The way I see it, we’re both in precarious positions. So shouldn’t that clear the slate? Make it Even Steven or something?

I press the tip of my pen firmer into the paper. I’ve spent most of the hour doodling instead of taking notes. I should be taking notes. The end of the semester is right around the corner and finals are next week.

“I bet I know who it’s about,” Annie teases. I frown, taking a second to catch her meaning.

“Oh, yeah.” I laugh under my breath, but it’s more out of duty and the need to preserve my privacy than anything. I don’t want Annie knowing about any of this. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel shameful. A part of me still insists that I should have known the difference. Two men. There’s no way in hell they’re that alike just because they share identical genes.

I’ve been over it a hundred times. I know all the times at the club and in the hotel were Rebel. I know all the times in the car and the apartment and in class were Ransom. That’s not the problem. The problem now is, say I do choose one? How will I ever know for sure which brother I’m with? How will I know for sure I’ve even made the right choice? My thoughts are too muddled to be certain of anything right now.

“Hey, Joe? Do you have time after class to hang out?”

Something in Annie’s voice makes me turn to look at her. Her green eyes are downcast, but there’s something about the sudden change in her demeanor that unsettles me. “Sure,” I say automatically. Even though I have to work tonight, I’ll make the time for her because she would do the same for me.

“’kay. Coffee?”

“How about lunch? I skipped breakfast, so I’m starving.”

She smiles. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Ladies, am I interrupting something?” Ransom’s stern voice cuts through our quiet conversation. He’s stopped his lecture to single us out in front of the whole class. Standing behind his lectern, he eyes me with a critical air that makes me consider throwing up my middle finger.

“No, not at all,” Annie says, her face burning crimson.

“Are you sure? Because if it’s important, I’ll be happy to wait. In fact,” Ransom says, casting his arm out to encompass the room. “Why don’t you share with the rest of the class? Maybe we can offer some insight.”

I glare at him, irritated that Ransom would do this. He’s behaving like a total ass. Angry with me or not, he doesn’t have the right to punish Annie for it.

“Or you could just leave us alone and continue teaching instead of wasting everyone’s time and grant money,” I mouth back.

Several students roar with laughter. Ransom’s eyes narrow, his anger quick and palpable. They shut up instantly.

“Miss Hart, you’re free to leave.”

He’s trying to kick me out? “No, thanks. I’ll stay.”

Leaving his lectern, Ransom crosses the floor. Stopping before me, he slips his hands into his trouser pockets and regards me with cool, hard steel in his eyes. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

I blink up at him, smiling demurely. “Are you sure? It sounded like one to me.” Why am I playing this game? It’s dangerous and stupid and could cost me big. But I can’t seem to help myself. Ransom brings out the brat in me.

“Let me make myself perfectly clear, Miss Hart. Pack your things and leave my classroom. Now. When you can show the proper respect, you’re welcome to return.”

Damn. How is it possible to be so attracted to someone and hate them at the same time? Slapping my book closed, I spill everything back into my bag and stand. Slinging the heavy weight over my shoulder, I raise an eyebrow at Ransom. He gives me the same infuriatingly cool look as before.

I almost regret leaving Annie behind, but I don’t want to bring any more attention to her than what’s already been given. She’s sensitive, and I know I’m going to hear an earful later anyway. She’ll want to know what’s going on. Why Ransom came down on me so hard. After leaving the room, I find a seat on one of the benches in the quad and use the time to come up with an acceptable answer.

***

I bite into my turkey on rye in hopes that having my mouth full will prevent me from having to answer Annie’s imposing questions. She is fully into investigation mode. On the walk over to the local diner located at the halfway point between our homes and campus, she must have thrown a dozen or more questions at me. Why did Ransom act that way? Why did he seem so mad? Was it just her imagination, or had he singled me out? Is there trouble in paradise, and if so, what happened?

So far, my answers have consisted mostly of one word and shoulder shrugs. It won’t save me from telling her the truth in the long run, but in the interim, it’s working just fine.

“I just don’t get it,” Annie repeats as she stirs her broccoli and cheese soup. “Mr. Scott always seemed so nice, but today he was just…rude.”

“Well, we were talking while he was teaching,” I reason, even though I’m not even close to accepting his treatment. His reaction was over the top, which sparked my over-the-top reaction, resulting in me being kicked out of class.

“How can you sit there and be so calm after the way he dismissed you in front of everyone? That must have been humiliating!”

I shrug. At this rate, my traps are going to be amazing. “It wasn’t too bad.”

“Are you kidding?” Annie’s eyes grow huge. “I was embarrassed for you. After you left, it took almost ten minutes for Mr. Scott to get everyone back under control.”

“Would you please stop calling him that? His name is Ransom.” Mr. Scott is what I used to call Rebel when we were in bed after Ransom told me he wanted to keep things between us strictly professional. Confused? So was I. From now on, it’s a first name basis until I can get everything sorted out.

“I don’t know him the same way you do.” Annie’s brows pull down in a frown. “It feels weird, too personal.”

Tossing the rest of my uneaten sandwich back on the plate, I sit back and sigh. “I guess I can see your point.” Toying with the straw submerged in my glass of pop, it takes me a moment to realize that Annie is watching me. Her eyes, a bright shade of green that shines in the afternoon sun cutting through one of the windows, are assessing me closely.

Before she gets started on another round of endless, probing questions, I turn the table on her. “So what’s going on with you? Earlier I got the impression you had something on your mind that you wanted to talk to me about.”

Thankfully, the change in subject is enough to distract her. Annie’s gaze drops to her soup. She stirs it a few more times, her mouth forming a pensive line.

“Last night I told Jason that I wanted you to be the baby’s godmother. You know, in case anything ever happens to us.”

My hand flies up to cover my chest. “Annie,” I breathe, touched that she thinks so much of me that she’d trust me to raise her kid.

“Yeah, well. Don’t get too excited.” Overwhelming sadness pours off her, and my elation seeps out of me faster than air from a ruptured balloon as I reach across the table to hold her hand. She gives me a grateful half-smile. “Jason kind of flew off the handle about it.”

“Did he hurt you?” My jaw clenches so hard I feel my teeth creak under the pressure.

“No! He’d never do that.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I ask the question, but I’ve already answered it in my head. The problem is me. It’s no secret that Jason and I don’t get along, but we’ve done well enough so far for Annie’s sake. I don’t see any reason for that to change now.

“He just…” She struggles with the answer. I give her hand a small squeeze of reassurance, and it’s enough to get her to continue. “Jason said you’re not the type of person he wants raising our child. He said...he said he doesn’t want you around it, period.”

My back hits the chair, the breath whooshing out of my lungs as I stare back at her in shock. I’m floored. I’m hurt. I’m incredibly pissed off. “What did you tell him?”