Bad Girl Reputation by Elle Kennedy

“Not many people can,” I say with a shrug.

“What about girls? Like, your girlfriends? Did they ever get you guys mixed up?” He’s utterly fascinated.

“Sometimes,” Coop answers as he grabs a beer for himself. He strides toward the barbecue, lifts the lid, and groans happily. “Oh man, those ribs look amazing.” He turns back to Riley. “Serious girlfriends usually know the difference, though. My girl says she can tell us apart by our footsteps.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” I crack, sipping my beer. Yes, Mac can tell us apart, but from the sounds we make while we walk? I call bullshit.

Coop flashes a smug smile. “It’s true.”

Beyond his shoulder, I glimpse Mac through the open sliding doors. She just entered the kitchen and is removing items from the fridge. Then she starts preparing a sandwich at the counter, her back to us.

I slide off the railing. “I request permission to test that theory.”

Cooper follows my gaze, smirks, and nods magnanimously. “Go for it.”

Utilizing the stealth mode I’d perfected after years of sneaking in and out of houses and girls’ bedrooms, I creep into the kitchen. Mac is focused on arranging cheese slices on her bread, singing softly to herself. Only when I’m close enough that she won’t have much time to turn around, I walk normally and come up behind her.

Wrapping both hands around her waist, I nuzzle her neck and speak in my perfect, uncanny Cooper voice. “Hey, babe, your ass looks good enough to eat in those shorts.”

An outraged cry fills the kitchen as she spins around and tries to knee me in the groin. “What the fuck, Evan! Why?”

Luckily, I capture her knee with both hands before it connects with the family jewels. Then I dart backward and raise my hands in surrender. From the deck, loud laughter greets my ears.

“Told you!” Cooper calls out.

“What is wrong with you!” Mac huffs.

“It was just an experiment,” I protest, keeping my distance. “Question, though. How did you know it was me?”

“Your footsteps,” she growls. “You walk like it’s a game.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Evan, please get out of my sight before I punch you in your stupid face.”

I go back outside with a defeated sag to my shoulders. “She says I walk like it’s a game,” I inform my brother, who nods as if that makes any goddamn sense.

Riley, as usual, is in hysterics. Seems like all I do is make this kid bust out in laughter.

But maybe that’s a good thing.

It ends up being a good day. Good food, good company, good everything. Even Cooper is in high spirits. He doesn’t get on my case about Gen or whatever else disappoints him about me, not even once. He’s, dare I say it, downright chipper. He and Mac face off against me and Riley in a game of beach volleyball, and when Liz comes to pick Riley up around four o’clock, he looks bummed to leave.

But in my life, “good” is a fleeting concept. Which is why I’m not surprised when later, while I’m on the beach with Mac and Cooper watching Daisy chase seagulls, I’m faced with a new dilemma.

Shelley’s blowing up my phone about random stuff in between trying to set up another date. I usually don’t spend much time on my phone, so answering the barrage of texts has Cooper eyeing me in suspicion. Normally I’d just turn it off and ignore the messages until later, but I’ve found Shelley gets impatient. If I don’t answer, she goes into a panic spiral, thinking I’ve blown her off. I’m worried she might impulsively drive out here, and I can’t have that.

It’s still weird, spending time with her like a normal mom-and-son duo. Talking about our days and pop culture. All the while delicately trying to avoid mention of Cooper to stave off the inevitable question of when he might join us at one of our meetups. I hate lying to my brother, but Cooper’s a long way from ready to know about any of this.

Playing with Daisy, he shouts something at me about pizza for dinner. I nod absently, while Shelley is telling me there’s a stray cat hanging around outside her work, and she’s gotten it in her head she’s going to take it home. Which makes me think she probably should have had to practice with a pet before having twins, but what the hell do I know?

A chewed-up, sandy tennis ball suddenly lands in my lap. Then a blur of golden fur is flying at my face. Daisy barrels into me to snatch the ball before running away again.

“Hey! What the hell?” I sputter.

Cooper stands over me, all puffed up and bothered. “You talking to Gen?”

Not this again. “No. Fuck off.”

“You’ve been hunched over that thing ever since Riley left. Who is it?”

“Since when do you care?”

“Leave him alone,” shouts Mac, who’s still tossing the ball with Daisy at the tide line.

Cooper does the opposite—he yanks the phone from my hand. Instantly, I’m on my feet, wrestling him for it.

“Why are you such a drama queen?” I get one hand on the phone before he sweeps my leg and we end up rolling around in the sand.

“Grow up,” Cooper grunts back. He digs his elbow into my kidney, still reaching for the phone while we toss around. “What are you hiding?”

“Come on, quit it.” Mac stands over us now with Daisy barking like she’s waiting to get tagged in.