Page 134 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
She gestures to the three men on the porch. They look like a lineup of hungover models. Ethan in sunglasses. Owen leaning on the railing. Asher checking his watch.
“I will,” I promise.
She hugs me tight. “Love you, T.”
“Love you too.”
She gets in the car. She waves. The car drives off.
We stand there on the sidewalk. We watch the car turn the corner. We watch it disappear down 6th Street.
The street falls quiet.
Then, slowly, the tension breaks. It’s a physical snap.
Ethan lets out a long, heavy breath. He loosens his tie.
“Is she gone?” Owen asks.
“She’s gone,” I confirm.
“Is the tracker active?” Ethan asks.
“She’s two blocks away,” Asher confirms. “Moving at thirty miles per hour away from the apartment.”
“Good,” Ethan says.
He turns to me.
We’re on a public street. It’s Sunday morning. People are walking dogs.
He grabs my face. He kisses me.
It’s a desperate, starving kiss. It tastes like stale coffee and mint. I melt into him, my hands finding the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer, anchoring myself.
“God,” he groans against my mouth. “I hated that. I hated every second of pretending I didn’t want you.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
“Group hug!” Owen yells.
He crashes into us, wrapping his arms around both of us. Asher steps in, completing the circle, resting his forehead against the back of my head.
We stand there, huddled together on the sidewalk.
“We did it,” Owen says into my hair. “We launched. We survived Harper. We’re invincible.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Asher mutters.
“We’ve got a company to run,” Ethan says, pulling back, though his hand stays firmly on my waist. “And we’ve got a celebration to finish.”
He looks at me. The Best Friend mask is gone. The CEO mask is gone.
“Back inside,” he commands. “Lock the door. No one leaves until Monday.”
I smile. A real smile.
“Yes, sir.”
