My Twin Sister’s Extremely Famous and Incredibly Hot Neighbor

I desperately try to think of what I’m going to do to get Dustin out of the living room. If he sees the photo of me and Jera, it’s all over. He will know immediately that I’m not Jera, and Jera will murder me. I remember one more painting I have that he hasn’t seen. “Want me to show you one I painted when I was six years old?”

Dustin turns to me, a smile in his eyes. “I’d love to.”

I usher him back into the library where I have all my supplies. I pick up my old backpack sitting in the corner and unzip the front zipper. Inside is a folded-up piece of paper. I hand it to him.

He unfolds it and looks at the cat I painted. I drew it in red crayon and then painted it in blue. It was misshapen, the head was much too small for the body, and it makes me laugh every time I look at it.

“Wow, look at that,” Dustin says, and I can tell he’s trying to be nice.

I laugh, giving him silent permission to laugh with me. “It’s my favorite painting I’ve done. Do you want to know why?”

He laughs. “Sure. Why?”

“Because that little girl was not afraid to mess up. She wasn’t afraid to paint a blue cat. She did what her heart wanted. And my mother hung this picture on the refrigerator for everyone to see. That six-year-old was proud of this picture, and it reminds me that I can be proud of what I do, even if it’s not always perfect.”

Dustin stares at me in the dim light of the library. “I love that.”

I take the picture from him and fold it back up, suddenly embarrassed that I revealed so much of myself. I hadn’t meant to.

“Hey, I think I smell that brisket,” I say. “Isn’t it done by now?”

Dustin looks at his watch. “Oh, you’re right. I need to take it out of the smoker. It needs to rest before we eat it.”

“Rest? Is it tired?” I smirk at my lame joke.

He laughs, although it wouldn’t surprise me if he was just being polite again. “We’ll be able to eat in an hour or so. Want to come help me make a side dish?”

“Oh, you are so cute. You think I can help in the kitchen.” I pat his arm like he’s adorable.

“Come on. I won’t make you do anything too difficult. We can even do the dishes afterward.” His lips curve up in an incredibly sexy smile.

Memories of Dustin’s hands grazing mine under the soapy water pop into my brain, and an electric current runs through me, making me all tingly. “Okay,” I say before I can stop myself.

Maybe Jera will forgive me for spending so much time with Dustin once I tell her all that happened with the phone, and how I was such a fish out of water. I really need Dustin’s help. It’s nothing else. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

When we go outside, I pick up Squint and bring him along. Dustin scratches under Squint’s chin before driving us to his house, which takes ten minutes because of all the time it takes to open and close our gates.

“We should just build a gate between our properties,” I joke.

Dustin looks at me like I’ve suggested we put mayonnaise on our ice cream. “What?”

“I mean, there’s just one fence between our properties. We could…” My voice trails off. The whole fence thing my sister has going with Dustin smacks me upside the head. I’m such an idiot. “Never mind,” I say quietly.

Dustin swallows as he puts his car into park. “Jera,” he says quietly. “Do we really need to take this whole thing to court?”

I pet Squint and stare at the floor mat. I’m in so much trouble. I’d forgotten all about the feud between Jera and Dustin. What am I supposed to say to him? I can’t tell him anything, because no matter what I say I’ll be putting words into Jera’s mouth.

The seconds tick by as I try to think of something I can say that won’t get me into trouble with Jera and won’t sound lame to Dustin. I open my mouth to speak, but then close it again.

“You know what?” he says. “Forget I even brought it up.” Dustin hops out of the car and pulls open my door.

I look up at him. “I’m sorry,” I say as I get out of the car. Guilt constricts my throat. I feel bad for all the lying I’m doing.

“No, I was wrong to say something. I don’t want to ruin today with talk about property lines and fences.” He holds out his arm to me, like we’re about to walk down the red carpet or something.

I take his arm, grateful for his suggestion. “All right. Let’s not talk about it.”

Squint jumps out of my arms when we enter Dustin’s house. He follows us into the kitchen. Dustin goes out the patio door and takes the brisket out of the smoker. He brings it into the kitchen. My mouth waters as he places it on a wooden cutting board to cool.

He opens his refrigerator “What side dish should we make?”

“What were you going to make before you invited me over?”

“Cheesy mashed potatoes. But they’re really not a good diet food.”

I playfully shove his shoulder. “Why do you keep asking if I’m on a diet? Are you trying to tell me something?”

“No! I just—” He stops and offers me a sheepish look. “I’ve been around Hollywood types my whole life. Everyone is on a diet all the time.”

“Well, I’m not.”

He smiles as he pulls out the butter, cream cheese, and a few other types of cheese from the fridge. “All right then, cheesy mashed potatoes it is. But tomorrow is going to be a salad day.”

I grin at him. “Are you inviting me over for that, too? Because I love a good salad.”

He chuckles. “I never know what you’re going to say.”

“And that’s why you like me?” I bat my eyelids at him. I’m being way too flirty, but I suddenly don’t care. I’m having fun and ignoring the consequences.

He shuts the fridge and turns to me, putting both hands on the counter on either side of me, pinning me. His gaze sweeps over my face. “I do like you, Jera. More than I ever thought I would.”

My heart beats fast and my breath catches. I can smell Dustin’s cologne. It’s a musky, heady smell, and it’s mixed with the scent of him. I think I’m going to faint. Then I process what he just said. “You didn’t think you’d like me?” I ask quietly.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, standing back. “That first day, when you came over to welcome me to the neighborhood, I was quite attracted to you. But then I had that party, and…well, you know.”

I don’t know, but I assume from the bits I’ve heard that Jera wasn’t too nice to him. I drop my gaze. “I’m sorry all that happened.”

“Me, too. After that happened, I thought I knew the real you, and I have to admit I didn’t like what I saw.”

My stomach sours. Jera has her issues. She can act like a spoiled brat sometimes, but she has a sweet side, too. “I’m not always proud of myself,” I whisper. “But I try.”

“I get that. I’d hate to be judged solely on the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’m just seeing a different side to you right now, and I’m curious.” His gaze meets mine and lingers there.

I wait a second but he doesn’t finish, so I ask, “About what?”

“Which Jera is the real Jera?”