Bait: The Wake Series, Book One by M. Mabie
Friday, May 23, 2008
IT RAINED BUCKETS the whole day. There wasn't much that could make me feel more disgusting than a plane ride coupled with that wet and dry moistness you get from being in and out of the rain. Moist. That word alone made me want to take a shower.
I'd flown into San Francisco to attend my dear friend, Micah's, graduation. We met when we were both attending culinary school at The Art Institute of California in San Francisco, when I was in my second year and she in her first. The ceremony wasn't until the next day, but I'd flown in early so I could go out with her and our friends.
After I graduated the previous May, I moved back home to Seattle. Most of my family lived there, so they appreciated my closer proximity. I loved being close to them, too. My mom and dad had been married forever. For someone my age, it was odd to have married parents who still liked each other. All around, we were a close family. I was the youngest of three and the only girl.
For a year, I'd been dating my boyfriend, Grant, and if my blabber-mouth parents were correct, he was soon to be my fiancé. Grant and I didn't live together. His choice, not mine. I lived in my mediocre apartment and he lived in his, four blocks apart. Even thinking about it drove me mad. But Grant was a great guy and insisted on not living together until we were married. I could only presume he'd insist on that sooner than later. That was the traditional thing to do.
He was traditional. A classic. The all-American guy.
But I didn't think of myself as the classic, all-American girl.
Opposites attract. Apparently.
We got along great and rarely fought. Well, until that morning, when we fought about him bailing on the trip last minute. That was the kind of day I’d had.
I finally made it—damp and all—to the Hook, Line and Sinker, or HLS if you were local, and my first beer was on its way. I should’ve probably ordered two. That first beer wouldn't last long.
Oh, yeah. The airport lost my luggage, too. Thankfully, I had my toiletries with me. It was almost a silver lining. Almost.
“Blake!” I heard Micah shout my name when she blew into the bar. I twisted in my stool to face the door where I saw her bouncing up to me. She looked the same as she had a year before. Micah had a messy, blonde pixie cut. She looked like a little fairy.
As soon as I stood, her short, petite body hugged me and I hugged her back in earnest.
“I've missed you so much,” she said into my hair and squeezed me hard. She was a mighty little thing and her hold on me was more than I'd anticipated. As she pulled away I saw the two guys she came in with order beers.
I knew she had a boyfriend. I’d seen pictures of them together and she'd said that I met him before I left. I really couldn't tell you which one he was. I assumed the one closest to her.
Then I noticed they were the same damn dude. Well, two versions of the same dude anyway. I swore they were twins. They had to be.
Micah stepped closer to the one of them and introduced, “Blake, this is my handsome boyfriend, Cory Moore. Cory, this is my talented friend, Blake Warren.” He offered me his hand and was happy to shake it.
He looked thoughtfully at her and asked, “What are you drinking, baby?” I already liked him. He seemed very sweet on her by the way his hand affectionately rubbed her side.
“I'll take a pint of whatever Bay they now have on tap.” She crooked her head and smiled brightly at the replica of her boyfriend. He swiftly looked at her with a cool, knowing grin. “What are you drinking, Blake?” Micah lifted up on her toes to look around me on the bar where I had my glass. “She'll take one, too!” I never ordered the second one, so I didn't object.
Cory motioned to his brother, who’d taken a seat behind them at the bar, and said, “This is my brother, Casey.” Casey didn't bother to look up. Instead, he fiddled with his phone, not paying any attention. Cory kicked him for being rude or maybe just to get a response.
I could unquestionably tell they were twins by then, but they weren't carbon copies, at least not anymore. Cory's hair was cut very short on the sides, a little longer on the top and neatly combed to one side. Casey's was full-on loose curls everywhere. Cory wore a crisp pair of gray tweed trousers, a white shirt and tie, complete with suspenders. Casey had on dark jeans, and a loose fitting, black V-neck T-shirt.
Cory was attractive and Casey was perfect. Simple as that. I could have stood there comparing the two all night. They were identical twin bodies, transformed into totally different men by their styles and personalities alone.