Page 23 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

But now? We were all in the same boat. Single with nothing but rotten experiences. Men sucked.

We returned to our smoothie bowls, the crisis over, and finished our lunch, the three of us gossiping and chatting about everything under the sun. In the back of my mind, though, I couldn't stop thinking about the book. I was kind of dying for them to leave so I could examine it and see if there was a note, abookmark, anything at all to give me a clue as to why Ethan had sent it to me.

My heart skittered around as the time dragged on and on and on, the remnants of the smoothie bowl swirling like a tornado in my stomach throughout the afternoon.

Come on, come on, come on.

I thought about sneaking a peek while I cleaned up in the kitchen, but I resisted because if I did indeed find something, I wanted to take my sweet time figuring it out.

After helping Annalise decide what to wear this upcoming week at her new job, she leaned back and stretched her arms over her head, yawning. "I feel like it's the night before Christmas or the first day of school. I'm exhausted, but God knows I won't be able to fall asleep till like four in the morning."

I laughed, finally sensing an out. "Well, maybe you should go home, do some yoga, meditate, have some turkey for dinner, all that stuff, and that'll help."

She laughed. "Eat turkey? You think tryptophan is going to help me out?"

"Mom used to give us turkey all the time growing up, and I swear it helped," Astrid remembered.

"Hmm, it's definitely worth a shot." Annalise squinted her eyes, looking out one of my large windows. "I'll try anything to get a good night of sleep. If I'm going to pull this off successfully, I need all my wits about me tomorrow."

"Yes, you do," I agreed.

"Looks like I'll have to stop at the store on the way home." She glanced again at the sky. "I should get going then."

Thank goodness.

"Me too," sighed Astrid.

A few minutes later, after quick hugs all around, they were out the door, and I finally found myself alone with this mysteriousbook of poetry. For all I knew, Chris the barista could have sent it to me.

But deep down, I knew that wasn't the case. It was Ethan. It had to be.

Rushing to the kitchen, I grabbed the book with shaky hands. What was up with that? Why the heck was I flipping out so much about this?

I fumbled my way to the first page to see the scrawl of handwriting there, all bold strokes and jagged edges. It took me a few seconds to decipher the words and put it all together.

"To exploring the shadowsand discovering what lies beneath the surface."

Rocking back on my heels, I studied the inscription, each word separately then as a whole. I understood what he'd written of course, but what did it mean exactly?

Such an odd, cryptic message.

I searched the book for anything else but came up empty. No turned corners. No highlights. Nothing.

Reading his note again, it dawned on me. This was just his sneaky way of trying to get me to call him. He'd now mentioned twice that we could team up for some kind of revenge, not that I remembered the first time.

I wouldn't fall for it, though. And I couldn't think of anything in this world that would drive me to actually want to be in a partnership with Ethan Locke.

Eight

Ethan

Four whole weeks had passed since I'd sent Aria that book of poems, and not a single fucking word from her. For an entire month, I'd watched and waited, sick at how she was being torn apart online.

After searching her name, I read yet the latest headline...Aria Stratton: Socialite from Hell.

I slammed my laptop shut, not even bothering to read the article, if you could call it that. The trashy gossip sites had piled on, some of them outright naming her and others doing so-called blind items that were thinly disguised.

It was disgusting. It infuriated me. Once again, Chase had won.

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