In Love With My Best Friend's Twin

In Love With My Best Friend's Twin Nova Avery Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Nova Avery All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. Phoebe 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Chapter 14 15. Chapter 15 16. Chapter 16 17. Chapter 17 18. Chapter 18 19. Chapter 19 20. Chapter 20 21. Chapter 21 22. Chapter 22 23. Chapter 23 24. Chapter 24 25. Chapter 25 Epilogue The End Thank you for reading. Want More Of Nova Avery? 1 Phoebe I was going to be late. Which was nothing out of the ordinary for me, but today of all days was the worst time for me to be late. Because if I didn’t make it to the airport in time, I could kiss sunny days and toes in the sand goodbye. All of my dreams of getting sunburnt while drinking margaritas would fly away with the plane that I was supposed to be on. As soon as my cab pulled up to the drop-off zone at the airport, I threw the door open, barely letting the cab come to a full stop before I launched myself out of the door and onto the curb. I ran behind the cab, yanking open the trunk and using all my strength to pull the large suitcase out. It fell to the ground as soon as I got it out of the trunk, and I scrambled to set it on its wheels. I had already thrown my tip to the driver, so as soon as I closed the back, he pulled away from the curb. I huffed, yelling something sarcastic about how great a help he was as he drove off. As if he would hear it. Rushing into the airport, I lugged the monstrous hardshell suitcase behind me, taking off into a run. I was sure that plenty of people were staring at me and giving me odd looks for being that person in an airport, but I cared more about my tropical mimosas than I did about their opinions of me. I got in line to check my bag, sweat beading on my forehead. I looked at my watch to see that my boarding time was supposed to be right now. Tapping my foot against the ground, I prayed that the line would move quickly. Thankfully, there were no issues with anyone in front of me, and I moved quickly to put my bag on the scale. Fortunately, it was one pound lighter than the limit. A breath of relief only made it halfway out of my mouth when I remembered I still had to get through security and find my gate. Panic welled up in me as I tried to follow all of the signs that led to the security check. It didn’t matter how many times I had been to the airport, I would always be confused as to where I was supposed to go for each step of the process. Could the airports not have made the signage easier to understand? I couldn’t be the only person who thought that their methods of communication were lacking when it came to directions. I finally made it to the TSA check in and I grinned, letting out a loud sigh—again, I didn’t care if anyone thought I was weird—because the travel gods had prepared my way this day. The line was surprisingly short, but I guessed that was because it was almost ten-thirty at night. My heart raced as I walked all the way to the conveyor where I would lay my personal items and my shoes. I fumbled my way through the security checkpoint, getting a glare from a couple as I whizzed by them barefoot after snatching my shoes and bag out of the bucket on the other side of the body scanner. There was no time to lose, so I began running—yes, barefoot—through the crowded New York City airport. I wouldn’t even look at my watch, hoping that I’d make it in enough time to not look like a fool to everyone on the plane. I had to be on that plane for twelve hours with all of those people, and I couldn’t have everyone talking about how tardy I was or how I ran onto the plane like a crazed cat looking for the last ball of yarn at a kitty convention. I finally made it to my gate, noticing that there was no one in the seats surrounding it. But—again, thank the airport gods—the doors to the gate were still open. I calmed myself and slowed my pace to a hurried walk as I approached the airline worker at the gate. “Hi, I’m here!” I told her, knowing that I sounded like an old squeaky toy with how much I was wheezing. I worked out at least once a month, so I didn’t understand how I could be so out of shape. “Ticket?” the woman asked, her expression blank and unenthused. “Oh,” I said, scrambling to pull my phone out of my personal bag to get the ticket out. My heart raced in embarrassment as the woman stared at me. I finally got it pulled out and showed it to her. She took my phone and scanned the barcode on my ticket before handing it back to me. When she didn’t say anything and didn’t even look at me again, I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “Am I good to-to get on?” Again, this was one of the things that I would never be good at, no matter how many times I went to an airport. Was I supposed to wait for her to tell me that I could go through the