Page 129 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
“Why not?”
“Because I’m building an empire, Harper.”
“You can build an empire and get laid,” Harper argues. “Napoleon did it. Look at Owen. Owen, tell me you’re seeing someone.”
Owen chokes on his crust.
I stare at my pizza. Don’t look at Owen. Don’t look at Owen.
“I’m… seeing people,” Owen says vaguely.
“People? Plural?” Harper rolls her eyes. “Of course. The playboy brand remains strong. Anyone special?”
“Maybe,” Owen says. His eyes flick to me. Just a dart. A microscopic movement.
I feel the heat rise in my cheeks.
“Ooh!” Harper sits up. “Tessa! You’re blushing! Do you know who it is? Tell me! Is she pretty? Is she smart? Is she a bitch?”
“She’s…” I stammer. “She’s very smart. And… complicated.”
“Complicated is good,” Harper decides. “Keeps him on his toes.” She turns to me. “What about you, T? Any French lovers while I was gone? Any brooding artists?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Just work. Ethan works me too hard.”
“Slave driver.” Harper throws a pepperoni at Ethan. He catches it. “But seriously, Tess. You need to get out more. You’re going to wither away in that office.”
“I’m happy,” I say softly.
I look up. I catch Ethan watching me. His expression is unguarded for just a second—a look of such raw, possessive hunger that my stomach flips.
“I bet you are,” Harper says, oblivious. “Working with these three? It’s a miracle you haven’t killed them. Or slept with them.”
She laughs.
The room falls completely silent.
Asher stops chewing. Owen goes rigid. Ethan’s hand tightens around his beer bottle until the glass groans, threatening to shatter.
Harper looks around. “That was a joke. You guys know that was a joke, right? Ew. Incest vibes. Gross.”
“Very gross,” Owen forces a laugh. “Tessa is… like a sister.”
“A sister,” Ethan repeats. His voice is flat.
“Exactly,” I say. My voice sounds high and tinny. “Sister.”
I stand up.
“I need more napkins,” I say.
I flee to the kitchen. I grip the counter, breathing hard.
Sister.
The word tastes like ash.
A hand touches my back.
