Page 166 of Contempt

She pauses for a few seconds, then she sighs heavily. “I don’t even know how to…” She searches for words the same way I did a moment ago. “Parker, Anae brought that valet from the club back to the house tonight. They got here right after Landon left. Right now, they’re on a lounger by the pool eating each other’s faces.”

My jaw falls open, my eyes widening. “What?”

“I sent you a picture. I feel like I need verification because I don’t even trust my own eyeballs at this point.”

I pull back the phone to open the message she just sent me, and sure enough, it’s a photo of Javi on a lounger by the pool at Hannah’s house, Anae planted on his lap with her tongue shoved halfway down his throat.

Putting the phone back to my ear, I say, “I am very confused.”

“You and me both,” she says. “Didn’t you say he texted you asking you to hang out this weekend?”

“I did. I mean, I never answered him, so I guess maybe he got tired of waiting for me…”

My words trail off. They’re feasible, but they don’t really make sense. How do you go from wanting to hang out with me to making out with Anaethatfast?

Besides, he just texted me a little bit ago.

I didn’t even tell Hannah about that one.

Frowning, I pull back the phone again so I can look at the text.

An idea strikes me, so purely for science, I text back, “I think I can meet you tomorrow night if you’re still free?”

Back on the phone with Hannah, I tell her, “Can you see him?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

I bite back a wholly inappropriate smile. “Keep watching. I just texted him. I want to see if he…” I cut off, my eyes widening as the three gray bubbles dance across the screen. “Is he texting?”

“What? No,” she says, confused.

“Are you sure?”

“His hands are occupied,” she assures me, “But not by a phone.”

She swears he isn’t texting me, yet a new message comes up on my screen.

“Yeah? Great. I can’t wait to see you. Want me to pick you up?”

How…?

“Hannah, are yousurehe didn’t just text me?”

“Parker, I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Well, someone just responded,” I say flatly.

“Well… it wasn’t the guy you introduced me to at the club, that’s for sure.”

No. It sure wasn’t. I saw the picture for myself, and that was definitely Javi.

Looking down at my phone, I type back to my deceitful pen pal, “No, don’t come here. Things with my stepbrother are a little weird right now, but I’m tired of having to live my life around him. I’ll just tell everyone I’m going to my friend’s house. I hope you don’t mind sneaking around,” I tap the winky, kissy emoji pretty aggressively, then I press send before I can think better of it.

And a moment later, “Javi” responds, “not at all,” with a wink of his own.

Well, that confirms it.

It’s not Javi I’ve been texting.

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