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Blurb:

For a moment, Jamie held the world, even though it wasn’t his to hold…
Jamie has spent his entire life playing the good twin. Now, he’s the one standing out after signing with Guillotine Records. Two years of being on his own in California hasn’t lessened his desire for the man who made it happen. Too bad that man belongs to one of Jamie’s oldest friends.
Fate is about to hand him an unexpected chance.
After losing everything, Hawke needs a break from reality. Too many lies and heartaches have left him with nothing except nightmares he can’t escape. Seeing Jamie again reminds him of a different time—one where Jamie made him feel a spark of something pure.
Can Jamie undo the years of damage caused by his so-called friend?
In the face of everything Maddox has done to Hawke, Jamie can’t let this chance pass him by. No friendship in the world is strong enough to overlook the pain Maddox has caused. Jamie can’t think of a thing he’d rather do than pick up the pieces of Hawke’s life, but will Hawke let him?
Sometimes the most beautiful relationships spring from the most broken places.



Excerpt:

Copyright © 2015 Charity Parkerson
All Rights Reserved. 

“You’re not meeting my gaze the way you used to.” Taking it as a challenge, Hawke did just that, refusing to blink. Jamie didn’t either. “Do I remind you too much of my brother? Knowing what he did, that is,” Jamie added, clearing up any doubts Hawke may’ve had over his reasoning. It seemed Maddox was still the elephant sitting between them. Maybe he always would be. An inner sigh reverberated off the walls inside his mind. Thoughts of Maddox left him exhausted.
“Reasonably, I know you’re identical,” Hawke began, attempting to find the right words. “But to me, the two of you look nothing alike. You never have. It’s always cracked me up whenever people get confused. The differences are massive.”
A mischievous smile shaped Jamie’s lips. Hawke swallowed a groan. He got the impression he’d walked into a trap. “Since you brought it up, I have to know how you do it.” Hawke shrugged, but Jamie was having none of it. “Nope. Seriously. I want a list.” Heat crept up Hawke’s neck. Jamie wasn’t going to stop until he had his answer.
“Um,” Hawke said, wondering where he should begin. The urge to squirm like a bug under the microscope overcame him. It was one thing to notice too much. It was another for someone else to dissect it. “Your eyes are a shade lighter than his,” Hawke said, going with the obvious.
“Yeah. I knew that, but so does everyone, yet you’re the only person who can tell us apart in a single glance even if I’m wearing shades, so spill.”
Shit. He should’ve known Jamie wouldn’t settle for that answer. He went with the next most obvious difference. “There’s a scar on your left wrist.”
“Uh-huh.” Jamie still didn’t sound convinced. “An unfortunate bondage experience. Go on.”
That explanation gave Hawke pause. All his discomfort fled. “Really?”
“Nope. You’re not getting out of this.’’
Damn it. Hawke really wanted to know. It seemed he wouldn’t find out until he did this. “Joss’ hair parts to the left, but yours is to the right—almost as if you trained it to go in a different direction from his.” Jamie’s lips parted in surprise. It forced Hawke to keep going. His confidence grew. “You smirk a half second before you smile. I’ve always wondered if you’re imagining every possible innuendo before deciding to keep it to yourself. Joss doesn’t do that. Of course, he’s—by nature—a happy person. Yours is forced. At least, it used to be.”
“I’m happy.”
Hawke ignored Jamie’s claim. Now that the flood gates stood open, he couldn’t stop the confessions from flowing out. Jamie had no idea how often Hawke studied his every feature. He wanted him to know. “Your hands move when you talk. A muscle ticks in your jaw every time you see me. You flinch when people call Joss by your name. A line appears between your eyes when people say that instead of who when referring to a person.” Hawke chuckled. “I’ve always loved that you’re a closet grammar Nazi.” He shook his head at the thought. There were so many things about Jamie, setting him apart from Joss, Hawke didn’t know which direction to go next. “Joss always immediately dismisses me. You don’t. I can feel your focus on my skin. Do you need me to keep this up? I have a million of these.”

Jamie’s expression was blank, giving nothing away. Hawke wanted to hear his every thought. For a moment, Hawke was frightened of how far he’d go to steal a single moment out of time with the man seated across from him.

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