Page 4 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
She looks at me and pauses. Her eyes narrow.
“Whoa. You look…” She rakes her eyes over the red slip. “Incredible. But also like you’re about to commit a felony. Are you okay? You’re vibrating.”
“Job nerves!” I blurt out, putting the car in drive a little too aggressively. “Just thinking about Monday. The pressure. It’s a lot.”
Harper laughs, a knowing little sound that I’m too panicked to parse. “Tess, you’re going to crush it. You’re the best there is. Trust me.”
I swallow hard. If only she knew. If only she knew the real reason I’m shaking is because I accidentally sexted her brothers.
“Yeah,” I manage. “Trust.”
I focus on the road, gripping the steering wheel hard enough to cramp my fingers. I can’t tell her. I absolutely cannot tell her. She’d die of laughter, and then she’d kill me. And then her brothers would know that she knows, and it would become a thing.
“So,” Harper says, scrolling through her phone. “Where are we going? You’ve been so secretive.”
“It’s a surprise,” I manage, my voice an octave higher than usual. “Just a new lounge I found called Velvet.”
The venue is perfect. It’s a sleek, dim lounge rented out for the night just for us. The windows are tinted, the lighting is low and sultry—perfect for hiding a blush, thank god.
We walk up to the doors. I can feel the music thrumming inside. My phone screen lights up through the mesh of my clutch, and I jump.
“You okay?” Harper asks, eyeing me.
“Fine! Never better.” I push the doors open. “SURPRISE!”
The roar hits us instantly. The room is packed with our friends from college, family, and everyone we know. Balloons float against the ceiling, and a banner reading GOOD LUCK HARPER is draped across the back wall.
Harper gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my god! Tessa!”
She spins around and hugs me, practically tackling me. “You did this? You liar! You said we were going for drinks!”
“We are going for drinks,” I laugh, hugging her back, feeling the tension in my shoulders loosen just a fraction. “Just… with about fifty other people. We’ve been planning this for weeks. Me and your brothers.”
“My brothers?” Harper pulls back, tears in her eyes. “They helped? But they’re so busy.”
“Yeah,” I say, my smile faltering slightly as the memory of the group chat crashes back into my brain. “They were very involved. Especially with the… logistics.”
Harper squeals and turns to scan the room. “Where are they?”
I look over her shoulder. It takes me half a second to find them. The room is crowded, but they cut through the noise.
They’re standing near the bar, a wall of broad shoulders and expensive suits that make everyone else in the room look underdressed.
Owen is grinning, holding a beer, leaning back with that easy, dangerous charm. He spots me instantly, lifting his bottle in amock salute, his eyes dropping to the red dress with a knowing smirk.
Asher is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are dark, tracking my movement like a hawk watching a field mouse and staring at the red dress like he’s already figured out how to get it off me.
And in the middle… Ethan.
He’s holding a tumbler of whiskey, his jaw set, looking furious and hungry all at once. His gaze drops to the red silk, tracing the low neckline, the cling of the fabric over my hips, the high slit. When his eyes snap back up to mine, the heat hits me like a physical blow from across the room.
My phone buzzes in my clutch again.
I’m in so much trouble.
2
OWEN
