Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
EZRA
Monsterrrrrrrr. Hehe, sorry, jump scare, okay it was one time, everyone paints their dick once in their lives.
–Damien
H arper cursed behind me and disappeared into her bedroom.
I flinched when her door slammed. I flopped onto her couch, tugged a throw pillow under my head, and stared at the ceiling.
Thankfully Harper’s parents had left without taking me with them, as a dead body.
Her father’s glare had me worried for a minute.
But shortly after they left, Harper uploaded the damn video and the world exploded.
I watched as her shoulders began to tighten as she read the comments, I could see her eyes practically flying across the screen as she devoured each word.
It hit me in the gut, the memories, knowing how much power those word could wield.
I glanced back to her closed door, then sighed.
Two minutes of silence came and went followed by three, four, five, when we finally clocked in ten whole minutes without speaking, I went first. “You alive in there?”
Her muffled voice came back instantly. “We’re on a break!”
I grinned at her Friends reference. “Should I write you a fourteen-page letter? Front and back?”
“Bite me!”
“I’d need clarification on location.”
A dramatic groan was my only answer. I smiled to myself.
I could envision her glaring at the door, nose all scrunched up, arms crossed, angry but still wanting to engage because she just couldn’t help it.
Small things like that, it was tiny, insignificant things like that that had me falling for her without her even realizing it.
The day we stopped fighting would be a day I knew I’d lost her—the day she stopped getting angry meant she stopped caring.
I waited a few more minutes then padded to her door. “I’m coming in.”
Something thumped on the other side. “You’re not invited.”
I ignored her and opened the door anyway. She was curled on her side, fluffy blue blanket pulled up to her chin like she needed something to separate us.
“I’m afraid of the TV screen,” I said matter-of-factly, crossing the room to the safe zone of her body heat.
Her brow furrowed. “Care to repeat that?”
“It’s too quiet out there. I feel like it’s just waiting to go all Ring movie on me, and then I just play chicken with it until a girl crawls out, no thanks. Move.”
She sighed, shifting over without argument like I knew she would.
I slid into bed beside her, the mattress dipping under my weight.
It wasn’t the first time we’d been in bed together like that, except those circumstances had always been different, one of us had fallen asleep studying, or one of us had been sick, crying—for her it was the time of the month and she needed someone to both beat and cry on.
But it was never post-date, never post seeing me half naked, never post feelings of anything other than friendship and mutual respect, so it felt different, it felt really freaking different.
Even the air cracked with unresolved tension, and words that we knew would fall flat if we spoke them without caution.
She glanced over at me and sighed like she had something heavy to say. I braced myself for impact and prayed it wouldn’t hurt. “It’s big dick energy… with a big dick.”
Elated, I tried not to smile and failed, then propped myself up on one elbow, still grinning like a fool. “Do you want me to apologize or say you’re welcome? Take your time, I know words are hard after such life changing ordeal.”
Her smile curved slow and sexy in a way that made me want with a desperation that was terrifying—it reminded me that this was all so very dangerous, the fine line was fragile and the way I felt about her even more so.
My heart could get annihilated and in order not to lose her friendship I’d pretend I was fine.
I wasn’t the kind of guy who could walk away from even a fraction of her.
I’d stay and I’d watch her walk down the aisle with someone else.
I’d be the cool uncle. I was ride or die no matter what. How fucking depressing.
She finally answered. “Depends. Do you want me to kick it or kiss it?”
We both froze, and again the room tensed like one small movement would either start or end everything. I was afraid to breathe so I just held my breathe like an idiot and watched the explosions of emotions cross her face.
“I mean—” she started, voice cracking.
“I’m more of a suck sort of guy,” I cut in quickly, shrugging like we were discussing sports scores.
“Then again, this is all fake, so… you can just pretend you were able to fit your mouth around my cock. How’s that?
” Bad visual, or good visual, however you looked at it the visual should not be visualizing because it wasn’t going to be doing me any favors and she was dangerously close to my body already.
I could smell her lotion. It was enough.
God it was enough just smelling coconut.
I mentally slapped myself out of it. Focus. I needed to focus at the task on hand.
She shifted next to me, glaring at the ceiling like it was going to give her answers or something. “I refuse to visualize it.”
What a dirty little liar. Her cheeks were pink, her lips parted like she needed more air but forgot how to suck it into her mouth. That’s the thing about being best friends—you notice everything and she was thinking. About me. I leaned in until my breath brushed her ear. “Liar.”
She shivered—just slightly—before rolling to face the wall shutting me down completely. “Goodnight, Vex aka Ezra.”
I opened my mouth to say more but realized it was better for both of us if we slept.
Who knew what tomorrow would hold and tonight had already been a shit storm.
I needed strength. Sleep. Food. Hydration, and to stop being such a simp for her this early on.
I was doing her a favor and if nothing came out of it.
Fine. It was fine. The world wouldn’t burn and I wouldn’t jump off a cliff on purpose.
We fell asleep like that. Both of us overly aware of every inch of space—and every inch of not space—between us.
The next morning after being kicked within an inch of my life and being elbowed in the spleen—I’m convinced on purpose, I woke to two things at once:
My phone buzzing nonstop.
The doorbell ringing like someone had broken the emergency glass and the fire department was trying to break in.
Across the bed, Harper groaned, dragging a pillow over her head. “Make it stop.”
I reached for my phone, eyes blurry I realized I’d stupidly slept in my contacts so it took me a few minutes to actually see the screen at first. One glance at the notifications had me swearing under my breath and sliding my finger cautiously across the screen.
This wasn’t going to be a normal morning. Not by a long shot.
The doorbell rang again, sharper this time—followed by a pounding knock, like whoever was out there thought they were collecting on a debt. Never mind, that was illegal now, so it had to be either the police, her angry parents, angry neighbors, or who? Who else could it possibly be?
“Tell them we died!” Harper mumbled into her pillow.
Not a bad idea. Except my phone was still vibrating like it had developed a pulse, and every glance at the screen made my stomach drop further.
He’d called. Because of course he did. I’d come out of hiding—not on purpose, again, I forgot the internet was full of sleuths and people who actually cared.
Of course he wasn’t one that cared about anything other than money and now I was in deeper shit because he’d come for her the way he came for me all those years ago when I was innocent and stupid.
Mentions. Tags. Old photos. Interview clips followed the several missed calls from him.
Her upload wasn’t just out there . It had detonated the internet.
Half the internet was arguing over whether I was really me. The other half was pulling receipts to prove it was.
The comments were a minefield:
OMG IT’S HIM.
I thought he disappeared.
Who’s the girl??
She’s not famous, she’s just a teacher, that girl doing the whole dating exes thing on TikTok.
She looks … fine, I guess.
Fine. They called her fine . My jaw flexed.
Another round of knocks shook the door. I glanced at Harper. She hadn’t moved.
“Should we paper, rock, scissors for it?” I asked.
“Don’t open it,” she said, voice muffled. “It’s probably a serial killer. Hey maybe they’ll finish the job, should I even look at my phone?”
“Hm, serial killer. Then I should definitely open it. Might be an improvement over this morning.” I shoved my phone in the pocket of the jeans I’d slept in.
I earned a half-hearted pillow toss in my general direction from Harper, not sure if it was encouragement or more or less like answer so I could get back to sleep, but I kept walking anyways.
I pulled on one of the hoodies I kept at her house—no good meeting a serial killer without proper loungewear—and went to the door. Through the peephole, I caught sight of a camera lens. A big one. And behind it, a woman holding a mic with a news station logo.
Paparazzi. Local news. Both?
Great.
I backed away and shut the bolt. “We have company,” I called toward the bedroom.
“Who?”
“I think the news? Things must be slow if they’re here first thing in the morning and you must have gone viral viral if the news is here to interview you, creepy if you ask me.”
That had her jumping to her feet like the fires of hell were licking at her ankles.
She padded into the living room, hair pointing in all directions, still wearing the t-shirt she’d slept in.
One look at my face and her shoulders sagged.
Was that relief or was it just in preparation to take on more stress?
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” she said.
I handed her my phone. She scrolled, her eyes widening as the sheer scale of the disaster lit up her screen.