Page 50 of Texts From My Exes
It wasn’t about us though, it was about what he thought he was owed and it was about ratings and I knew that if this went well he’d ask for more, they always did. It never stopped, not when money was involved.
Harpers eyes searched mine. “Popular these days, hmm?”
“I gave my personal number to the harem of spreadsheets at work.” I winked. “I’ll grab it really quick, make sure you keep eating you haven’t been eating enough.”
Her face softened. “A true man tells a woman to eat.”
“A true man means it.” I flicked her nose and grabbed my phone then rushed out the door and tried to keep the anxiety in the pit of my stomach so it didn’t reach the cracks in my already fractured heart.
I’d do anything for her.
And sadly—he knew that.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
HARPER
Listen, I didn’t mean to crash out so hard over it but you have to have respect, you know? Only a true friend would tell you to change your clothes if you were sporting a pair of Jordans with ADIDAS it’s like spitting on a legacy. It’s not my fault you said no and I refused to walk into the restaurant with you—-it was a beach place you could have gone barefoot or at the very least taken off your top!
—Braden “almost went pro” Cooper
Ididn’t mean to eavesdrop, but his voice carried through the thin walls. I was curious and he’d been acting funny. I told myself it was fine to listen in, as a concerned friend it was fine, right? I shuffled closer to the door and waited.
“Yeah, I know. We’re filming and doing exactly what you guys said. What do you want from me? From us?” Was I wrong in asking him to handle everything about the wholewe want to stream your show on networks and sponsor your little TikTok dating series?
He had experience, I didn’t, it was only natural to rely on Ezra again for all the small details. I completely trusted himright down to the contract I had to sign with our sponsor—an aphrodisiac sort of perfume that I’m pretty sure only attracted the wrong sort of guy, not that I’ve used it yet, but I didn’t have high hopes. Tomorrow night was the first product placement. I just hoped I wouldn’t smell like a cheap whore.
I listened closer.
He cursed and then paused like he was listening. “Uh, huh, yeah, I’m sure, I’m not stupid, no, yes, well,” His tone dropped. “Boring? We just—no. She’s the opposite of boring. I’m not doing—I’m not planning the dates, you guys did the last one, and maybe you forgot the part where she’s dating exes that were all wrong for her! How am I supposed to know how tomorrow night’s going to go? It’s the last date. Fine. Message received. I’ll back off. Happy?”
Back off? What did that even mean? I sprinted back towards the couch and shoved my fork into my fried rice and shoved two portions into my mouth.
He came back in like nothing had happened, phone shoved deep in his pocket, but his shoulders were stiff, jaw tight. He didn’t sit close this time. He didn’t tease. He finally looked at me. “Can you breathe?”
I gave him a thumbs up.
His smile was slightly amused as he grabbed his laptop again, aka his shield and worked in silence until I finally got tired, cleaned up and started getting ready for bed.
Later, after I was done brushing my teeth and grabbing a glass of water, I caught him scrolling through his phone, face grim in the blue light. Text bubbles filled the screen before he quickly locked it.
I leaned against the doorframe, glass of water in hand. “You know… maybe you’ll be off the hook soon.”
His eyes flicked up, unreadable. For a heartbeat, I thought he might fight me on it. Instead, he just said, “Maybe.”
Maybe. Like it didn’t matter either way.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and crawled into bed. He stayed in the living room.
Maybe was a hateful word.
Maybe…it was for the best.
The next night,I was told to meet at a little rooftop garden in the city called Brill—twinkle lights, candles, live acoustic guitar. Romantic with a capital R.
I should’ve been excited. Instead, I felt naked without Ezra hovering at my side with his sarcasm and neon glasses, ready to make fun of everything. The truth was ugly: I owed it to myself to at least give this a chance, but the whole time I kept thinking about how when it was over, Ezra would be home. My comfort. My safe place. God, I was the worst thinking of Ezra while waiting for, wait what was his name again? Ron? Shit. I needed to look at his profile. I started digging in my purse when I could have sworn the lights flickered. I glanced up and watched as heads started to turn toward the guy who just walked in. His eyes locked with mine, and in a moment I remembered him. He held out his massive hand. And wow. Old-school movie-star handsome—blond hair refusing to stay in place, bright green eyes, a sunshine smile that didn’t look practiced. Broad-shouldered. Confident. The kind of man who probably flossed twice daily and never got spinach stuck in his teeth.
