Not that he was complaining about the success of his architectural firm. On the contrary, Travis thrived on the competition and cutting-edge creativity entailed in building worlds for his clients to live in. A natural-born salesperson, Travis had never had a client say no to him. He loved the precision of designing and building the perfect structure and was known for clean lines and sweeping vistas.
The cab stopped in front of the Moscone Center, and Travis paid the driver. He gave his brother’s name to the bouncer at the door and walked onto the huge dance floor, taking a moment to get used to the rainbow of lights and earsplitting Electronica booming from the speakers on the ceilings. Three lithe women walked past him, the boldest one in the skimpiest dress eying him up and down, making it clear that she liked what she saw. Travis grinned. Maybe tonight wasn’t going to be such a waste after all.
After he was done pretending to be Luke, he was going to take home a cute little thing in a thong.
Models weren’t the greatest lays—they were too busy putting themselves in flattering positions to get really steamy in the sack—but they sure were nice to look at. And Travis greatly enjoyed looking at pretty things.
He grabbed a martini from a passing waiter and looked for an open seat far enough from the stage for Lily to think he was his twin brother if she glanced in his direction. No one had ever been able to tell them apart, so Travis wasn’t worried about fooling her. In any case he was pretty sure her nerves would turn the audience into one big blur of faces. How could she possibly pick him out of the crowd? Regardless, as soon as she made it backstage in one piece he was out of there. And then Luke could go back to his seemingly full-time job of picking up Lily’s pieces.
Spotting an empty chair between a petite blonde and a built brunette, Travis made his way over to it. He took off his leather jacket and propped one jeans-clad leg up on the back of a chair, letting the gin work its way down his throat.
Travis watched the tiny blonde to his left take in his well-defined biceps and triceps, the washboard stomach beneath his thin T-shirt, and long-past-five-o’ clock shadow. He knew he looked like he visited the gym on a daily basis, but the truth was he’d been blessed with good genes. The only reason he ever hit the gym was to convince some hot young thing to swap reaching her heart rate on the treadmill in favor of exceeding it as she came beneath him. He much preferred playing a game of pickup basketball to any kind of organized exercise regime.
“Hi, handsome,” the blonde said, her gaze on the bulge between his legs.
You should see how big it is when I’m turned on, he thought silently as he cocked an eyebrow and raised his martini glass in greeting.
Coyly, she asked, “Are you with one of the models?”
Taking his time to answer, Travis ran his tongue over his lower lip to lick off the lingering liquor. The blonde watched the progression with obvious hunger.
“Not exactly,” he said.
She leaned in close, giving Travis the chance to look straight into her cle**age.
She’s a B cup, maybe C, Travis thought with disinterest.
Travis noted his apathy with surprise. Not interested in a hot, perfect specimen of a woman who was offering him exactly what he wanted? Not jumping at the offer of no-holds-barred, anonymous sex?
He had definitely been putting in too many long hours in the office.
The music jumped by ten decibels as the first model hit the stage. Travis slumped farther in the chair, already counting the seconds until the show was over and he could get the blonde or the brunette—or both—into bed.
Luke’s voice played in his head, saying, “Try to be nice for once.” He didn’t know why Lily pushed all of his wrong buttons, just that she did. It was everything about her, from her round body to her meek mouth and fluffy red hair. Even her blue eyes seemed too big on her face.
But most of all, Travis couldn’t stand the way she hung all over his twin. Not to mention the fact that Luke didn’t seem to mind. Travis shook his head and drained his martini glass. How his brother could be such close friends with such a Goody Two-shoes he’d never understand. But then again, Luke had always been the caretaker, the kind of guy who supported the underdog. Somehow Luke had gotten all of the nice genes in their mother’s womb.
Travis smiled and relaxed back into his seat, perfectly comfortable with who he was, inside and out. The only thorn in his side was Lily. For some reason he was always ill at ease when she was in the same room with him. He could feel her eyes on him, almost as if she were seeing things he didn’t intend for anyone to see.
Which was ridiculous, he knew. Travis didn’t have any secrets. As far as he was concerned, he was an open book. He worked hard, played hard, and made no apologies for anything he did, because there was nothing to apologize for.
Regardless, for the next hour, he had to pretend to be on Lily’s team, or his brother would have his butt on a spear. He composed his angled jaw and green eyes into a mask of interest and support, all the while thinking about how good the blonde’s silicone-injected lips were going to feel wrapped around his cock.
Lily’s feet were killing her in the four-inch spike heels, and she wished she could sit down, but she was afraid she’d wrinkle the dress. And then Janica would definitely kill her. She leaned against the wall, her heart pounding a mile a minute.
Lily, who never, ever drank—she was sure she’d say or do something she couldn’t take back in the morning if she let her guard down for even one night—knew that she shouldn’t drink any of the plentiful alcohol backstage. But she was so nervous that when the makeup artist thrust a glass of champagne into her hands, and ordered, “Drink this or you’ll look like a ghost out there with such a white face,” all Lily could do was gulp it down. The empty glass was instantly replaced with a full one.
She still couldn’t tell if the makeup artist was a he or a she, but as the fizzy liquid made its way down her throat into her flip-flopping belly, Lily hardly cared anymore. She took another large swallow of the sweet, tart champagne and felt infinitely better.
“Luke’s here,” Janica said after popping her head from between the curtains. “He’s on the right side of the stage, four rows back.”
Lily smiled and tried to give her sister a thumbs-up, forgetting that she was holding on to the champagne glass. Her head buzzed and she looked at the upside-down empty glass in surprise.
Janica rushed over. “What are you doing? You’re not getting drunk are you?”
“No,” Lily said, her cheeks flushing. “I didn’t even want to drink it,” she insisted as she handed the empty glass over, her every move overly precise.
“That’s funny, ‘cause your glass is empty,” Janica said, sarcasm dripping off every word. “You know you can’t hold your liquor.”