Page 16 of Pack Me Up
I know where that is. It’s a nice, cozy, quiet place that will be perfect.
Hunter looks like he’s going to complain, but an elbow to the stomach from Fox makes him stay quiet.
Everyone says their names together like they’re the same person, so I’m not sure which twin is which.
The twin with a hint of vanilla in his scent smiles sharply but not unfriendly. “We’re good company, promise,” he says, and the other one echoes it a half-beat later: “Promise.”
The twins flank me as we cross the parking lot with one to the left, one to the right, both slightly ahead, so I’m bracketed andprotected. My little car looks sad and outnumbered, two spaces away from a gleaming black SUV that’s probably theirs.
“So, can I be properly introduced? Which one of you is Cody?” I ask.
They share a look, then the one with caramel in his scent and a softer demeanor says, “I am.”
The other one, Colton, laughs. “Don’t worry about telling us apart. No one can.”
That sounds…sad, but I’m not sure it’s true. I’m pretty sure I can see their differences.
I fumble the keys, drop them, and Colton stoops to grab them first. “Let me,” he says, palming the fob with fingers that could snap it in half. He opens the door and gestures with exaggerated courtliness. “After you, Ms. Ryan.”
Cody and Colton take my backpack and guitar case. They put them in the trunk as I slide into the driver’s seat.
When they get in the car, it is instantly too small for all of us. Colton and Cody fold themselves into the passenger seat and behind me, knees jackknifed, elbows braced on the doors. They don’t look uncomfortable. They look like they’re used to squeezing into tight places, sharing air and space, and whatever else.
“You sure you want to drive?” Colton asks, glancing over. “We can ride with the others in the SUV. It’s armored.”
“It’s a block and a half,” I say. “I’ll survive.”
He laughs. “Your wish is our-”
Cody cuts him off, finishing in the exact same cadence: “-command.”
They both turn to grin at me. I’m not sure if I should be reassured or impressed.
I start the car. My hands are steady. The act of driving is grounding, more real than anything else going on. I back out, and Colton clicks his seatbelt with a tiny flourish.
“So,” he says, “you’re joining the Hart Pack on tour. That’s wild.”
Cody leans forward from the back. “We saw the video from the showcase. You were incredible.”
I shoot them a look. “You watched?”
“Yes, but even if we hadn’t seen it on our own, Saint would have made us,” Colton says.
“Saint is an enormous fan of prep work,” Cody adds.
They both laugh. It’s not mocking, exactly. More like they’re in on a joke I don’t get yet.
We roll out onto the street, and they keep up the banter all the way down the block, sometimes addressing me, sometimes just volleying between themselves. It’s weirdly comforting, like the background noise of a family that fights for fun. I relax my grip on the wheel, just a little.
“Are you always like this?” I ask, voice lower than I mean.
Colton looks at me, green eyes gone serious for a beat. “Like what?”
“You and your brother. The… double act.”
“Always,” he says. “Since before we could talk.”
“Mom said we shared a crib,” Cody offers from behind. “I’d cry and Colton would just punch me quiet.”
