The Trouble with Dating Sue (Grover Beach Team #6) (29 page)

Huffing, Ethan tossed the magazine aside and climbed off his bed. “No way! I’m not going to trick her into a date with you.” The hardening lines of his face threatened to ruin my brilliant plan. “If you want to go out with Susan, just ask her.”

Desperate, I hung my head and said through clenched teeth, “Given the current impasse between us, she would never allow herself to say yes.” I straightened and pivoted to keep my eyes on my brother as he paced the room. “I need your help, Ethan.”

At the window, he whirled around to me. “You’re insane, you know that, right?”

“I’m a genius. She will go on this date completely unaware and unbiased. It’s my chance to show her I’m the perfect match for her.” I put on a pleading face. “So, will you do it? Please!”

He looked at me hard, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t think so.”

“Aw, come on,” I whined. “I’ll pay you.”

“Not a chance, Chris. Now go away.”

Lacing my fingers, I dropped to my knees in the middle of his room and made the most pitiable face in Donovan family history. “Pleeeeaase. You have to help me with this. It’s…it’s…”

“It’s what?” he snarled, with a reprimanding glare.

I shuffled forward on my knees and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt to plead with him. “It’s brother code. You can’t ignore that.”

“Yeah, right. Guess what! It’s still
no
.” He almost laughed, but he wasn’t amused by my begging. Prying my hands loose, he growled, “Go. Away.”

Grinding my teeth, I scrambled to my feet and trudged to my room, but I’d never been one to give up. There was one thing in this world that Ethan couldn’t say no to. And luckily, I was in possession of that one thing.

My signed basketball sat on my shelf, looking down at me as if to say, “What’s more important to you? Me or a girl?” Thinking back to my perfect kiss with little Sue, the answer was easy. Quickly, I grabbed the ball and returned to my brother’s room. Ethan pivoted as he heard me enter. I tossed the ball at his chest, and he caught it with a slight
ugh
.

“Want to think about it again?” I asked, dead serious.

To Ethan’s credit, he really thought about it. For all of ten seconds. Then his arctic scowl moved from Kobe Bryant’s autograph to my face. “What do I have to do for it?”

Okay, he wasn’t happy, but he was willing, and that’s all I needed. “Call her and ask her out. Nothing more. I’ll go on that date, pretending to be you for a while, and when I’m sure she’s seen enough of
you
in
me
, I’ll tell her the truth.”

For an endless moment, he stared back at the ball, deliberating, his bottom lip between his teeth. Finally, he lifted his head, drew in a deep breath, and commanded, “You’ll also take the blame for this shit. You’ll tell her you stole my phone to call her or that you drugged me or whatever. But you
will
keep me out of this.”

I crossed my heart. “You have my word.”

His wary gaze on my face, he threw the ball back at me, fished his phone out of his pocket, and dialed Sue. Seconds later, his expression changed to friendly, and he tore his eyes away from me to look at the ceiling instead. “Hey, Susan, how are you feeling?” A short pause. “Nothing much. I just thought, since you don’t want to come play Wii with me anymore, we should go for coffee again. We haven’t been to Charlie’s in a while.” Another silent second of waiting, in which I could only pray she’d agree. “Cool. How about Fri—”

No!
Panicking, I shot the basketball at Ethan’s chest, and he stumbled backward, dropping the phone. As he bent down to pick it up, he snarled under his breath, “What the hell?”

“Not Friday!” I hissed back. “That’s too far away. Tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” he told Susan, with a hard scowl at me, as he resumed the call. He clenched his teeth. “Some idiot left his basketball in my room… Anyway, how about Wednesday? Would that be good?” He waited, then he shook his head at me.

Dammit, she said no?
“Why?” I whispered.

“Can’t,” he mouthed back.

“Thursday then!”

Ethan narrowed his eyes in irritation. “Okay, how about Thursday?” he suggested, attention back on Sue. “Cool. I’ll pick you up at five.” They said goodbye, and he put the phone down. Looking like an irate alligator, all teeth, he snapped at me, “There. Happy now?”

A grin spread across my face. “Very.”

“NO. FRICKIN’. WAY!”

“What?” Ethan replied, his grumpy reflection behind me in the mirror. “That’s what I’d wear today.”

Yeah, maybe
he
would wear it, but the washed-out green t-shirt and pants he’d worn since ninth grade would not leave this house on
me
, especially not for my date with Sue. I pulled the tee over my head, threw it back in his wardrobe, and discarded those sloppy jeans. “Don’t you have anything just a little more stylish?”

He folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the mirror. “I already arranged a date for you. Why do I have to give you my clothes, too?”

“Because she’ll notice the difference the second I show up with something from my own closet. I need to play your part well, and therefore I need to dress up like you.
Comprende
?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Take what you need. But if you say one more word about my clothes, I’m going to send Susan a text and cancel.” He pulled a stupid eyebrow up. “
Comprende
?”

Growling, I searched through his wardrobe once more. There had to be
something
I could wear without having to do a walk of shame in a couple of hours. If it wasn’t for the disguise, I’d have picked my dark gray button-down shirt. It was my lucky shirt. Unfortunately, Susan had already seen me in it, and she would never believe that Ethan borrowed my clothes.

Twenty minutes later, I walked out of my brother’s room dressed in a bland white tee and a jean jacket that felt like it had never been worn. Ethan had kept it in the very back of his wardrobe, like it was an untouchable treasure. If only he’d take it out and put it on sometime, because it did look good. But I was glad he hadn't, because I quite liked it.

As for the pants, Sue wouldn’t really notice whether I wore my own or his, so mine it was. But what about shoes?

Ethan’s worn-out sneakers lay in the hallway by the door. I slipped into them and tied the laces.

“You’re going to wear my shoes, too?” my brother blurted behind me. “Ugh, that’s gross.”

“Grow some balls,” I snarled, heaving a sigh of exasperation as I straightened and walked a few steps up and down the hallway in his footwear, testing its comfort. Hell, if it wasn’t for the fact that we were identical twins, I’d say his feet were two sizes bigger than mine. These shoes were so loose from his wearing them for ages that my feet practically swam in them. I kicked them off and decided that no date was worth wearing those.

“What? Is the king not happy with his subject’s shoes?” Ethan mocked in a high-pitched voice.

I cast him a smirk over my shoulder. “I’m going to tell Mom to take you shopping this weekend.”

All amusement dropped out of his expression. “No!”

Yep, Ethan loved his threadbare clothes. Shopping with Mom and clearing out his wardrobe was a dreaded spectacle that happened once a year.

The warning was effective, and he shut up for the time it took me to style my hair and put on a light spray of Axe. As I came out of the bathroom and found Ethan still standing in the hallway, I held out my hand. “Keys.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

I tapped my foot, waiting.

“Take Mom’s car. I’m not letting you drive mine. You crashed hers last year.”

“It was only the side mirror, smart ass, and I need the Mustang. Sue will get suspicious if
you
show up in somebody else’s car.” I tilted my head. “So it’s either the Mustang or my Kobe Bryant ball. Your call.”

Mumbling an unintelligible curse, Ethan went to his room, came back, and reluctantly handed me the keys.

“Thank you,” I said, overly polite, and headed out the door.

A Wiz Khalifa song kept me company on the drive to Susan. I hummed along to it, then cut off the radio together with the engine after halting in front of her house. In the front garden, a woman dug around in a bed of petunias. She straightened as I climbed out of the car, and pulled off her dirty gloves. “Hello, Ethan. How nice to see you again.”

We shook hands. “Uh…yes. Hi.” Dammit, was Ethan on a first-name basis with her, or did he call her Mrs. Miller? Better not address her with any name at all. “Is Susan ready? We have a date.”

“Wait a second. I’ll call her.” She offered me a smile that made her green eyes crinkle. She was a beautiful woman. One couldn’t help but notice that Sue was the image of her mother.

Throwing the gloves on the ground, she went into the house. “Susan!” her call echoed to me. “There’s someone waiting outside for you, honey!”

“Coming!” That was Susan’s voice from somewhere on the upper floor, and my heart started drumming a little harder at the sound. Trying to rein it in, I leaned against the side of Ethan’s Mustang and folded my arms.

Show time.

It only took seconds for Sue to skip out the front door. Her blue dress flapped around her knees, a broad black belt accentuating her slim figure. She wore a very short white cardigan cropped just below her breasts. She looked stunning in that outfit.

Sue slowed down as she came toward me across the driveway, almost shy, probably because she’d noticed how I drank her beauty in. Then again, she did check me out, too—and seemed to like what she saw. “Trying to impress somebody today?” she teased.

She definitely looked better than me, so the compliment belonged with her. From the chest pocket of the denim jacket, I pulled out my shades, and with a smirk, I put them on. “Are you?”

“Just every guy in town,” she replied saucily, as I opened the car door for her. “Other than you, since that’s not working.”

Oh, it was working, all right. She just had no idea…yet.

I climbed in the other side and steered the car back onto the street. The inside of the Mustang quickly filled with her fruity scent. It wasn’t a long ride to Charlie’s, but I liked having her next to me, so I drove extra slowly. “So you were with your dad yesterday? Have a good day?”

“It was awesome!” Sue admitted, hands clasped in her lap. “I had him all to myself the entire time. We cooked and ate grilled chicken, and he even made eggnog for us.” Her smile revealed how much better things must have been for her family after only a couple of days.

Genuinely happy for her, I nodded. “I’m glad things are working out for you now.”

We arrived at Charlie’s moments later and headed inside. Sue claimed a table somewhere in the middle. It was for two, and a thin vase with a yellow tulip stood in the center. I would have held Susan’s chair out for her, but she didn’t seem interested in me playing the gentleman at all—she just sat down.

I hadn’t been to Charlie’s in a while, so the face behind the bar was new to me. A guy maybe my age or a bit younger, with dark hair, was wiping the counter, but he lifted his head and nodded in greeting. He tossed the cloth away and made a beeline to our table, smiling at Sue. “A hazelnut latte deluxe for you?”

“What do you think?” Susan replied cheerfully, rolling her eyes in a mocking way. A hazelnut latte deluxe. Was that her favorite? And why did this guy know that? Were they friends? Reading Susan’s smile, I tried to figure out just how close they were. In the end, I got sidetracked by said smile and forgot everything else, because it was the prettiest thing I’d seen all day.

“Ethan?”

“Hmmn, what?” I mumbled, hearing my brother’s name. Quickly looking at the guy with a notepad in his hand, towering over me, I realized he was certainly waiting for my order.

“What do you want?” he asked, smiling too sweetly. I’d thought he only gave that smile to his female friends, like Susan, but obviously it was a business smile that he offered to all customers.

“Um…a cappuccino. Thanks.” Ready to be left alone by the waiter, I turned my attention back to Sue, who watched me with an odd look.

“Whipped cream, no foam, right?”

And now it was starting to get creepy. The waiter was still here, and he knew how I liked my cappuccino. I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. His dark eyes gleamed with a strange warmth as he held my gaze. All of a sudden, I was hit by my own charade. He’d called me Ethan. They must know each other. Of course. And Ethan’s favorite—just like mine—was cappuccino with whipped cream. “Yes,” I confirmed.

At last, he disappeared. As soon as we were alone, Susan leaned forward and placed her hand on my forearm, pulling a wry face. “Sweetcakes, flirting doesn’t work that way. You have to smile, not scare him off with a stare.”

What the freaking hell?
Flirting?
With the boy behind the counter? Was she on drugs?

I opened my mouth but closed it just as quickly. Duh. The gay thing. Ethan. I should have known. Susan seemed to be determined to hook Ethan up with someone. Obviously, she deemed this black-haired guy a suitable match. I bit my tongue and gave her a stiff nod. “Yeah, right.”

She leaned closer and actually rubbed my arm now. Her touch was gentle and very welcome, even though her cold fingers gave me a slight tingle of goose bumps where they brushed my naked skin. “Hey, it’s cool. I don’t mind you using me for cover.”

My brows knitted in a frown. “What?”

“Look at you. You’re gorgeous, all dressed up.” Sue suppressed an excited giggle as she moved her hand up and down in front of me. “Did you really think I wouldn’t realize who you truly wanted to impress today? Actually, I knew when you mentioned Charlie’s on the phone.”

“You did?” Had she figured me out? But how? And then the truth hit me again. Hard. The joke was on me. Susan had no idea she was facing the wrong twin. Dammit, Ethan had a crush on this guy, and she wanted to play matchmaker. That was the only reason for her excitement at the moment, not because she was happy to be here with
me
.

“Yes,” she answered, sounding much too happy. “And I’m fine with that. Now relax and show the guy what a great catch you are.”

Now that was a compliment I could happily accept, as it went for both me and my brother. The corner of my mouth slipped up in a smirk. “So I’m a great catch, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

My grin stayed, even when the waiter came back with our coffees—although it felt more like my mouth cramped and froze in that position. However, if Ethan was really crushing on this guy, it would be quite shitty of me to ruin it for him. After all, he’d been helping me with Sue, too. But it cost me quite a bit of effort to briefly direct my smile at the waiter. Flirting with boys didn’t come naturally to me. And it was definitely not something I enjoyed.

After the waiter left again, Susan whispered, full of enthusiasm, “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

A long, pained breath escaped me. “You actually have no idea.”

“Don’t worry. It’s okay to be nervous. You’ll get used to the butterflies.” She grinned. “And at some point, you’ll love them.”

I will?
Could it be that she happened to like the butterflies she had with me? On the other hand, what if she didn’t feel excited around me any longer? She’d seemed quite relaxed since the moment she came out of her house.

Of course, she had no idea who was wearing Ethan’s mask today.

Hm, with a little luck, I might be able to sound her out about me…

One elbow propped on the table, I leaned forward and rested my chin in my palm, my intrigued gaze fixed on her. My index finger tapped a soft rhythm on my bottom lip. “I don’t make you nervous anymore, do I?”

“No, you don’t,” she told
Ethan
with a soft chuckle.

“Who does?” When she was reluctant to answer, I suggested innocently, “Chris?”

“Well, he does…sometimes.” Her suddenly shy gaze dropped to the latte in front of her, which she stirred with a long-stemmed spoon. “I’m working on getting that under control.”

Why would she? I liked that I made her nervous, and even more that she admitted it to me. She hadn’t denied the chemistry between us, so not all was lost yet. My hopes flaring bright made me blurt out the next thing that came to my mind. “If you still get nervous when you see him, you haven’t written him off completely.”

Sighing heavily, Sue ripped a sugar packet open and poured the entire contents into her drink. Then she cleared her throat and cut me a quick, scrutinizing glance from under her silky bangs. “Any chance Chris asked you to grill me about him today?”

I swallowed. “Would you be mad if he did?”

“Not at you, of course.” She lifted her head, and her serious look returned to me. “It’s not your fault.”

Ah, but it
was
mine—only she didn’t know. I grimaced. “So you’re mad at
him
because of it?”

Leaning back, Susan crossed her arms defiantly, but a smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I won’t say another word if you’re going to run off to tell him again at the first chance you get—like you did on Monday.”

“Okay, I won’t tell him.” Technically, that wasn’t even a lie.
I
wouldn’t tell me; she would. Still, a prickling of conscience made me lower my chin. Uncomfortably, I spooned the foam of my cappuccino into my mouth and asked in a quiet tone, “Now tell me why you don’t want to give him another chance.” If I knew, maybe I could do something about it.