“Kayla, stop touching me and back the fuck up. You pull that shit with Luke where you get up in his face and he ignores you. I don’t want you taking liberties with my personal space.”

She steps back but manages to keep what she thinks is a sultry expression on her face. “Oh Logan, don’t be…”

“We’ve both told you repeatedly we’re not interested,” I interrupt. “I’m not in the mood to explain it again. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with my beer.”

She starts to say something else, but I get up and walk to the other side of the bar. In the back of my mind I know I’m being rude but I can’t summon my give-a-fuck emotion. I’m pissed at my brother, worried about Sarah, and ripping myself to shreds for what I’m really feeling. I roll my eyes when I look up to see Kayla storming off in a bitch-fit. Great. I’ve pissed her off. Just what I needed tonight – a scorned woman with some extra crazy on top.

I stare down at my beer and think about everything that’s happened in the past couple of years to push Luke and I where we are. We both fell for her. In the cruelest twist of fate, my other half and I fell for the same woman. And the real kick in the nuts? She’s our stepsister.

Luke won’t say it out loud but I don’t need him to. We’ve both known for a long time how the other felt. After her sophomore year in college, we decided it was best if we didn’t visit at the same time. I knew how hard it was for me to watch her show affection to Luke, and conversely I could feel the anger rolling off of him when she would pay me even a little attention.

It never felt wrong to love Sarah. If anything, it felt right. The guilt I feel is because I love her and I know Luke feels the same way. We’ve shared women for years, and it’s always felt natural, like this is how we’re meant to be. We’ve talked about having a permanent menage relationship and dreamed that one day we would find the one and make a home with the three of us. Deep down, though, I think we both always hoped it would be with Sarah.

Our sweet little Sarah would be shocked to know what we do behind bedroom doors, and I can’t wrap my head around her wanting us in that way. I know that if she ever did feel the same about us, she would want to choose, and that would end Luke and me. We couldn’t, wouldn’t survive it. I would feel his heartbreak every time I was with her. As much as we love her, it couldn’t be for just one night. There’s love and family involved. If this went wrong it could break us, and the three of us is all that’s left. We can’t risk it.

I decide to sulk at the bar and down a few more beers. The only thing waiting on me at home is a brooding Luke and the image of Sarah in her room, masturbating. I stifle my groan and start thinking of football to keep my mind off my growing dick.

I don’t know how long I sit there, zoned out, before Sam slides next to me at the bar. He nudges my shoulder with his in greeting and orders a beer. He takes a drink and then gives me a thoughtful look.

“I dropped your sister off at home,” he says and takes another drink. I hear him take a deep breath. “Luke pulled up when I was leaving. He was just sitting in his car staring at the house.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, but I don’t know what he wants me to say. We’ve both known Sam for a long time. He would be good for Sarah. He’s the type of guy I would wish for her, if I wasn’t in love with her myself. I know why Luke hit him. If I had seen him kiss her I’d want to lay his ass out too.

Sam shakes his head and lets out a short laugh. “One day, Logan, the three of you really need to sit down and figure this shit out.” He stands with his beer and starts to leave. I realize at this point I haven’t said a damn word to him and I turn to speak, but he beats me to it. “And just a little advice, that day should be sooner than fucking later.” He rubs his jaw and walks away.

I sit there opening and closing my mouth. I should have played that off better and denied whatever he thinks he knows, but I didn’t have it in me. I think I’ve just gotten tired of how things have been lately and I’m tired of pretending. I’m so tired of acting like I don’t want Sarah and that I don’t want to share her with Luke. I want everything. Is that such a fucking ridiculous request?

I pay my tab and head outside. I need to clear my head and it’s not happening in that bar.

I decide that Sam has some truth to his statement. I do need to talk to Luke, but right now I want to talk to Sarah more and make sure she’s okay. She left the bar pissed and I can’t stand it when she’s mad.

CHAPTER 3 *Luke*

I sit in my car long after Sarah has entered the house and Sam has pulled away. I felt my knuckles crack on to the steering wheel when I watched to see if she kissed him goodnight. Thankfully Sam didn’t have a death wish and kept his hands and mouth to himself.

I can’t bring myself to go in the house and have the confrontation I can feel building. I hate how things are distant between Logan and me, but I don’t know how to change it. He’s in love with Sarah and, fuck me, so am I. We need to just leave her alone because this whole situation is all kinds of screwed up. Not only am I in love with my goddamn stepsister, but so is my twin. Could this possibly be any more fucked up? Jesus, sign us up for Jerry Springer.

I rub my hands down my face and sigh heavily. I can feel Logan’s pain. Even when we aren’t side by side I know when he’s hurting. He’s the heart of our family. He’s our light and laughter when I’m just a brooding asshole. Things have been so strained lately; our home isn’t a happy place I look forward to returning to at the end of the day. Instead I avoid it. I avoid Sarah and Logan and everything that makes my chest hurt.

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