Dopplebanger (Meet-Cute #5)

Chapter 11

ELEVEN

I’m definitely going to hell for this. Probably a little faster with each kiss, too—yet I couldn’t stop.

What with the way she fit against me so perfectly, and the amazing things she could do with her lips and tongue, I decided it’d be worth it.

Seriously, how was I supposed to resist this drop-dead gorgeous girl who also made superhero and humping-unicorn jokes?

It was like I’d made her in a lab, only I wasn’t creative enough to mix in some of the awesome things about her. That also sounded a bit too Frankenstein’s monster, so I needed to abandon that analogy. She wanted to be done with thinking, and so did I. I boosted her into my arms, my hands planted firmly on her ass as I rolled my tongue over hers.

She lowered her forehead to mine and made an mmm noise that made me feel like a rock star. Since there wasn’t anywhere for me to lay her down—probably a good thing, because my self-restraint was crumbling by the second and I’d never be able to resist crawling over her and getting lost for a while—I reluctantly lowered her to her feet.

The slow drag of her body ripped a ragged groan from me.

“Dinner?” she asked, the breathlessness in her voice only making me want to see just how breathless I could make her. “It looks like there’s a burger joint in the middle of that strip of shops, and I bet we could get the ice cream you owe me for dessert, since we survived and all.”

“Maybe now you’ll have a bit more faith in me.” Even as I said it, it stung. She shouldn’t have faith in me. She should kick my ass to the curb, and she undoubtedly would if she knew I was an imposter who was standing in for my brother. My brother who had stumbled into a relationship with a perfect girl, but was too stupid to see it, so he was letting her go.

Even worse, I was glad—I couldn’t stand the thought of Gwen being his girl and hugging and kissing him while I stood by and pretended it didn’t tear me up inside. The thought of any guy touching her made toxic jealousy seep into my gut.

Once again, I wondered how I could feel this strongly after knowing her for a couple of days.

How much more fun could we have if we had more time?

But that wasn’t a possibility, and nothing would change the fact that if she found out I wasn’t Evan, she’d be angry, and I couldn’t go on for the rest of my life pretending to be someone else.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, bringing me back to the sidewalk leading away from the carnival and making me rethink whether I could keep on pretending forever. Completely ridiculous, not to mention implausible, but I found the thought more alluring every minute I spent with Gwen.

“I was just thinking this day went by way too fast.”

“I was kinda worried that you’d be sick of me before we even reached Pennsylvania.”

“Sick of you? Pretty sure that’s impossible.”

“Pretty sure it’s not.”

“Oh, are you sick of me, then? Is this your way of hinting you need some alone time?”

She laughed. “Of course not. I just… I don’t know what’s gotten into you these past few days.”

I held my breath.

“But I like it.”

At least that was a small consolation. Did it absolve me? Hell no. I’d always been the rule-follower. The one who did the right thing and walked the line. Evan was the one who left wreckage in his wake, used guidelines as a jump-rope, and took off for this party or that one while I stayed behind to clean up his messes.

I figured if my brother could get away with a lifetime of breaking the rules and doing whatever he wanted no matter the consequences, I should get four little days. One was already mostly behind us, and I wanted to forget all the rules and enjoy the limited time I had with Gwen.

That probably made me responsible for every kiss and touch we exchanged, regardless of initiation. They’d all be admissible in court, so at this point, what did I have to lose? I might as well accept my guilty status and live it up before the sentence got handed down.

Gwen paused mid-bite, and hot fudge from her sundae dripped off her spoon and onto her lip. The restaurant had that whole fifties-era vibe. Black and white checkered tile, red vinyl booths, and a jukebox in the corner that crooned oldies, which I’d teased was better than her music. Despite being stuffed from our burgers and fries, she’d insisted we still needed ice cream. Who’d argue with that?

She blinked and then swallowed, her hand going to her throat. She rubbed the skin there.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I feel… weird. And my mouth’s fuzzy.” She dragged her spoon through her bowl like she was searching for something. “Like I ate something with peanuts. But I told the waitress about my allergy, so maybe I’m just psyching myself out?” She scratched at her neck, leaving lines of red, and worry bound my lungs.

“What happens if you eat them? Will you go into anaphylactic shock? Do you have an EpiPen, or do I rush you to the ER, or?—”

Gwen put her hand on mine. “Don’t freak out.”

I was about to argue that I wasn’t freaking out, but the wheeze at the end of her sentence and thinking about her not breathing made me freak the fuck out.

She seemed to be doing an assessment of her body, lifting her arms, and then taking breaths that came out too shallow. “I think I would’ve tasted it, but maybe the hot fudge covered it up?”

Our waitress rushed toward us, and my instincts screamed this was about to get worse. “I think I mixed up the ice creams,” she said, her voice bordering hysteria. Her eyes widened when she noticed both of our bowls were nearly empty, and my stomach plummeted down to my toes.

I whipped out my phone. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”

“That’s freaking out,” Gwen said as she reached for her purse. “I’ll just pop an allergy pill, and I’ll be fine.” She dug around in her bag, and I wanted to snatch it out of her hands and search for it myself, even though I didn’t know what her medication looked like.

“Don’t you have an EpiPen?”

“I do, but it’s expensive as hell and only for emergencies, not to mention the side effects blow. I couldn’t have”— wheeze —“ingested that much.”

“Who cares how much it is? I’ll pay for another EpiPen. And if you think this is freaking out, this is nothing if you go into anaphylactic shock.” I glanced at the waitress, hoping she’d know what to do, but the horrified expression on her face made it clear she didn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was so busy, and the orders got mixed up, and?—”

Gwen pulled a bottle out of her purse and shook it, the pills rattling together. “Look, I found my Benadryl. As long as I cut it off ASAP, it’ll all be okay. I’ll take two just to be extra safe.” She washed the pink pills down with water, then turned to me. “I’m gonna get super tired, so let’s hurry and check into a hotel. That way, I’ll at least have a bed under me when I go into my Benadryl coma.”

I handed a wad of cash to our waitress, my gaze still on Gwen as I tried to gauge her breathing. “See, you say the word ‘coma’ like a joke, and it makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and charge into the nearest ER.”

“That’d also be too expensive, especially since I’m fine.” She reached into her purse and went to digging again. “How much was the bill? I don’t expect you to pay for all my meals.”

“We’ll save that fight for later,” I said, scooting away from the table and extending a hand to her. “Come on, let’s get you to a hotel.”

The waitress told us there was a nice one a few miles down the road, and I took Gwen’s hand and rushed us out of the restaurant.

“Okay, now I’m guessing you’re the Flash,” she said. “But I’m not, so can we slow down?”

My patience stretched as thin as my nerves, and I was ready to plow over everyone who was out and about, moving way too fucking slow. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny. It’s also keeping with my walking disaster personality.”

“I never should’ve ordered the ice cream with peanut butter cups,” I mumbled. I was never eating peanut butter around her again, that was for sure.

Since it would only be for a few more days, it wouldn’t be a huge hardship, but instead of that consoling me, it only added to the frustrating ticking-clock sensation.

We finally reached the car, and I jerked open the passenger door.

“What? I don’t get to drive your Camaro in my peanut-inebriated state?” Gwen flashed me a smile, dimples and all. Then she placed a hand over my heart. “Come on. I don’t want this to ruin our amazing night. I thought that tonight might be the night we…” She sunk her teeth into her luscious bottom lip and dragged her hand lower, and desire mixed in with the worry, doing its best to overtake it.

The lights from the carnival rides played on her features, highlighting one and then another, like they couldn’t decide which one was the prettiest. I couldn’t, either. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure.” It would’ve been a lot more convincing without the wheeze.