He turned and started climbing again.

There was nothing I could do but trail after.

When the three of us finally reached the top of the stairs, Turner opened my apartment door and held it, waiting for me and the strange guy to go through. I tried to meet Turner’s eyes as I passed, but he was staring straight ahead, pretending he didn’t see me.

Okay. Fine.

Once we were all inside, and the door was firmly shut, I scowled at Turner and said, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“This is my brother,” Turner said. “He’s going to stay here for a few days.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked. My face felt hot—adrenaline kicking in. I was angry, and confused, and that was never a good combination. I wanted to punch Turner and fuck him at the same time.

“Only until Friday evening,” Turner said. “He won’t cause any trouble.”

“Look, this is batshit insane,” I said. “You can’t bring some strange dude to my apartment and tell me he’s going to stay here for two days. I don’t know who the fuck this guy is! And this is my apartment and you can’t just show up and order me around like—”

“He’s not ‘some strange dude,’” Turner said. “I already told you who he is. Consider this part of your services rendered.”

“No,” I snapped. “And how the fuck do you even know where I live? You’re a fucking stalker.”

“It’s in your file,” he said, still maddeningly calm in the face of my growing fury.

Christ. That stupid file. I’d forgotten. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you get to barge in to my house,” I said. My voice was getting louder and louder, and I hoped the guy who lived below me wasn’t home to hear me yelling. He would definitely call the cops.

“Alex, this is a terrible idea,” the strange guy said. Allegedly Turner’s brother. It was the first thing he’d said, and his voice sounded exactly like Turner’s: same pitch, same elegant way of rounding his vowels.

“Okay, yes, thank you, random dude,” I said, turning to him. I could see the family resemblance, now that I was paying attention. He was a little shorter than Turner, and stocky where Turner was lean, but he had the same dark eyes and the same nose. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. Can you please try to talk some sense into your idiotic brother?”

The guy shrugged. “I’ve already tried. He doesn’t listen to me.”

“Funny, he doesn’t listen to me either,” I said. “Turner, get the fuck out of my apartment. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

Turner gave me a dark look and opened his mouth, but I never found out what he was going to say, because just then I heard a key scraping in the lock, and the door swung open.

“Sasha? You home?”

Fuck. Yolanda was home early.

There wasn’t time to do anything, so I just stood there and watched as she came through the door, busily rummaging through her purse, and as she looked up and realized there were two strange men standing in her entryway. Her eyes widened. She took a step back, and the hand in her purse moved more quickly, searching for something.

“Yolanda, it’s okay,” I said, because she was definitely going for her mace, and I could just imagine Turner’s reaction if I let my roommate mace him. “They’re, um. Friends.”

“Friends,” Yolanda said, her voice dripping with disbelief and suspicion. “Right.”

“They’re just leaving,” I said, and looked at Turner. “Aren’t you?”

“My apologies,” Turner said, very stiffly. He was looking at Yolanda. “I didn’t realize you had a roommate.”

I wanted to tell him that’s what he got for appearing at my house unannounced, but Yolanda would have a field day with that, and I needed to defuse the situation, not make things worse. I didn’t know what to do, though. Yolanda looked so suspicious and uncomfortable, and I didn’t blame her. I would be pretty unsettled if I came home and there were two total strangers in my apartment.

Turner solved the problem for me. He smiled at Yolanda and said, “Yolanda, is that right?” She nodded, and he said, “I apologize for the intrusion. Sasha and I have some business to take care of—”

“Business,” Yolanda said. She glanced at me, and I saw the pieces fall into place in her brain. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide and round, and then she grinned. “Oh, I know exactly who you are.”

Turner frowned at me.

“I didn’t tell her your name!” I said defensively.

He let it go, but I knew I would be hearing about it later. “Yes. Anyway, this is my brother, Will. He’s going to sit in the living room and cause you no trouble whatsoever while I speak to Sasha for a few minutes.”

“Is that so?” Yolanda asked, very mild, and I tried not to grin. Turner had met his match.

His jaw moved to one side, a quick jerk, and I could tell he was frustrated. “If you don’t mind,” he said.

“Hmm,” Yolanda said. She finally took her hand out of her purse, and glanced at me again. I nodded, trying to tell her that everything was okay. She nodded back, and said to Turner, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll even make him a drink.”

Turner opened his mouth, but his brother beat him to the punch. “I’d be grateful for a glass of water,” he said.

I watched Turner as he closed his mouth and made that strange motion with his jaw again. Something had him all worked up, but I didn’t know what, and I still couldn’t figure out why in God’s name he had brought his brother to my apartment.

“Right,” Turner said. He took a step toward me and wrapped his hand around my upper arm. “Thank you. We’ll only be a few minutes.” To me, in a low voice, he said, “Where is your bedroom?”

I led the way. Before I closed the door behind us, I glanced back to check on Yolanda. She had led Will into the living room and was smiling at him as he said something, his hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders up around his ears, looking sheepish. Okay.

“They’ll be fine,” Turner said behind me. “Will is harmless.”

I shut the door and turned to face him. “If he’s anything like you, he’s anything but.”

“I wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Turner said, which was a blatant lie if I’d ever heard one.