Page 68 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
“Maybe I don’t want to be protected,” she whispers. She reaches out, her hand resting on the lapel of my jacket. Her fingers burn through the fabric. “Maybe I want to be in the mess.”
I stare at her.
She slept with Owen. I know it. Owen didn’t say it, but the smug look on his face all week confirmed it. And tonight, she almost let Asher kiss her in a stairwell.
She’s working her way through us. She’s a contagion.
And God help me, I want to be infected.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Tessa,” I warn her.
“I’m not playing,” she says. “I’m just trying to find where I fit.”
“You don’t fit here,” I say, pushing off the wall. “Go back to the party. Go find Owen. He’s the fun one, right?”
“Ethan—”
“Go,” I order. “Before I do something we can’t undo.”
She stares at me for a heartbeat, her expression hurt. Then she pushes past me and runs up the stairs.
I watch her go. I watch the sway of her hips in that damned black dress.
I pull out my phone. I open the group chat.
Ethan: Meeting. My office. Midnight.
It’s time to end this.
We are trapped in a six-by-six steel box, and I am willing the elevator to move faster.
I stand at the front, staring at the digital numbers ticking upward. 20… 21… 22…
Behind me, I can hear them breathing. Owen is shifting his weight from foot to foot, a restless energy radiating off him. Asher is perfectly still, silent as a ghost.
And Tessa.
I can smell her jasmine perfume over the stale office air. It taunts me.
The doors slide open with a cheerful ding that sounds entirely inappropriate for the mood.
“My office,” I bark, stepping out into the darkened lobby of Mosaic.
“Ethan,” Owen starts, his voice weary. “It’s midnight. We’ve been drinking. Maybe we should do this in the morning.”
“My office,” I repeat, not breaking stride. “Now.”
I walk past the empty reception desk, past the rows of silent computers, and throw open the door to my glass-walled office. I don’t turn on the overhead lights. The city glow from the floor-to-ceiling windows is enough.
I toss my jacket onto a chair and loosen my tie. It feels like a noose.
Owen and Asher walk in. Tessa follows slowly, hugging her arms around herself. That damned backless dress is a shadow against her skin. She looks exhausted. She looks scared.
Good. She should be scared.
We are playing with fire, and I seem to be the only one who realizes the building is burning down.
“Sit.”
