my arms. Kiss him again.

"It's beautiful." His eyes catch mine, and I can't look away.

I take a chance. Very unlike me. I brush my fingers over the side of his face, my thumb caressing his cheek. As I lean in, his hand settles on my hip. He's not pushing me away. I kiss him, softly at first. But it quickly changes into a fire I can't control. Erik pulls me closer as our mouths connect. Sloppy kisses with zero finesse but so much want.

"Erik?" We jump apart as a woman comes through the door. She looks just like Dom. This time, I notice things I didn't before. Her bright-green eyes have dark circles underneath. Her raised chin has a few freckles. "Hello, Cage."

I smile, sure this time I'm getting it wrong. The wariness in her eyes tells me more than Erik or Tor ever could. Her relationship with Cage still isn't good. "Hi…" I can't bring myself to call her mom. It feels like a lie.

She wraps her arms around herself. "A little warning, Erik?"

"Sorry, Cal. But he…was persistent."

"I can see that."

Erik flushes. Is he embarrassed to be caught kissing me? Probably not. But Cage. Definitely. "Cal…"

She waves her hand. "Some things never change."

"You're early," I say, checking the clock. One forty-five.

"You're lucky I'm here at all. If I'd known—" Her eyes cut to Erik again. She sighs. "Being early is how I roll. It shouldn't surprise you."

I'm not prepared for this. Talking to her. "It shouldn't." I've never been comfortable looking in someone's eyes. It feels like too much. Callie is no different.

"What's this about Cage?"

I want to ask her to wait. The others will be here soon. But I can't do that. "You're more beautiful than I remember." My face heats up. From behind her, Erik stares at me and mouths, "What the fuck?"

"Thank you?" She shifts her stance. "Why are you acting so strange?"

I catch and hold her gaze. She deserves the truth or some version of it. "I don't know what to say to you."

"You're being awkward, Xander. Stop it," Erik says, and I wish not being awkward was a choice for me. He goes to the refrigerator and grabs a bottle of water. He holds it up in question, and I shake my head. The only thing I want is him. He offers one to Callie and she also declines. Erik downs a third of the bottle, and I have to look away. Getting an erection in front of your…supposed mom is not a good idea.

Callie watches us both with narrowed eyes. After a few awkward moments she gives me a sad smile. "I'm sorry about the baking competition."

"Why?"

She laughs in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Your bakery won. No need to apologize for that."

"You're…different. Did you go to therapy or something?"

I choke out a laugh. I'm the improved version after therapy? That makes me happy. "Thank you."

She laughs again and looks at Erik. He shrugs.

I smile again, and this one feels real. "I can see why Mom cares about and loves you so much."

Her breath catches. "What?"

The doors swing open and Clinton rushes in, his eyes bulging. "Um….people…out there." His eyes dart to me and then back to his brother.

"Then why are you in here?"

"People…" He waves his arms. "Out there."

"We'll take it from here, squirt," Tor says, striding into the room with a wide grin. He pats Clinton on the head, and the kid's cheeks get bright red. I don't need to check his nails to know this isn't the brother I was raised with. "Hey, Mom." He kisses Callie on the cheek. "Bro." He winks at me.

"Hey, sweetie." The worry lines disappear as she gently touches his cheek. "First Cage and now you. Is this a family reunion?" She laughs. How long has it been since Xander and Tor were at the bakery together? Probably a long time.

"It is, Mom. It definitely is. One that's long overdue."

She nods, but a line between her brows tells me she's still not sure what's going on. "I've missed you both."

"Longer than that. Maybe go back twenty-five years."

"What? Tor?—"

He takes her hands, his expression serious for once. "You've been through so much. I never realized." He swallows and smiles again. "We have a surprise for you." He glances over at Erik. "For all of you."

Erik shifts on his feet as he darts a look from Tor to me and back. "What's going on?"

"You'll see."

"God. Enough with the theatrics, Tor." This isn't part of the plan. But I have a feeling Tor does whatever he wants.

He winks again and says in a louder voice, "Time to start the party. Xander's getting agitated."

"I'm not?—"

The door swings open, and Callie gasps as Cage walks in with a sheepish grin. He goes around Tor and kisses Callie on the cheek. "Hey, Mom."

"Cage, but—" Her eyes meet mine, and I don't look away. Her eyes widen. "Xander?"

"Yes." I swallow the lump in my throat and sneak a look at Erik. He's staring at Cage and me as if he's seen a ghost.

"I don't understand," Erik says, his voice going higher. "What's going on?"

"Oh, it gets better." Tor is obviously enjoying this. "Ready for the next contestant on This is Your Life ?"

"Tor, stop being an ass," Dom says as he enters the room.

"What? I didn't want another Dottie incident. No one's allowed to faint."

"Are you…Dominic?" Callie whispers. Her hands cover her mouth as tears stream down her face. "How?" Her gaze goes to the door. "Is Sophia—" She breaks off.

"She's okay." Dom holds her arms and nods. "She's alive."

"Oh, thank God."

Dom wraps his arms around her. "So happy to finally meet you, Mom."

"Erik?" Clinton asks, sounding panicked. "What in the heck is going on?"

"Not sure. Does someone want to explain this?"

"I can explain." Somehow, I missed my mother entering the room. She looks radiant. No trace of sadness on her face. "Hello, Callie."

"Sophia. I thought you'd—the tornado?—"

"I know. So much time lost. And our boys…" She looks around the room. "I can't believe this is real."

Paxton and Lucinda stand in the back, out of the way. Everyone moves as Mom approaches Callie and pulls her into an embrace. I blink back tears, although everyone else seems to have the same problem. Everyone but Erik.

"Still waiting for an explanation," he says softly, but with a lot of sass.

I grab his hand. "Come on," I say, leading him to the garden. "I can explain everything."

It's a perfect fall day. Not too hot and not yet cold. I pull him over to the bench. "My mom is Sophia," I say, in case he missed that part. "She and Callie were friends—pregnant at the same time. Each of them had a set of identical twins. They didn't know that. Anyway, they gave birth on the same day in the same hospital?—"

"How?"

"I'm not sure. I think they planned it."

He accepts that explanation with a nod. "Go on."

"You know about the tornado. Dom and Cage accidentally got switched?—"

"Did they really give their kids the same names?"

I give him a mock glare. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Sorry. Go on."

"The rest is self-explanatory. We were raised as brothers. Fraternal twins. And before you ask, I don't think Callie or Mom knew they had the wrong children. Or if they did, they accepted us as their own. And here we are."

"Here we are." Erik shakes his head. "So, everything you told me was true? You were never with Ren."

"No. I've never been with anyone before you. Zero experience." I'm not embarrassed by that anymore. "You're the only one."

"So I had no reason to hate you." He takes my hand.

"You didn't know."

"And you love me?"

I touch his face. "I do."

He kisses me, and the fear surrounding my heart breaks free. I let myself believe this is real. "I was such an idiot. But I couldn't believe my own heart. It's lied before."

"It may take you a while. You loved Cage. But I'll wait until you tell me to go away."

"That will never happen. Not now that I know the truth." He kisses me again. "I never loved Cage. I thought I did. But he never made me feel like this. You may be identical, but you're nothing alike."

"So what do we do now?" I wait for the inevitable letdown. I have my hopes too high.

"Now, we go back and celebrate with your family. Then, after an appropriate amount of time, I hope to get you alone—really alone—so we can tick off some more firsts for you."

"Really?"

He kisses me again. This one is slow and sweet and reaches every inch of my heart, clearing away the doubt and fear. "You're nothing like him. Your brother is a good person. I can even understand his motives now. But not the right person for me."

"And I am?"

"And you are." And then he proves it by kissing me until I can barely remember my own name.

The party includes baked goods and stories shared by both of the families. I love being surrounded by my moms and brothers—and Paxton is okay too—but all I really want is to mark off firsts with Erik. In this instance, being a person known for avoiding people comes in handy. And I may snap at Paxton one too many times.

"Reached your limit?" Dom asks with a knowing smile.

"Yes," Erik says. "Definitely. Oh, you meant Xander." He grins at me. "I think we both need some time away from people."

"Sure." Paxton winks. "That's the reason."

We say our goodbyes, which takes more time than I want, and walk to Erik's house. Thankfully, he lives on his own and not with his parents. And not with Clinton.

The house is a cute cottage-style one-story. Erik shows me around, looking embarrassed. "It's not much," he says as he gives me a tour of the kitchen. It's homey and warm. Nothing like our big kitchen at home. And as much as I enjoy a kitchen with all the gadgets, I like this more.

"I love it."

"You don't have to say that."

"I know." I pull him into my arms. "In fact, you'll find I'm not good at pleasantries. Or sugar-coating anything. Except when I'm baking. But that's not the point."

He kisses me. "You're adorable."

"I am?"

"No one has told you that before?" He studies me. "That surprises me."

"Not adorable. I've been called irritating. Frustrating. A fucking idiot."

"Was that me? God, I hope not."

Time to distract him. "Erik, was there something you wanted to show me?"

His brow crinkles. "The house?"

I shake my head. "You said something about firsts?" My face heats.

"I did." He tightens his arms around me. "What have you done so far?"

"I had this amazing blowjob by a cute guy. Bakes amazing cheesecake."

He laughs and pulls me to the hallway. "I think I can top that."

I wait until we're in his room to speak. It's small but nice. Warm colors that match him. "Did you mean the top comment literally?"

He brushes my hair from my face. Can he tell how nervous I am? His hands are reassuring. Caring but also exciting. "No. Not literally. What would you like, Xander? Do you want me to top?"

I stare at his beige carpet because I can't look him in the eyes. "I don't know. I've never done either."

He tips my chin up with his finger. "Do you practice?"

"Practice? Oh, you mean do I masturbate?"

He laughs, and my face feels like I'm inside a pizza oven. He kisses the corner of my mouth. "No frowning, sweetheart. Do you touch yourself, Xander?"

"Yes." My voice is barely a whisper.

"God, that's hot. Have you…inserted anything?"

My eyes dart to his face as my pulse speeds up. "No…except my fingers."

His hand strokes my back lightly, and now my entire body is on fire. "Plural. More than one?"

I don't point out that plural is more than one. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod.

"Sounds like you want to bottom. Would you like me inside you?"

I breathe in sharply. "Yes. Please. Can we make that happen?" Do I sound too eager? Too pathetic?

"Fuck, yeah." He kisses me hard, and I forget about being embarrassed. About being too much. I enjoy his mouth on mine. The tangle of our tongues. His hard body. "I want to make this good for you, baby," he says against my mouth. "But I want you so much. Please tell me if I need to stop or slow down."

"I will." But I can't imagine wanting him to stop. Ever.

He kisses me again and pulls off my shirt. My nipples harden at his gaze, and he watches my face as he brushes his thumb over it—pleasure surges through me, and I gasp for breath. He does it again. And again. "Do you touch yourself here, Xander?"

"No," I admit.

He kisses my cheek, and I can feel his smile. "You're missing out."

"Not anymore."

His eyes lock on mine. "Not anymore." Then his mouth clamps down on my nipple, and I clutch the back of his head with a moan. I need him closer. He sucks on one nipple and then the other. And I'm already a needy mess.

"Can I…taste you?" I ask.

"Absolutely." He practically tears his shirt off, exposing his broad chest with a dusting of blond hair.

I waste no time, afraid I might talk myself out of it. I kiss his collarbone and trail my lips down his breastbone. I brush my thumb over the hard peak of his nipple, and he gasps. I want to touch him all over. And I'm suddenly overwhelmed.

"Sweetheart?" He tips my head up. "Are you okay?"

God. I'm fucking this up. "Yes."

"Just focus on me. On my voice." At my nod, he says, "Do you want to lie down?"

"Yes."

He leads me over to the bed. And before he can ask, I shimmy out of my pants and briefs. I watch as he does the same. God. His body is so beautiful. My eyes are drawn to his already hard cock. How will all of that fit in me?

"We don't have to do anything you don't want," Erik says, and I'm amazed that he can read me so well. It's easier not having to explain things. "Let's just explore each other, for now. Okay?"

"Yes." Is that the only word I can say? "God, yes."

He chuckles and pulls me onto the bed. Once we're facing each other, he touches me. My arms. My back. My ass. My stomach. And then, when I can't stand it anymore, my cock. I make unintelligible sounds as he strokes me.

I don't want him to stop, but I don't want it to be over either. "Erik."

"Do whatever you want, Xander. Whatever feels good."

"You feel good."

I push him back on the bed and lay my body over his. And God, why didn't I do this sooner? Our bodies touching. Our cocks touching. I thrust against him, needing more friction. I hear myself whine, but I can't seem to stop.

"Tell me what you want, Xander."

"You inside me." The words are soft.

"Are you sure?"

I look in his eyes. "Yes. Please?"

He nods and flips us over so he's on top. When he moves against me, I fling my head back in pleasure because, unlike me, Erik knows what he's doing.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Hold on." He leans over to grab supplies. And it's suddenly real. Exciting. Terrifying. "Pull your legs back." He shows me, and I grab the back of my thighs to hold myself open and exposed to his hungry eyes. "Fuck, so hot. I may not last."

His finger touches me. Down my crack. Brushing briefly over my hole. While I appreciate his tender care, I've done this much before.

"Need your fingers inside me. Please."

He groans and rubs his thumb against my hole. My body opens for him easily, and he slips a finger inside. I didn't mention my practicing has been mostly over the last few days as I've imagined Erik fucking me. "Yes. More, please."

"Oh my holy fuck." Erik adds another finger, hitting the spot that has me jerking off the bed. "There it is," he says, sounding proud of himself. When three of Erik's fingers are easily sliding in and out, I need more.

"You, Erik. I want you."

Erik kisses my mouth hard before rolling on the condom and adding lube. I feel empty without his fingers. Without something to fill me. And then his cock is lined up at my hole. I start to shake. Need? Adrenaline? Fear? I don't know, but I don't want him to stop.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Fine. Please."

His kiss is sweet and loving, and then it turns needy and frantic as he pushes into me. The feeling of being full is strange but good. The panic is there on the edge. Worry that all of him won't fit.

I push the worry away. Erik knows what he's doing. He'll fit.

I can do this. Overcome my fear.

"Deep breaths, babe. You're doing so well for me. And you're so fucking sexy, Xander." I relax my muscles, and he slides the rest of the way in.

Then I need him to move.

"Ready?" he asks. At my frantic nod, he slides in and out. My pleasure builds until I need more.

"More, Erik. Faster."

He grabs my hand, threads our fingers together, and pounds into me faster and faster until I can't take it anymore. I need to let go.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Come for me." His hand strokes my cock, and I can't hold back as my release sprays over my body.

Erik tightens above me, his cock swelling inside me as he lets go.

Afterward, we clean up and Erik pulls me close. "Is this okay?"

It's more touching than I'm used to, but for now, it's…nice. "Another first for me," I say, stroking his chest. "I've never cuddled before."

He kisses me softly. "You're in luck. I'm the best cuddler in the world."

"How would I know if that was true?"

He grins. "I guess you have to take my word for it."

I sigh. I wish I could've lasted longer. "There's so much I want to do with you."

"Xander. We have all night."

"True."

"And more than that," he says. "We have the rest of our lives."

"We do?" I search his eyes.

"Idiot."

"I get called that a lot." I settle back on his chest. Content.

"I love you, Xander Cage Marchetti. You. No one else."

His words bring back the caterpillars. "What if I'm too much?"

He kisses me. "You never have to change for me. I love you for who you are. And, Xander?"

"Yes?"

"You will never be too much."