Page 63 of Texts From My Exes
“Look,” Aaron said finally from the driver’s seat. His voice was careful, steady. “I think we should try. Despite all the…whatever is going on with Vex. Or Ezra. Or whatever you call him. Like—was the name change about the fame? I can’t be the only one with questions.”
He glanced at me, softer now. “You’ve done all the dates, and hey—success. You get to post the last few with me. Why not us? Why not try? Without cameras. Without your phone buzzing every two seconds. I can’t promise anything beyond taking each day as it comes. But if that’s cool with you…”
I swallowed the basketball-sized lump of guilt in my throat. He was nice. He was good-looking. He was talented. I’d be an idiot to say no. And Ezra—the one person I trusted most in the world—had lied. So maybe this was my option. No, not maybe. He was sitting right next to me.
I reached across and grabbed his hand. “I’d like that. I think. It’s just…weird. Dating two people. One started horrible and is going pretty great. The other…” I exhaled. “The other is with the so-called perfect guy.”
Aaron laughed. “Tough competition. Plus, he’s got the hair. I think his hashtag went viral last week.”
I smirked. “Yeah. He’s always had good hair.”
Aaron frowned. “Always? What do you mean, always?”
Shit. Shit on a stick. “I mean, since we started dating. He’s always had good hair.”
“How long did you two date before you cut him loose and then brought him back for this TikTok serial?”
Was this an interview? I frowned at our joined hands. “I don’t know. A few years back. Things just…didn’t work out.”
Aaron looked out the window, then back at me. “Maybe it was meant to be. Him walking away.”
Why did that make me want to cry? Tears pricked my eyes. “Yeah. Maybe.”
But his hand didn’t feel familiar. It wasn’t Ezra’s hand. And no matter how hard I tried to pretend, it wasn’t what I wanted.
“Hey,” I said quickly, blinking away the sting. “Actually…want to grab a drink around the corner? I’m not tired yet.”
Aaron’s whole face lit up. “Really? I’d love to.”
My chest tightened. “Yeah. Let’s just walk, since you’re already parked.”
He was all smiles as we headed toNeighborhood Hustle,the best dive bar within a three-mile radius. We’d been there maybe two minutes when Ezra walked in. With Lila.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I was committing a crime this evening.
Aaron jerked his head toward me. “Uh, you do realize you grabbed one of the bar knives they use for limes, right? Should you be pointing that at people?”
I blinked, then glanced down. Sure enough. Knife. In my hand. “Oh. Whoops. I just like my limes cutjust right.In halves. Like a psychopath. Ha ha.” I carefully set it down.
Ezra and Lila moved to a high-top, and he didn’t even glance my way. Not once. Was that on purpose?
“What do you want to drink—” Aaron started, but I yanked him down by the shirt until we were crouched behind a massive dude in a leather vest that may or may not have saidOne Percenter.
“Shhh,” I hissed. “They’ll hear.”
Aaron flicked my arm. “Who? Everyone in here? What is going on—” He followed my gaze. “Okay, I’m invested. Who’s he with? Was he supposed to be dating other people too? Did you know?”
“Does it look like I knew?” I snapped.
He gulped. “This side of you is both terrifying and oddly sexy. My body is very confused right now. Do I run or do I stay?”
I gave him a sweet smile. “Stay. You might get rewarded.”
He groaned. “Damn, I like that look. Way too much.” Clearing his throat, he waved at the bartender. “Two shots of tequila. Easy on the limes—she’s sensitive.”
I glared. “Cut them like hamburgers, Bob. And keep them coming.”
