Hard Caulk
:: a soft, pliable latex that has grown rigid and stiff
Kate
Saturday, April 1st, 8:07 am
Foster Avenue, Baltimore, Maryland
It’s April Fools’ Day.
I have the best prank planned for Josh and David. I can’t stop giggling—it’s that good. And I don’t even care that I’m frustrated with Josh. I love April Fools’ and I’m not letting his angsty, hungover self ruin this day.
Okay, that’s a little harsh. I actually do feel bad. The Claire thing is kind of a mess, and I may have complicated it last night. Like, in a BIG way.
But I can’t worry about that now; I’m on a mission.
I tiptoe out of the house and cut over to Dillon Street, then walk the ten blocks or so to Safeway, all the while cursing myself for underdressing. It’s so cold my toes are shivering. Inside Safeway is mercifully warm, but totally understocked and overcrowded. Who shops this early? It’s 8:00 am on a Saturday, people. And it seems everyone has my idea because there’s only one box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts left, so I snatch it.
Call it love or guilt, or just plain addiction, but I decide to trudge a little further and grab Starbucks for the three of us. I heard Josh stumble in after two last night—he’s going to need the caffeine. David, too. I hope he didn’t tell Josh about my conversation with Claire.
Of course, he’d run into her because that’s just our luck. I was the brilliant one who introduced them. She was the exception to our rule—Josh and I don’t generally date each other’s friends. The line has to be drawn somewhere. I guess it’s a little blurry. We may have crossed it a few times. And then there’s David. But you can’t count him. Josh and Claire, though, they were never supposed to be more than a flirtationship. Just for fun, nothing serious.
We met through a mutual friend. And there she was at Duke, same major as Josh. Freshman year had been rough for both of us; I thought she’d lighten him up. Claire is a fun girl, and Josh can be a bit…moody. He wasn’t interested at first, but she wore him down, asked him out every weekend for a month. I think he agreed just to get her off his back.
Somehow Claire’s persistence paid off, though. They dated all through college, but no one saw marriage in the future. He’s never wanted to marry. Nick and Vivian weren’t exactly role models of fidelity. Needless to say, the engagement came out of nowhere, as did his bizarre proposal. And holy crap, what a mistake. Claire knew it. Josh knew it. David and I had endless discussions about it.
Or rather, I talked, and he listened. But, whatever.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Claire—we all do. Did. It’s confusing. Our friendship sort of fizzled after Josh fled. And by fled, I’m talking literally; he bolted.
Straight to David in Maryland, of course. Like I couldn’t have predicted that. Only I was still in North Carolina, left to deal with his mess. Claire wanted me to act as a go-between, and he wanted nothing to do with her. Eventually, it got too awkward, and I avoided her altogether. It was a bitchy thing to do, I know. I’ve always regretted it.
We had some good times, Claire, Josh, David, and I. Traveled a little. We even spent a summer working at this resort community on the Outer Banks. But it was all superficial. She didn’t know anything real about us.
Josh and I never told her we grew up as twins. We weren’t telling anyone back then. After learning the truth and leaving home, it felt wrong perpetuating a lie. It still feels wrong. I can never deny being Josh’s sister, Nick made sure of that. But I certainly don’t have to advertise it.
Especially after what happened between him and I freshman year. Another one of those elephant-in-the-room situations. We’ve got a lot of them. It’s a mess.
We are a mess.
Anyway, it seemed easier at the time, pretending to be friends than brother and sister. With new people, at least. Not much of a stretch, honestly. We never felt like siblings, let alone twins, even before we knew the truth.
Gosh, if they had married? I can’t imagine it. How would we have explained? And where would David and I be? Married too, maybe? Probably. Ugh, my heart hurts. It’s such a—
Thwack!!!
A jogger clips my shoulder as he speeds by, jostling my arm. Hot coffee sloshes everywhere and the bag falls from my hand.
“Jerk,” I mutter, reaching for it as I glare after him. The guy is tall and lanky with a long, loping stride. He’s already a block away without so much as a glance back in my direction. I wipe up the coffee, fuming. Some people…
But, as I’m wiping, an odd sense of déjà vu falls over me. Spilled coffee. This feels familiar. Like it’s happened here before. I turn back to the man, catching one last glimpse before he disappears past Loonies. He’s dressed in black from head to toe.
I heave a sigh, tightening the lids, and that’s when it comes to me. I have been here before. Three weeks ago, with the boys. Right here in Canton Square.
We’d been coming home from breakfast, and I was walking next to David. Josh had been joking around, pretending to burp in his face or something. I yanked David away, upsetting the coffee in Josh’s hand. He tripped, and they both fell.
It was a mess.
There’d been a jogger that day, too. I remember because he was in all black.
Could it be the same guy?
Maybe. There’s over a half million people in Baltimore, but it can feel smaller than a front porch. Speaking of which, I glance at my watch, and… oh, shoot! I’ve got to get moving if I want to surprise the boys. I check the lids one last time, make sure the doughnuts are intact, and book it towards home.
9:32 am
Foster Avenue, Baltimore, Maryland
The house is quiet when I get back.
I tiptoe through the living room, pausing a moment, just to appreciate it. This is the only room we’ve fully renovated, and I love it. One wall is exposed brick, and the others are this gray-blue color called payne gray. I liked the name honestly, that’s why I picked it. The color reminds me of the sky before a storm. With the soft lighting, dark walls, and the oil-rubbed bronze fixtures, it feels like a sea of tranquility in here.
The kitchen? Not so much.
I unpack my bags and set to work on the doughnuts.
I got the idea on Pinterest under “diabolical office pranks.” Don’t ask. I like the word diabolical; someone had pinned it to a board, and one thing led to another. Anyway, the instructions called for toothpaste, but I thought mayonnaise would be even better.
I start by carving long, cylinder-like holes into each doughnut. Then, I dump an entire jar of mayonnaise into a plastic bag, cut a hole in the bottom corner, and load each one with my substitute crème. For the final step, I neatly line up my new and improved Krispy Kreme’s in the original box and place it on the table for the boys to discover.
This is definitely one of my better pranks!
I grab what’s left of the coffee, head upstairs, and tiptoe into their room. Poor David, he’s practically falling off the bed. Josh is sprawled across the middle with his face down, all tangled in a sea of blankets and pillows. David has nothing, not even a sheet. His only cover is a thin gray T-shirt that says, I’d flex but I like this shirt. I got it for him as a joke a few months back when the two of them were on a workout kick.
It looks like he was trying to get away from Josh, then gave up and fell asleep. Probably not far from the truth—Josh has no concept of personal space. He’s quite snuggly if you like being suffocated.
I set the coffee on David’s desk and roll open the shades, trying not to recall finding him in here last week. But my eyes are immediately drawn to the closet. All I see is David lying there, blood leaking from his forehead, arm grotesquely bent.
Josh was building shelves. David’s head grazed an unfinished corner when he fell, hence all the blood. Josh sanded it down a few days ago. He doesn’t want me to know how worried he is, but I can tell. And David couldn’t be less cooperative, refusing to deal with anything but his arm. The thought of something happening to him nauseates me.
I kneel on the floor beside him, and good Lord, he’s a beautiful mess. Dark, satiny curls, cheeks all flush with sleep. He’s got his casted arm propped on his chest, and his little forehead bandage thingy is peeling off.
Hmm. I thought the stitches would’ve dissolved by now.
I trace gently around the incision and study him. Those full, sensual lips, slightly parted and enticingly curved. Smooth ivory skin, thick baby-doll lashes. Even his leg, slung gracefully over the side of the bed, is a sculpted thing of beauty.
Josh stirs, and I marvel at the two of them, so similar, yet so different. Josh has the rugged build of a lacrosse player. He’s all brute strength and shaggy scruff. David reminds me of an Olympic swimmer, with his slender limbs and taut muscle. Not an ounce of fat on his body, just pure, lean male perfection.
I slide my fingertips over his face, pausing to stroke his lips, which spread into a grin as he swats my hand away.
“That tickles, Kate.”
“You should’ve been a swimmer,” I tell him, and climb in between them.
We used to sleep like this back when we were young and naïve, and life seemed a lot less complicated.
Not sexual. I mean, we’ve done that. Separately, not all three of us. We’re not, you know, threesome people. At least not Josh, he’d probably die.
David might not mind. He’s got an irreverent side beneath that calm demeanor. But then, he doesn’t know about Josh and I. Not that he’d care. I mean he would. It was an awful mistake. Like, epically stupid. A dreadful moment of weakness on both our parts. And if we’d gotten caught? If Nick ever found out?
No. No. I can’t think about it.
Besides, it was so long ago. And it only happened once. I could forget completely if it hadn’t been for—
Ugh, Kate. Stop!
How do I go from sex to self-sabotage? What was I thinking about? Oh right, sleep. My point is, there’s something about sleeping together that feels more intimate than sex. You’re vulnerable when you sleep. It takes trust to lie beside someone and close your eyes, which is probably why it bothers me so much, them together.
Maybe we should have a threesome.
David’s eyes flutter open. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Three…” I say, then clear my throat, “…um…three cups of coffee on the desk over there.”
Holy crap, I almost said threesome.
He laughs and pulls me close. “Liar,” he whispers, stroking my hair. “That’s not what you were thinking.” His skin is warm from sleep and smells of him. A musky-clean, indefinable David scent that’s as sensual as it is comforting.
Josh shifts in the bed beside me. “At least he’s not trying to snuggle with you,” I whisper, pressing closer to David.
“I heard that,” Josh mumbles.
David is just watching, all sleepy and dreamy-eyed. I can’t suppress the wild fluttering in my belly. Those indigo eyes will be the absolute end of me. I can’t even.
“Why did you go out so early?” he asks, weaving his legs between mine. The electrifying heat of his skin causes an immediate stir in my below-the-stomach region. I let out a soft moan and Josh lifts his head.
“Seriously, Kate? Some of us are trying to sleep.” And he yanks the blanket over his head.
I momentarily consider a snide Claire comment, but David’s distracting me, rubbing his smooth legs against mine, fingering the skin beneath my hair. His lips brush my neck, and the sensation is delicious. Toe tingling. I arch my back, so his hips press into my backside, my body abuzz with desire.
Until Josh starts grumbling. “Ugh. I feel like shit!”
Well, you should.
I almost say this, but David hates when we argue, and I don’t want him to stop touching me, so I bite my tongue. The three of us lie in silence for a few minutes as I bask in a sea of swirling hormones, safely cocooned inside David’s arms. But then Josh has to go and sleep-fart, which ruins the moment because David and I can’t stop gagging.
A quick vibration against my thigh causes me to jump. David pulls his phone from a pocket and the name Hadley catches my attention. I lean closer.
“Why is Hadley texting you?” I ask.
Predictably, David doesn’t respond. Hadley’s one of my best friends; we’ve known each other forever. They’re friendly too, I guess. We all went to the same high school. But I wasn’t aware they were text buddies. I’m a little put off.
He reads the message and pockets his phone.
“David?”
“Kate.”
“Could you two shut up?” Josh moans. “Massive headache over here.”
Irritated, I yank the pillow away from him. “Sleep in your own bed!”
Josh wraps his arms around his chest in a little self-hug, and curls into the fetal position. “What did Hadley want?” he asks after a minute.
But David’s just watching, and gosh, those eyes. I lunge at him, reaching into his pocket for the phone. His shorts are silky thin, and instead of the phone, I grasp something thick and warm and much more desirable.
Holy freaking hardness.
His eyes grow wide. And my hand has a mind of its own because it’s holding on for dear life. Heat rushes to my face and back down south as I palm the full length of him. Which is spectacular, by the way. It’s been months, but a girl remembers because I’m getting soaked. Seriously. Horny blonde lust-puddle right here. And David? He’s grinning like he won first prize in a raffle.
Of course, he is.
So, here’s the story with David and I. We’ve been on-and-off-again for years. Exclusive dating, friends with benefits, friends without benefits— you name it, we’ve tried it. I know he loves me, that is something I’ve never doubted. But life gets in the way sometimes. And we’ve had our share of hurdles. Besides, it’s his friendship I value most.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. I want him. Like, all the freaking time. But I care about Josh, too. And, odd as it sounds, the three of us function better as a unit when the pressure of a relationship is removed.
Which is why I suggested sorting things out this year without the added stress of dating. And, you know…sex. It sounded like a good idea at the time. Fix up the house, forget the past, face our futures with a healthy mindset, and a bunch of other crap I can’t remember.
It doesn’t seem so wise right now.
I remove my hand.
“Sorting things out,” I whisper.
He puts it back. “Sort this,” he says, and winks at me.
And I can’t hold it together, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts and the bed’s shaking. He feels so hot and hard in my hand I might spontaneously combust.
Then Josh plants a knee in my back.
“Quit fooling around,” he mutters. “Answer the Hadley question.”
I seriously want to throttle him. Instead, I draw a deep, calming breath and compose myself. I then neatly, reluctantly, reposition David’s penis and pull out his actual phone.
“You can have both,” he offers with a seductive grin that, frankly, makes me want to rip his clothes off and straddle him right here, Josh be damned. He runs a finger along my inner thigh.
But Josh has had enough. He jerks our cover off, and he and David exchange a look I can’t read. David sits up and pulls away from me with a frown. He runs a hand through his beautiful tangle of curls.
“All right, you two. Don’t freak out. Remember that wedding I was invited to? Isabelle Keats? It turns out Hadley is going. She asked me to take her.”
My mouth drops open. What the—
“Which I’m not going to do,” he continues quickly, noting my expression. “We came up with an idea, though.” He turns to Josh. “Don’t say no, but what if I bring Kate and you go with Hadley?”
Josh’s brow lifts, then quickly narrows. “Yeah. No. Not happening.”
“Come on, J. It’s in the Outer Banks, not far from where we worked that summer. Memorial weekend, we could hang out at the beach...”
He’s not buying it. “What, the four of us? Doesn’t Hadley have a boyfriend? That guy from Jersey?”
“They broke up,” David and I say in unison, and I bristle.
Just how often have they been texting, anyway?
Josh makes a face like he’s swallowed something sour. “I am not hooking up with Hadley.”
“Easy, Romeo,” David laughs. “This isn’t a set up. She just needs a date.”
Meanwhile, this is a pointless conversation. Hadley and Josh get along fine, but there’s no romance happening. It’s a little suspicious, her going behind my back and asking David, though.
He’s still trying to persuade Josh. “They reserved a whole row of houses for the guests. A bunch of people from high school will be there. It’s a pretty sweet set up. Private, beachfront community, heated pool. You could do some fishing, J. You love to fish.”
Josh’s scowl deepens. “So, basically everyone we know was invited but Kate and I? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No. That’s what I’m not saying.” He tousles Josh’s hair. “Let it go, already. Who cares if you weren’t invited? It could be a fun weekend. We haven’t seen some of those guys in years.”
“I don’t give a shit about them, or the stupid wedding.” He looks pointedly at the two of us. “And I’m not going with Hadley, so just put that thought right out of your minds.”
David nudges me. We both know Josh will go. He won’t be able to stand the thought of us there without him. He is one hundred percent transparent and adorably needy. I love that about him.
“You’re so predictable, Joshie,” I say. And I mean it affectionately, only it doesn’t come off that way.
“Shut it, Kate.”
“Well, you are,” I fume, instantly triggered by his nasty tone. “I predicted everything you’d do last night. Didn’t I, D?”
No response.
He is not going to back me on anything Claire-related. We discussed it at length last night. This is one of those times I should probably listen to him and keep quiet. Unfortunately, I’m not a keep-quiet kind of girl. I’m more of the say-it-and-immediately-regret-it variety. And once I’m on a roll…
“Shall we recount Josh’s night? Ran out on Claire like a coward, got drunk in a dive bar, stumbled in here late enough to avoid me. What am I missing? Panic attack? Vomit session? What?”
Ever the pacifist, David clamps a hand over my mouth. “Escape while you can,” he tells Josh as I attempt to peel him off.
Josh just groans. “I’m not talking about Claire,” he mumbles. “Don’t start, Kate.”
“She called me last night, you know.”
Oh Lord, did I let that fly?
David sighs heavily and releases me. He lays back, no doubt resigned to whatever drama is about to unfold.
Josh covers his ears. “Not hearing you,” he says in a sing-song-y voice.
“Oh, that’s real mature.” And this, right here is where I should stop.
But I don’t.
Instead, I get all up in his face. “Well, hear this, Joshua. She spoke to the guys from the station after you left.”
And there’s this tiny moment of satisfaction at my little reveal, I’m not going to lie. But it’s completely squashed by the look of defeat on his precious face.
What am I doing?
I backpedal. “I mean, I don’t think she said much. Just that you two were friends from college or something.”
No chance Josh believes this. His eyes close. “So,” he says dully, “what’s she doing in Baltimore?”
I’m a wretch. I hate myself right now.
“Work, I think. Some computer exhibit at the convention center. Listen,” I’m going to have to come clean with him, get it over with. “She’s around all weekend.” I pause, really, really regretting this. “I may have invited her over tonight.”
Josh looks at me like I’ve sprouted horns.
“What was I supposed to do, Josh? She’s still hurting.”
“I don’t know. How about NOT THAT? I mean, what the fuck, Kate! Did you invite Nick and Vivian over, too?” He stumbles out of bed and turns, unable to mask the hurt. “I’d think you of all people would understand.”
“Josh—”
“Don’t!” He grabs a towel and lumbers toward the door. “I’m taking a shower.”
“I feel for her, J. She needs closure.”
“Yeah, well, who doesn’t?” he mutters and slams the door.
I turn to David, but he’s giving me the why-can’t-you-keep-your-mouth-shut look.
“I think that went well,” he says stretching out in the bed. “Nice work.”
I glare at him, but then hear Josh head downstairs instead of straight to the bathroom.
Oh no, the doughnuts! I completely forgot!
He is not in a prank state of mind. The absolute horror must be written on my face because David sits up. “What’s the matter?”
He’s so hungover. Probably getting Advil from the kitchen, right? No chance he’d consider eating a doughnut. Nevertheless, I sprint across the room and throw open their door just in time to hear his thunderous cry. Seconds later he bounds up the stairs with more speed than I’d have thought possible. David’s behind me in the doorway.
“What’d you do now?” he whispers.
Words are lost on me. “Doughnuts,” is all I manage to squeak before Josh is in my face, creamy mayonnaise clinging to the stubble on his upper lip. I should probably mention Josh detests mayonnaise.
He gives me a venomous look, balls up both fists, and literally roars. “KATHERINE!”
Beside me, David has finally caught up with the situation. He’s trying desperately not to lose it, but I can feel his laughter emanating. Is it wrong part of me feels disappointed? My prank was meant for both boys, after all. And I kind of wanted to see them take a bite.
Probably not what I should be focusing on.
There’s no way to salvage this. Josh is enraged to the point of lunacy. So, I shrug and play it coy.
“Um…April Fools’?”