Page 109 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
“We aren’t insane, Tessa,” I say, my voice low and steady, vibrating in the small space. “We’re solving the problem.”
“The problem is that you’re in my apartment after I quit!” She tries to yank her hand away, but I hold her wrist flat against the table. I’m not hurting her, I’m securing her. I need her to stop moving so she can hear me.
“The problem,” she insists, “is that I have a signed contract with Nebula, my life packed in these boxes, and you’re standing in my way!”
“Yes,” I say, refusing to flinch. “We’re going to share you. All of us. Because I can’t let you go, and neither can they.”
“Ethan—”
“The real problem,” I correct, leaning down until our faces are inches apart, “is that you’re trying to run away from the only place you belong.”
“I belong somewhere where the CEO doesn’t threaten to sue me!” she shouts. Her voice cracks, a fissure of genuine pain that slices straight through my chest. “I belong somewhere where my boss doesn’t weaponize my rent against me!”
I flinch. I can’t help it.
I look around the apartment properly for the first time.
I knew, on paper, that she was struggling. I saw the credit report. I saw the bank balances. But seeing the reality of it is different. The living room is cramped. The carpet is threadbare gray,stained from previous tenants. There’s a single window looking out onto a brick wall.
And, it’s empty.
There are boxes everywhere. Stacks of books. A cat carrier by the door.
She was really leaving.
The reality of it sinks its claws into my chest. She wasn’t bluffing. She wasn’t playing a game to get a raise. She was going to walk away from the salary, the equity, the career—all to get away from the confusion we caused.
She was willing to burn her life down just to escape me.
A sharp guilt rises in my throat. I threatened to sue a woman who’s taping up boxes in a sweltering apartment because she can’t afford to stay.
“I’m not going to sue you,” I say.
“You said?—”
“I lied,” I admit roughly. The confession tastes like ash, but I force it out.
Tessa shoves my chest, a hard, angry strike that actually makes me stumble back a step.
“You let me panic,” she hisses, her voice trembling with rage. “I packed my entire life because I thought you were going to destroy me, and it was just a tactic?”
“It wasn’t a tactic,” I say, catching her wrists before she can hit me again. “It was desperation.”
She stares at me, her chest heaving as she searches my face. I let the CEO mask drop completely. I let her see exactly how terrified I am of losing her.
“You… panicked?”
“I’m human, Tessa. Contrary to popular belief.”
“He was panicking,” Owen supplies from behind me. His voice is tight, lacking its usual playful bounce. I can feel him hovering, his energy frantic and jagged. “He punched a heavy bag for an hour straight this morning. He’s a mess without you. We all are.”
“Shut up, Owen,” I growl, never taking my eyes off Tessa.
“It’s true,” Asher adds. He’s standing with his back against the locked door, blocking her only exit. “He’s volatile. I haven’t seen him this unstable since the desert.”
Tessa turns her glare on him. “And you? You picked my lock. You tracked my phone. That’s a felony, Asher, not a ‘romance tactic.’”
Asher flinches. He lowers his gaze to the floor, looking genuinely chastised.
