The Other Man

Adrian Hayes has two rules: never steal another man’s girlfriend, and never lose his dignity over a woman.

Then he meets Emma.

Three weeks, one anonymous advice thread, and several terrible decisions later, Adrian is ready to betray his best friend, beg Emma to choose him, and even bring in his parents for backup.

There’s just one problem.

The man he thinks he’s stealing her from is her brother.

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“There are two things I know about myself,” Adrian Hayes said. “First, I would never be anyone’s side piece. Second, I would never lose my mind over a woman. Have some dignity.”

Ryan Bennett, who had been lying facedown across the couch for twenty minutes, lifted his head just enough to glare at his best friend.

“You say that because nobody has ever made you stupid.”

“You’re doing enough stupidity for both of us.”

“Nora blocked me.”

“Because you asked her to delete every man in her contacts.”

“Not every man. Just the suspicious ones.”

“You included her dentist.”

“He has excellent teeth.”

Adrian stared at him.

Ryan dropped his face back into a cushion. “You don’t understand love.”

“I understand that you spent six months chasing a woman who was barely out of her last relationship, finally convinced her to date you, and now behave as if every delivery driver is trying to steal her.”

“You make it sound pathetic.”

“It is pathetic.” Adrian took a calm drink. “A decent person doesn’t interfere with someone else’s relationship. And a decent person certainly doesn’t beg for scraps. If a woman wanted someone else, I’d walk away.”

“You?” Ryan gave a weak laugh. “If you ever fell hard, you’d be worse than me. You’d volunteer to be the other man and thank her for the opportunity.”

Adrian’s expression cooled. “First, I would never volunteer to be the other man. Second, I will never make a spectacle of myself over a woman. I’d rather die with some self-respect.”

“That is exactly what a man says right before fate ruins him.”

“Fate should make an appointment.”

The apartment door opened.

Rain and cold air swept into the room with a young woman carrying a paper gift bag against her chest. Her dark hair was soaked, the shoulders of her sweater were wet, and one white sneaker squeaked against the hardwood as she stumbled inside.

“Ryan, if you ever threaten to jump off a balcony again, I’m going to help you over the railing.”

Ryan sat up at once. “Emma! Did Nora send it?”

“She said this is not an apology.” The woman dropped the bag into his lap. “It is the hoodie you left at her place and a list of reasons you’re an idiot.”

“She made a list?” Ryan looked moved. “She still cares.”

Adrian had stopped breathing.

Emma pushed wet hair off her cheek and looked at him. She had large, bright eyes, pink cheeks from the cold, and the kind of face that seemed lively even when she was annoyed. She glanced from Adrian to the drink frozen halfway to his mouth.

“Hi.”

Adrian put the glass down too fast. Ice knocked against the rim.

Ryan, busy opening the bag, did not notice. “Emma, this is Adrian. Adrian, Emma.”

No relationship. No explanation. Just a first name, as if Adrian was supposed to know.

Emma held out her hand. “You’re the famous Adrian Hayes.”

He took it. Her fingers were cold. His were suddenly useless.

“Famous?”

“Ryan says you’re emotionally dead.”

“Ryan says many things while crying.”

She laughed.

It was one laugh. Four seconds, perhaps less. Adrian felt it in places that had no business reacting to sound.

Ryan pulled the hoodie from the bag and hugged it. “It smells like her.”

Emma looked disgusted. “I regret coming.”

She turned toward the hallway. Ryan caught her wrist and tugged her down beside him with the easy entitlement of long habit. Emma kicked his ankle, then let him drag half the throw blanket over her wet shoulders.

Adrian watched the exchange and understood it in the worst possible way.

Ryan had been talking about Nora all evening, but he had never said the woman who had arrived was Nora. Maybe Emma was a nickname. Maybe Nora was her middle name. Maybe the gift bag was an elaborate peace offering. Maybe Ryan’s romantic life was so chaotic that Adrian had missed a chapter.

What Adrian did know was that Ryan tucked the blanket around Emma and asked whether she had eaten. Emma stole his fries without asking. Ryan complained, then pushed the plate closer.

They looked intimate.

Adrian disliked how quickly the conclusion formed. He disliked even more that the conclusion changed nothing about the pull in his chest.

Emma caught him looking.

He looked away.

Two minutes later, he looked back.

She caught him again.

This time one corner of her mouth lifted.

Adrian went home before he could disgrace himself in public.

At 1:13 a.m., a new post appeared on Westbridge After Dark, the anonymous message board used by half the university and denied by all of them.

Title: How do you steal your best friend’s girlfriend without losing your best friend?

The post read:

Hypothetically, my friend is dating someone far too good for him. He is jealous, unstable, and exhausting. I have recently met her and believe I would be a better partner. How do I replace him without creating unnecessary conflict?

The first reply arrived in less than a minute.

You don’t. You go to sleep.

The second said:

Is this “hypothetical friend” the one whose girl you want?

The original poster replied:

That is irrelevant.

A third person wrote:

Congratulations. You’re trying to become the other man.

The poster answered immediately.

Incorrect. “Other man” implies inferiority. I am proposing a correction.

In her dorm room across campus, Emma Bennett read that answer while drying her hair.

She laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone.