Page 144 of Heartless Sinner

I stopped.

Daphne.

I read the line again.

My name was in Brooks’s journal.

Suddenly, I wasn’t so bored anymore.

Adelina has this friend, Daphne. Since I’m rarely at home, I never paid her much attention, but she came with us on our summer yacht trip. She was wearing a yellow bikini with these little white strings. I didn’t get anything done because all I wanted to do was untie those strings. My father caught me staring and told me to put my eyes elsewhere.

My mouth fell open.

I remembered that bikini.

I also remembered Brooks on that yacht. He’d barely spoken to me the entire trip. Half the time, I’d assumed he hadn’t even noticed I was there.

I guess he’d noticed the shit out of me.

I flipped the page. Four entries later, there I was again.

I just stupidly drank too much and texted Daphne. I think it was a mistake.

I smiled at that.

My Bashful Brooksy.

That night came rushing back. Lying in bed with my phone inches from my face, torturing him because I’d known almost immediately how easy it was to get under his skin.

I hadn’t known he’d been nervous.

I kept reading.

Pretty sure I want to fuck my sister’s best friend. Well, I thought I just wanted to fuck her, but the girl is funny as shit. I’ve never met someone who gives me attitude like she does. It’s nice to have someone who doesn’t look at you like they know they’ll get something in return for their friendliness.

My smile faded as I reread it.

I ran my thumb over the edge of the page.

There was something strange about reading about myself through Brooks’s eyes. He’d seen things in me I’d never known mattered to him.

Twenty-three more times.

That was how many times he’d written about me.

He wrote about our texts. Our secret FaceTimes. Stupid things I’d said that hadn’t been stupid enough for him to forget. He’d even written about me admitting I was nervous Adelina would find out about us.

Then I reached the one from the night before the White House State Dinner.

I’ll see Daphne tonight. I can’t wait. She’s been distant with me lately. Giving me one-word responses, like she’s mad at me for something. I need to talk to her about it. I think tonight is the night I want to talk to her about making it official.

My breathing turned labored.

Making it official.

The words blurred.

I turned the page.