Page 131 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
Harper waltzes into the War Room. She drops a box of donuts on the table.
“Tess!” she comes over to me. “You look exhausted. Did you sleep?”
“Not really,” I admit.
“Nerves?”
“Something like that.”
I didn’t sleep because every time I closed my eyes, my body ached for them. Lying rigidly awake while Harper slept peacefully beside me—in the exact bed where her brothers completely wrecked me earlier—was torture.
“Well, you look hot anyway,” Harper says. She looks at the whiteboard. “This is genius. ‘Find Your Tribe’. I love it. Hey, where’s Asher?”
“Server room,” I point. “Don’t disturb him. He’s in God mode.”
“I’m going to go poke him,” she grins.
“Harper, no,” Ethan warns. “If you break his concentration, he’ll bite you.”
“Kinky,” she winks.
She walks off toward the server room.
Ethan stands up. He walks over to me.
“Status?” he asks.
We’re standing in front of ten employees. We’re professional. We’re safe.
“Influencers are locked,” I say, pointing at the board. “Press releases are embargoed until midnight. We’re green.”
“Good,” Ethan says.
He lowers his voice. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, staring at the whiteboard marker in my hand.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmurs. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m shaking because your sister is twenty feet away, and I want to kiss you,” I whisper furiously.
Ethan’s eyes darken. He takes a half-step closer. His body heat radiates against my arm.
“Tonight,” he promises. “Midnight. When the party ends. When she goes to the hotel.”
“She’s staying at my apartment, Ethan.”
“Then we go to mine,” he says. “All of us. I don’t care. I can’t do another night of this.”
“Mr. Branson?” Sarah calls out. “TechCrunch is blowing up the PR inbox for a quote.”
Ethan steps back. The mask slams down.
“I’ll take it in my office,” he says.
He walks away without looking back.
I uncap the marker. The smell of ink and chemicals burns my nose. I start writing tasks I’ve already finished, just to keep my hands moving.
