The Mix-Up (Southern Hearts Club #3) - Melanie Munton Page 0,5

balls. “Will I get points deducted for not showing my work, boss man?”

Bewilderingly, Ryder’s gaze darkens with sensual intent for a split second. But that odd expression is abruptly wiped from my memory when a bark of masculine laughter comes from my left.

My head whips around in shock.

I didn’t realize anyone else was in the room with us. Although how I could have missed the stud standing by the windows with his back to us is a mystery. The lightweight sweater he’s wearing fits snugly over his broad shoulders. His dark jeans mold beautifully to his tight ass. And he’s tall. I love tall.

Intrigued, I slant a questioning look at Ryder who’s glaring at the man’s back.

“It’s about time someone had the stones to knock you down a peg, bro,” Tight Ass says.

Wait…bro?

I’m frozen on the spot when the stranger turns around and reveals a face I’ve seen every single weekday for the last ten months.

It’s Ryder…but it’s not.

What the f—

“Hi.” The man approaches me, sticking his hand out. “I’m Myles, Ryder’s brother.”

My eyes grow so wide, I’m surprised they don’t fall out of my skull and plop onto the carpet at my feet. My heart stutters in my chest, over and over again, making it hard to draw in a breath.

Brother. Ryder has a brother.

And they’re obviously identical twins.

How did I not know about this?

Myles suddenly jerks to a stop and squints at me. “Wait, don’t I know you?” He looks to wrack his brain for a moment before his eyes clear with recognition. “You’re her. You’re that girl.”

And that’s when I know for sure.

I never slept with my boss ten months ago.

I slept with my boss’s twin brother.

“Hold on, you two know each other?” Ryder snaps from behind his desk.

I’m still stunned mute, so Myles takes the liberty of answering for me. “A little.” A gleam enters his eyes. “We’ve only met once. It was a while back. Isn’t that right…?”

Several beats of silence pass as I openly gape at him. I don’t shake myself out of it until Myles lifts an expectant, if not amused, eyebrow.

“Gretchen,” I supply robotically. I’m barely aware that I even have faculties, let alone that I have control over them.

Myles’s mouth stretches wide. “Right. Gretchen. We got to know each other pretty well one night, didn’t we? All night, if memory serves.”

Ryder shoots to his feet, eyes wild. “What?”

My attention swings to him, some of the numbness fading as I take in his extreme reaction. My cheeks heat when his fiery blue gaze pierces straight through me. Why do I feel like a teenager whose parents just found an empty condom wrapper on her bedroom floor?

“You two slept together?” Ryder hisses accusingly at me, venom dripping from his words.

My mouth opens. Then closes. Nothing comes out.

I can hear Kennedy’s voice in my head. Sorry, folks, my audio seems to be malfunctioning.

“It was what, like, seven or eight months ago?” Myles asks me.

“Ten,” I find myself whispering. “Ten months. Just before I started working here.”

Ryder’s eyes dart to mine and hold. I can see the wheels behind them turning rapidly, trying to work out exactly what this all means.

I see the moment when it happens.

When he must realize that I slept with his twin brother before I ever started working at TCG and met him. When I was shell-shocked to come face-to-face with someone I thought was a one-night-stand. At my job.

“I never told you I had a brother,” Ryder says slowly, working out the equation before him. “And he never mentioned he had a twin, did he?”

My chest rises and falls with my heavy breaths. “No.”

Ryder’s lips roll inward. I can feel Myles’s inquisitive stare shift between us as he watches our interlude with rapt attention.

“So, this whole time,” Ryder goes on, “did you think it was me you slept with?”

Okay, this is seriously the most horrifying moment of my life. And for a frame of reference, the first period I ever got was on a day that I chose to wear white shorts to school.

“I-I don’t—” I don’t know what to say.

I’m not used to feeling the sting of humiliation. Embarrassment doesn’t often breach the fortress walls I’ve erected around myself. My self-possession is an impenetrable barrier that nothing too uncomfortable ever penetrates. Because I don’t allow it to.

“You did,” Ryder decides on his own. “But I didn’t acknowledge that I’d ever met you before that first day in my office. Is that why you’ve always been so snippy with me?”