Bad Girl Reputation by Elle Kennedy



“I can’t believe we almost did that,” I mumble, shame lining my throat. Then, I find my composure and steel up my defenses. I lift my head. “Just so we’re clear, this isn’t going to be a thing.”

“The hell does that mean?” His affronted gaze meets mine in the reflection.

“It means I have to be in town for a bit for my dad, but while I’m here, we’re not going to be seeing each other.”

“Seriously?” When he reads my resolved expression, his sours. “What the hell, Gen? You stick your tongue down my throat and then tell me to get lost? That’s pretty shitty.”

Turning to face him, I shrug with feigned indifference. He wants me to fight him because he knows there’s a lot of emotion here, and the more he drags it out of me, the better his chances. But I’m not going there again, not this time. This was a lapse in judgment. Temporary insanity. I’m better now. Head on straight. Got it all out of my system.

“You know we can’t stay away from each other,” he tells me, growing more frustrated at my decision. “We spent our whole relationship trying. Doesn’t work.”

He’s not wrong. Until the day I finally left town, we were on and off since freshman year of high school. A constant push-and-pull of loving and fighting. Sometimes I’m the moth, other times the flame.

What I eventually figured out, though, is that the only way to win is not to play.

Unlocking the door, I pause to offer a brief look over my shoulder. “There’s a first time for everything.”





CHAPTER 3

EVAN

This is what I get for trying to be a nice guy. She needed to forget for a little while—that’s cool. I’ll never, ever complain about kissing Genevieve. But she could’ve at least played nice afterward. Let’s get together later and have a drink, catch up. Blowing me off altogether is harsh even for her.

Gen has always had sharp edges. Hell, it’s one of the things that draws me to her. But she’s never looked at me with such dead disinterest. Like I was nobody to her.

Brutal.

As we leave the West house and walk toward Cooper’s truck, he gives me a look of suspicion. Beyond appearances, we’re entirely different people. If we weren’t brothers, we probably wouldn’t even be friends. But we are brothers—even worse, twins—which means we can read each other’s minds with one measly look.

“You’re kidding me,” he says, sighing with what has become a near-permanent state of judgment plastered on his face. For months now, he’s been on my case about every little thing.

“Leave it.” Honestly, I’m not in the mood to hear it.

He pulls away from the curb among the long line of cars parked on the street for the reception. “Unbelievable. You hooked up with her.” He slides a side-eye at me, which I ignore. “Jesus Christ. You were gone for ten minutes. What, you were like, I’m so sorry for your loss, here, have my penis?”

“Fuck off, Coop.” When he phrases it like that, it does sound kind of bad.

Kind of?

Fine. Alright. Maybe nearly having sex at her mother’s funeral reception wasn’t the brightest of ideas, but … but I missed her, damn it. Seeing Gen again, after more than a year apart, was like a punch to the gut. My need to touch her, kiss her, had bordered on desperation.

Maybe that makes me a weak bastard, but there you have it.

“I think you’ve done enough of that for the both of us.”

I grit my teeth and force my gaze out the window. The thing about Cooper—when our dad died and then our mom basically abandoned us as kids, he somehow got it in his head that I wanted him to become both. A constantly nagging, grumpy bastard who’s always disappointed in me. For a little while, things got better after he settled down with his girlfriend Mackenzie, who managed to yank the stick out of his ass. But now it seems like finally being in his first stable relationship has got him back to thinking he’s qualified to pass judgment on my life.

“It wasn’t like that,” I tell him. Because I can feel him fuming at me. “Some people cry when they’re grieving. Gen’s not a crier.”

He half shakes his head, twisting his hands on the steering wheel while his jaw works on grinding down his molars, like I can’t hear what he’s thinking.

“Don’t give yourself an aneurysm, bro. Just spit it out.”

“She’s barely been in town a week and already you’re in it up to your neck. I told you it was a bad idea going over there.”

I would never give Cooper the satisfaction, but he’s right. Genevieve shows up and I lose my damn mind. It’s always been that way with us. We’re two mostly harmless chemicals that when mixed become an explosive combination, leveling a city block with salt water.

“You act like we robbed a liquor store. Relax. All we did was kiss.”

Cooper’s disapproval pours off him. “Today it’s just a kiss. Tomorrow is another story.”

And? It’s not as if we’re hurting anybody. I frown at him. “Dude, what does it matter to you?”

He and Genevieve used to be cool. Even friends. I get that maybe he holds a grudge about how she left town, but it’s not like she did it to him. Anyway, it’s been a year. If I’m not still making a thing of it, why should he?