Page 100 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
“Owen,” she breathes. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but her jaw is set in stone. “Don’t.”
I step inside, filling the small space with the cloying scent of burnt sugar and wet wool. The doors close behind me.
“Tess, wait. What did he do?” I demand, my chest heaving as I see the absolute finality in her posture. “You can’t just walk out. Not after everything.”
“I’m taking a half-day to finish the press kits remotely,” she says, her voice completely hollow. She stares straight ahead at the numbers counting down. “I told Ethan I’m not leaving you stranded. I’m working the launch. But after Saturday, I’m done.”
“Tess, look at me. What do you mean done?” I reach for her hand, but she snatches it away.
“Don’t charm me, Owen,” she warns, her voice shaking. “Don’t use the ‘nice guy’ voice. I just had your brother threaten to bankrupt me again. I am done with the Bransons.”
“I’m not Ethan,” I plead. “I’m the guy who made you pancakes. I’m the guy who spent the weekend with you. Doesn’t that matter?”
“It matters,” she whispers. She finally looks at me, and the heartbreak in her eyes hits me like a physical blow. “But it wasn’t enough to make you fight for me, was it?”
“You’re the one who ended it!” I argue, my chest heaving. “You texted me! You said you wanted to be professional!”
“And you said ‘okay’!” she yells, the tears finally spilling over. “One word, Owen. You just let me go! And then you stood by for two weeks playing the friendly coworker while Ethan treated me like garbage!”
“I was trying to respect your boundaries! I was trying to keep the Unit from falling apart!”
“Well, congratulations,” she says as the doors ding open on the lobby floor. “The Unit is safe. But you lost me.”
She steps out.
“Tess!” I call after her. “I love you!”
She freezes. For a second, just a second, I think she’s going to turn around.
Then she shakes her head.
“No, Owen,” she calls back, not looking at me. “You love the idea of me. But you love your brothers more.”
She walks out the revolving doors and into the heat of the Austin afternoon.
I stand there, paralyzed. My charm, my smile, my “golden retriever energy”—it all failed.
I hit the button for the executive floor.
The ride back up feels like a funeral procession.
When I step back onto the executive floor, the silence is deafening. I turn my head. Asher is standing by the server room door. He isn’t looking at his tablet. He isn’t looking at the floor. He is staring at the elevator doors where Tessa just disappeared, his eyes wide and unblinking.
He looks like someone has just cut the power to his mainframe.
“She’s gone,” Asher says.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice tight. “She’s gone.”
I turn and look toward the corner office.
The blinds are open. Ethan is standing there, staring at the empty reception desk. He looks like a stone.
I don’t bother knocking. I don’t bother with the “cool brother” act. I walk straight into the lion’s den, kick the door shut behind me, and slam my fist down on his desk.
Ethan doesn’t flinch.
“What did you do?” I demand.
