Page 133 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
Asher: Server load stabilized at 150k concurrent users. We’re operational.
Asher: Also, I’m hiding behind the server rack. Harper is looking for me. Please extract.
Owen: I see you guys by the window. Ethan, stop undressing her with your eyes. You’re scaring the investors.
Ethan: Shut up and get Harper away from us. I need five minutes with Tessa.
Owen: Negative. Ghost protocol is active. No contact. Suffer in silence, boss.
I look up. Across the room, Owen’s leaning against a pillar, winking at me. He taps his phone.
Me: I hate you all.
Ethan: Liar.
Owen: Liar.
Asher: Bullshit.
I smile at my screen.
“Hey!”
Harper appears. She’s flushed, sweaty, and holding a bottle of champagne. She throws an arm around Ethan’s neck and grabs my hand.
“Look at you two!” she yells over the music. “So serious! Smile! We’re rich!”
She holds up her phone. “Selfie!”
She snaps it.
In the photo, Harper’s beaming in the middle. Ethan’s looking at the camera with a tight, forced smile. And I’m looking at Ethan.
I see the photo on her screen. My expression is… naked. It’s the look of a woman who is hopelessly, desperately in love.
“Send that to me,” I say quickly. “I need to… approve it for social.”
“Done!” Harper laughs. “I’m posting it. Caption: The Brains and the Beauty.”
She kisses Ethan’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you, big brother. You finally built something that connects people.”
Ethan flinches slightly. “Thanks, Harp.”
“And you!” She squeezes my hand. “My genius best friend. You guys make a hell of a team.”
“We do,” Ethan says. He looks at me over Harper’s head. The heat in his eyes is enough to melt the glass in my hand. “We really do.”
The sun is brutal on Sunday morning. My head hurts from the champagne.
The Uber is waiting on the curb.
Harper hugs me on the sidewalk outside my apartment.
“I can’t believe I have to leave,” she pouts. “It was too short.”
“You have fashion week prep,” I remind her. “Go finish your internship. Then come back and be a rich heiress.”
“I will,” she promises. “And you… take care of them, okay? They’re terrible at taking care of themselves.”
