Chapter 3

The window that appeared was one of Ethan's group chats.

New messages were coming in as I looked.

Brooke: “Booty-call o'clock. 👀”

Brooke: “Where are you? Your woman got you on a leash again?”

Ethan, who'd stormed out barely fifteen minutes earlier, answered immediately.

“On my way.”

Brooke: “Can't even show up for your own affair. Get your head checked.”

Another instant reply from Ethan.

“Cut the shit. I'm pissed. Just slammed the door on my way out.”

Brooke: “Well? Did you do what I told you? How'd she react? Come on, tell the boys!”

Ethan gave them the whole conversation without holding anything back.

Then he complained.

“Fuck. I made it that obvious, and she still didn't fight with me or try to stop me. Does she even love me?”

Brooke: “You just haven't been with enough women. Some of them love to act above it all. She's probably losing her mind right now, dying to catch me and beat my ass. I'm putting a lot on the line here. When she goes psycho, you'd better back me up. @Ethan”

Ethan: “Don't worry. You're doing this for me. I won't let you take the fall.”

Jake: “Lmao. Don't worry, girl. We've all got your back!”

Brooke: “👊 How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not your fucking ‘girl.’ Go call your washed-up girlfriend that.”

Jake: “Okay, okay. My bad. We've got you, bro!”

I knew the people in the chat. They were all Ethan's close friends: his three college roommates, his childhood crowd, and Ethan himself. Nine people altogether.

Brooke Bennett was the only woman.

She insisted she was one of the guys. According to Ethan, she was just another buddy to him.

I'd met her a few times. She'd always treated me with a strange contempt. Then Ethan had volunteered to put some distance between himself and other women, and I hadn't seen her since.

I scrolled back. I was so angry I almost laughed.

The three outfits. The cologne. The humming. Even that outraged response when I questioned him. Brooke had coached him through the whole thing in this chat half an hour earlier.

All to make me suspicious enough to lose my shit at him?

His late nights this past week hadn't been about the project, either.

He'd been answering Brooke's little code phrase.

Booty-call o'clock.

At that point, all I could think was: What the fuck is wrong with these people?

Then I read the earlier messages.

Honestly, I sat there for ten minutes trying to get my brain working again.

Good news: Ethan wasn't actually cheating.

Bad news: I almost wished he were.