LEVEL 16

PLAYER ONE: REMY

I lied a little.

Just a little.

I’d heard the whole conversation Fauna had with Prue. Look, my set had just ended, I could blend into a crowd, and I sure as hell would protect my girl. But Fauna didn’t need protecting. She’d worked out a spy-level mission with Trevor, and they were damn cute when they conspired together. Images flashed through my mind of Christmas pranks in the big house: the mayhem they’d inflict on Watson, the drunken joy my mother would experience, the eye rolls from my father. When I married Fauna, they’d gain one hell of a daughter.

The morning after my show, Fauna left for her shift at the animal shelter. Trevor inspected the fridge like he always did, expecting it to somehow magically sprout more than just a mustard containers, beer, and an empty pickle jar. He reached in his pocket and tossed me a set of keys. “The car is fixed, by the way. You take it tonight; the guys are picking me up for the game.” He paused. “What are you up to?”

That was twin brother, I’m-too-cool-to-outright-ask-speak for, ‘ Are you coming to my game? Did you remember? ’

“I don’t really have any plans…” I leaned on the counter and peeled an orange. “You know, except for watching a bunch of dumb jocks kick a ball around.”

Trev’s shoulders relax slightly. “Thanks. At least the most important person in my family will be there.”

“And the best looking.”

He punched my arm just as a car honked its horn from the street below. “See you later.”

I checked my watch—seven in the morning. His game would be in the afternoon; plenty of time to do some scheming of my own. Our car vroomed to life, and I rolled down the row of fenced trees, passed tiny designer dogs, and beeped the intercom at the grand front gate.

“Name?” buzzed through the speakers.

“Liz Bien.”

Watson paused. “We don’t have a Liz Bien on the visitor list today. What is your purpose here?”

“No? Liz Bien from Scissor City isn’t on the list? Anyway, pizza delivery. Large pineapple and pepperoni. I’ve got Mr. Monroe’s chiseled jawline along with his savvy business sense.”

There was a long pause, and I swore, if you could audibly hear an eye roll, you could have heard Watson’s annoyance through the little metal box. The gates swung open. “Welcome home, Remy.”

“Hey, that’s Liz Bien to you, Watson.”

I didn’t bother knocking; I walked right in past an aghast butler and down the hall to my dad’s office. The staff all turned to gawk as I bounded into my dad’s favorite room. He looked up from behind his desk with a puzzled expression. “Jeffrey, I’m going to have to call you back.” He let out a heavy exhale. “What can I do for you, Remy?”

My attention caught on a pyramid paperweight on a bookshelf. Picking it up and weighing it in my palm, I casually strolled Dad’s stuffy office. “You know, I have this really clear memory from my childhood. Me and Trev were seven. I stole a Swiss Army knife from Watson. He left it on the counter, and I swiped it and scurried up with Trevor to our treehouse.”

“I’m sure Watson forgives you.”

“Don’t you remember what happened? Of course, you don’t. Well, me and Trev were opening and closing all the gadgets over and over. Trev was holding it when Mom called up to us that dinner was ready. I panicked, thinking we’d been found out, and quickly went to close all the open blades, not realizing Trev’s finger was in the way.”

“Yes, I vaguely remember you two stumbling into my office crying.”

“I felt horrible that I’d hurt him. You remember what you did?”

“I gather you’re going to tell me.”

Stopping by Dad’s giant oak desk, I sat the paperweight down. “You scolded me for being irresponsible , but you punished Trevor and sent him to our room for being careless .”

Dad leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers against the wood. “My day is stacked with meetings, Remy. You know my work week begins on Sundays. Can you get to the point?”

“That sums us up to you, doesn’t it? I’m irresponsible—wrecking the car, dropping out of school to tattoo, peppering my body with all the ink and holes I can find. It’s irresponsible, but it’s working out for me. Like you said at dinner, you respect my work ethic and ingenuity. Hell, that was news to me.”

Mr. Monroe folded his hands in his lap, impatient for me to continue so he could get back to his phone call about Parisian quartz or Japanese marble.

Leaning forward, I explained, “Trevor, to you, is careless. The dude’s really smart, great grades, the star athlete on his soccer team—but you’ve never thought it was enough. There’s no money in it. He doesn’t want to follow in your footsteps and peddle countertops. He wants to kick a ball around and study what-the-fuck ever in college. Carless, right?”

Dad straightened his tie. “There’s truth to my assessment, is there not?”

“No, you see, you’re right about me. I’m irresponsible, reckless, impulsive. I’m a self-absorbed asshole half the time. I get that from my dad.” Dad huffed, but I carried on. “But you’re wrong about Trevor. He cares. He cares a lot , about everybody. Me, his team, helping anyone who’s going through something tough, like he helped Fauna, however unconventional that ordeal was. And, for some crazy reason I’ll never understand, he cares what you think of him.”

The phone rang, and I reached over, picked it up, and dropped it back on the receiver, holding up a finger to silence my dad’s fury. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to cancel your day, shuffle your shiny penny loafers down this long, overly vacuumed and dusted hall and into my mustang that smells like nacho cheese, and we, father-dearest, are going to my brother’s, your son’s, soccer finale—series ending—what the fuck ever kind of important sports ball game it is.”

My father rubbed his temple. Surely, a migraine was already budding through even the briefest of interactions with me. “Remy, I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

“Dad, I swear to God, if you don’t get in my goddamn car… When you die, I will book an immediate flight to Vegas, gamble every scent of my inheritance, this house included, and get tied up with whatever mob runs the casinos. They’ll come after Mom looking for me, and they’ll take your business as collateral, and we’ll all be subject to their criminal whims?—“

“Okay, alright, enough with the theatrics. God, you are as histrionic as your mother.” He stood. “Let’s go see this game that is so important. I can spare an hour for lunch.”

Super, and I mean super , fucking pleased with myself, I drove us to the game. My father looked like a penguin in the desert, an elephant in a tree, or any sort of an animal doesn’t fit here scenario you can think of. He was silent on the drive, except to remark that my car did, in fact, smell like nacho cheese. Damn, I spilt my Taco Bell order one time , and I’ll forever be cursed by its ghost haunting my otherwise spotless interior.

“Is it always this…populated?” Dad asked as we found our seats by Fauna in the stands.

Fauna waved and smiled at my dad as I wrapped my arm around her. “Hi, Mr. Monroe. Yes, it’s always this busy. Everyone’s here to see Trevor, though: scouts, national teams. He’s the one to watch.”

“Your hair is pink,” Dad answered plainly.

Fauna nodded. “Yep, it’s my favorite color.”

“Mine too,” I added.

The crowd stood and roared in applause as Trevor’s team jogged onto the field. Dad crossed his arms and shuffled on the bleachers before checking his watch.

Fauna whispered in my ear, “How about I go get us some slushies?”

I pulled out my wallet and tried to shove cash at her, but she refused, bouncing away to fetch drinks my Dom Pérignon champagne father would surely turn his nose up at.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I searched for a neutral topic to pass the time. “So…Mom’s in Berlin?”

Dad rubbed his chin, leaning forward with his gaze fixed on the field. “Some film festival” He stood abruptly. “That’s a yellow card!” he shouted. “For Christ’s sake, is the ref asleep out there?”

Fauna appeared, and I took my slushy in shock. “Dad, you…know soccer?”

“Know it? Liverpool has been my team since college. Your mother took me to a home game in England when we were dating, though it’s been some time since I’ve watched, being that I work every Sunday and that’s when—offsides!”

“Who is this person? What the hell is happening?” I asked Fauna, checking to make sure she was witnessing this as well.

She giggled and passed my dad a slushy, which he accepted. “Trevor’s had eighteen goal involvements this season. He’s remarkable.”

“Eighteen?” My dad took a sip of blue slushy. “That’s unheard of for college ball.”

Fauna tugged at me to move and switched seats with me so she could…talk to my dad. What universe was this again? “You should have seen him at playoffs. Five goals in ten minutes. He slaughtered them. I have it on video if you want me to send it to you?”

They both quit mid-phone exchange to yell in unison, “Shoot it!”

“Shoot what?” I asked. Fauna shoved me, and I laughed.

“He’s offsides.” My dad put his hands on his head.

“He can do it. Go Trevor!” Fauna yelled, jumping up and down and clapping.

My brain was befuddled, confounded; somehow, I’d jumped timelines again. Trevor was apparently killing it on the field, I’d gotten my dad to come, and he was drinking blue food coloring and inputting his phone number and email into my girlfriend’s rhinestone-covered phone. Not only that, but he was also cheering—my father, Mr. Businessman Monroe, had actually pulled his head out of his ass for an afternoon, and I was there to witness it.

Half-time started, which is apparently a break in the middle of the game, or so Dad and Fauna needlessly explained. Sounds pretty self-explanatory to me, but I didn’t give them hell about it, especially as my twin sense pinged and I looked up and caught Trevor’s glance on the field. He glanced at me and to Dad, and his mouth dropped open before patting his teammate on the back and jogging over to the stands. When he made it up the bleachers, he stopped, as if approaching an unpredictable wild animal. Or maybe he thought he was seeing a ghost. I covered my mouth to hide my satisfaction in pulling my own scheme over on my twin.

“Um…” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. “Hi, Dad.”

My father put his hand on my brother’s shoulder and smiled. “Son, that is some fine sportsmanship out there. Really, I haven’t had this much fun at a game since I was a young boy. But watch the other team’s center back the ref is ignoring. I don’t trust that kid.”

Trevor glanced at me with a what the fuck expression, and I shrugged with a half grin. He was happy. “Yeah, good advice, Dad. I’ll do that. I, uh, better get back on the field. Stay and say bye after?”

“Stay?” My dad arched an eyebrow. “I’m hosting the victory party, son. Invite the team and all your friends to the house. I’ll call Watson to bring in a full-service staff.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Serious as death, Trev. Now, get back out there.”

Trevor’s smile reached his eyes, and he cleared his throat of emotion. “Okay, thanks, Dad.”

Dad wasn’t just being optimistic when he declared we’d celebrate the team’s victory. They rocked the other team, Trevor was swarmed with scouts, attention, and praise for his hard work. He fucking deserved it— and Dad didn’t deserve to be a part of it, but his presence made my twin happy, and my father was suddenly being very supportive, so I guess it worked out.

Back at the house, the gate was wide open, welcoming an onslaught of jocks and sports people, fans… I’ll be honest, I didn’t know who any of those people were. But Trevor did, and this party was about him.

I popped open a beer on the side of my dad’s prized jade table while he regaled a group of listeners about some grand soccer game in Barcelona. Fauna nuzzled at my shoulder while I watched Dad wrap a proud arm around Trev and give him a squeeze.

“What has happened to my father?” I asked in awe.

Fauna giggled. “Game day is a powerful, magical thing.”

“You are a powerful, magical thing. I’m thinking you must have put some of your V for Valin witch-potion into that slushy you handed Dad.”

“I’ll never give up my secrets.”

Party-goers blazed through the pizzas and beer, and Trevor soaked up the well-deserved attention from our father. I was mildly irritated because this is the treatment he always should have received, but hell, better late than never. A familiar voice hummed next to me, a hand grabbing a beer from the bucket of ice I guarded.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Mary Jane smiled.

I clinked my bottle with hers. “Didn’t know you owned a pair of jeans or shoes without heels. My, how running off with my brother has changed you.”

“My, how stealing your brother’s girlfriend has kept you exactly the same, Remy.” Mary Jane smirked and took a sip from her bottle.

“Why mess with perfection? Anyway, how are the kids?”

“With the co-parent. Speaking of parents, Mr. Monroe seems…”

“Like he’s had a personality transplant? Yeah, sure does.”

Mary Jane laughed. She seemed relaxed, way more at ease than she ever was with me.

I admitted after a pause. “I wasn’t a good, you know, whatever , to you. I’m sorry for that.”

“You weren’t, that’s true. But I wasn’t exactly honorable in my actions either.”

I nudged her with my elbow. “Honor is overrated. Doing what makes you happy is braver. I mean, look at me. I have zero shame.”

Fauna nuzzled into my arm. “And aren’t we all so thankful for that? Hey, Mary Jane.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and the party thinned into the den, where all the jocks and my dad watched old soccer gameplays. I escaped to the solace of the night-cooled trunk of the backyard treehouse when my twin joined me soon after.

“Congrats on your big win,” I said.

Trevor pulled out a flask. “That was a fun game.”

“Oh, I meant in earning our father’s love. The soccer stuff, sure, obviously that’s cool.”

My brother’s hearty laugh was probably one of the reasons I focused on humor. Making him laugh always felt like an achievement.

He took a sip from the flask. “He only came because you made him. I know that. But thank you for whatever you had to do to make this all happen. You mean…a lot to me, Remy.”

I cleared my throat of emotion; I really didn’t feel like crying. Instead, I took a gulp of bourbon. “I’ll switch my favorite-child status with you anytime, bro.”

“That’s not all we switched.” He nodded toward where Fauna and Mary Jane were speaking with Watson. They giggled together across the lawn before Watson handed them something and they approached us.

Fauna handed me a flashlight. “You left us alone for far too long with your butler.”

“Oh, no,” Trevor laughed, taking a flashlight from Mary Jane before kissing her forehead. “He didn’t tell you about that game, did he?”

MJ clicked her flashlight to life. “Let’s see if you’re faster than me, soccer star.”

“What are the rules?” Fauna asked.

I twirled my flashlight and gave her ponytail a playful tug. “The number one rule is not crying too hard after I win. Flashlight tag is kind of my specialty.”

We scattered, laughing, sliding in the grass, and playing flashlight tag like we were all dumb little kids again. Watson and Dad stopped by to watch for a while as the sun sank lower and stars dotted the sky. I ducked behind the tree trunk and leapt out, making Fauna scream in delight before picking her up and dragging her over my shoulder.

She protested, but I shushed her as I held her and climbed up the tree house, dropping her on the old wood floor. “My prisoner now,” I purred as she rose up on her elbows.

“Remy, we can’t,” she argued, out of breath. “Your whole family is down there right now.”

“Not true.” I crawled on top of her and kissed her neck. “My mom’s in Berlin.”

“You know what I mean.” She pushed weakly at my chest. “They’re looking for us. They’ll hear us.”

“Then I’ll cover your mouth, princess.” I found her mouth ready and accepting of my deep kisses. Her objections were weak, not at all in agreement with how her body reacted to mine…plus, I’d always wanted to fuck a girl in my treehouse.

“The way your breathing picks up when I kiss you here,” I whispered roughly, trailing my lips along her collarbone. My hands greedily eased her shirt over her breasts, flicking her nipples with my thumbs. “And here,” I said, taking her in my mouth and relishing her quiet gasp into the night air.

Working my way down the center of her ribs and soft middle, I paused at the waistband of her skirt. She looked up at me. “Why’d you stop?”

“Oh, eager now, are we, princess? I thought this was too dastardly for you?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” she teased, wiggling her hips.

A growl left my throat as I sat up and pulled her to stand. “Well, I’d planned on being soft and gentle until you said that . Now, I have no choice but to just take what I want.”

Before she could react, I shoved her gently against the wall and knelt. Looking up at her through my lashes, I ordered, “Hold onto the tree branch above you.”

“What—” She yelped as I hooked her legs over my shoulders and stood. She grabbed onto the tree branch for balance as I pushed her against the wall. “What the hell are you?—“

My hands cupped her ass as I hooked a finger around her panties, pulling them to the side as I dove under her skirt. My lips found their target, and I moaned into her wetness, savoring the sweet smell and taste of her.

My tongue slowly inched up her slit and circled her hard clit with the barbell from my piercing. She moaned my name, one hand falling to grip my hair as I pushed her firmly against the wall. The feel of her soft thighs contracting around my head with the tug of her fingers through my hair was enough to make me lose my mind— but the flavor of her when she wanted me was almost too much pleasure to endure. Fuck, Fauna Belrose was so goddamn beautiful, and she was mine now. All mine.

“How’s that feel, princess?” I murmured into her delicious pussy. She arched her back and softly whimpered. I pulled back, lips glistening with her arousal, and arched a brow. “Use your words for me. How’s that feel? Want me to stop?”

She shook her head. “Don’t ever stop. You feel so good, Remy. So perfect.”

My throat vibrated with a groan at her words, at the rosy flush of her cheeks matching her hair I dyed the same shade. Fauna now had me all over her, and she was all over me. From the inside out, soul to soul, we were destined for the other.

Her hips moved forward, inviting me back into her. Those gorgeous, supple thighs were slick against my face as her body begged for more. That was a request I’d forever happily oblige with eager enthusiasm. I could spend an eternity with my face buried in Fauna’s pussy. My greatest desire was now to extract as much pleasure from her as possible, over and over again. I’d wreck her with orgasms, with money, with care, with whatever made her happy— whatever that was, I’d give it.

As I moved my lips and tongue in harmony with her sighs and the dance of her hips, her first orgasm caressed my barbell. Her second release left her panting and pulling my hair as her hips pushed against my face. I couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to breathe; if she had smothered me then and there, my only concern would have been breaking her fall.

“I can’t take anymore,” she breathed, pulling at my hair.

“One more,” I argued against her center, my tongue still hungrily lapping at her. “Please?”

She giggled and sucked in a breath before agreeing. “Fine, one more.”

My lips gently rounded her clit, sucking lightly and pulling off, to blow cool air against her. She whimpered as I cupped her ass, still pressing her against the wall. “I love how wet you get for me,” I mumbled, letting the breath from my words tease her sensitive core further.

Her hands tightened in my hair as my tongue dipped in and out of her, exploring her, seeing how far I could push her ecstatic climax. When she came, she cried out, forgetting herself, which I fucking loved, but I promised I’d keep her quiet. Replacing my tongue with my finger, pushing myself deep inside her as the walls of her pussy fluttered around my knuckles, I reached up and covered her mouth with my other hand. Her muffled moans were glorious, and she looked so beautiful coming undone for me, tightening around my finger.

When the aftershocks of her multiple orgasms settled and she went limp atop my shoulders, I lowered her slowly, still holding her up on her shaky knees. Fauna fell into my chest, sated and slack from bliss.

I gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let’s do that again. I want to beat my record and try to give you five orgasms at once.”

She pushed my shoulder and mumbled into my chest, still catching her breath. “You…are…a…sex…monster.”

A chuckle escaped my throat as I kissed the top of her head. “I’ve been called way worse. I’ll take it. Sounds pretty quiet down there. Should we rejoin flashlight tag?”

“There’s no way I can run around after that. My legs are jello.”

“I’ll carry you, then, princess.”

My mind shuffled through excuses to tell my brother and MJ about why we’d disappeared for forty-five minutes into the tree house as we landed in the wet grass at the bottom. Just as we did, they rounded the corner of the pool house. Trevor tucked in his shirt hastily, and Mary Jane quickly picked leaves out of her hair.

I crossed my arms and cocked my head. “We’ve been looking all over for you guys.”

Trevor looked like he’d seen a ghost as he fumbled over his words.

Fauna elbowed my ribs. “No, we weren’t. We were just looking for a snack. Do you guys want to go hunt down the brownies Watson promised us?”

We walked toward the big house, our flashlights long lost or burning batteries somewhere.

“Wait!” Trevor stopped us. “Watson promised you guys brownies? He never baked for us growing up, and we begged .”

Mary Jane shrugged. “He likes me and Fauna better.”

“We’re nicer,” Fauna added as they skipped ahead of us.

I clicked my cheek. “We’re in for it. Sorry to say, I think we’ve met our matches with those two.”

Indeed, we had.

All because of a grand switch.