Page 122 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
I’m the last to change.
I stand in front of the mirror in Tessa’s small bathroom. I look at my reflection. Usually, I don’t recognize the man in the mirror. He’s a stranger. A vessel for the code.
But today, I see something different. My eyes are brighter. The tension in my jaw is gone. I look… awake.
Tessa steps up beside me. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt and a silk blouse. She’s pinning her hair back into a tight bun.
She meets my eyes in the mirror.
“Do I look like I just spent twenty-four hours in bed with my bosses?” she asks quietly.
I analyze her. Her hair’s perfect, makeup precise, and clothes crisp. But there’s a flush on her cheeks that makeup can’t hide. Her lipstick is flawless. And in her eyes, there’s a secret. A deep, burning secret.
“You look,” I say, “like you just got railed by three guys.”
She stops dead. “Asher.”
“Kidding,” I add, turning to face her. “You look fine.”
She softens. She reaches out, straightening my collar. Her fingers brush my neck, and the static threatens to return.
“We have to be careful, Asher,” she whispers. “Ethan is right. If the investors figure this out… if Vance finds out…”
“Vance is a blunt instrument,” I say dismissively. “He’s looking for a backdoor into our code, not our personal lives.”
“If he finds out about this,” she says, gesturing between us, “he’ll use it as leverage to tank the launch.”
“We don’t give him anything,” I say. “Rule one: We keep our hands off each other. Rule two: We don’t talk unless it’s about work. Rule three: Deny everything.”
“And Harper?” she asks.
“Harper is the firewall,” I say. “We don’t let her breach the perimeter. If she asks, you’re busy. We’re busy. The launch is the priority.”
“I hate lying to her,” she says again.
“It’s necessary,” I state. “To protect the system.”
“Ready?” Ethan’s voice cuts through the door.
Tessa takes a deep breath. She squares her shoulders. She grabs her bag.
“Ready,” she says.
She walks out of the bathroom. I follow her out to the living room, where Ethan and Owen are already waiting by the front door.
The ride up to the 40th floor is tense.
There are two other employees in the elevator—interns from the marketing department. They’re looking at their phones, terrified to make eye contact with the Phantom Trio.
Usually, I ignore them. Today, I’m hyper-aware of them.
I’m hyper-aware of everything.
I’m aware that Owen is standing six inches too close to Tessa. I’m aware that Ethan is standing in front of her, blocking her from the rest of the elevator, a subconscious shielding maneuver. I’m aware that Tessa is gripping her phone hard enough to crack the screen.
Ping.
The doors open.
