I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, even if he couldn’t see.
Then I checked myDMs. Despite Nix only posting two hours ago, I’d racked up over 50 new messages.
Great.
LIVIE: I’m exhausted and had a glass or two of wine. I should sleep.
And watch his story again.
NIXONARMAS: Same. But I can’t.
My thumbs hovered over my text. Something was thrilling about texting him. Something secretive and exciting.
LIVIE: And why can’t you sleep?
NIXONARMAS: Can’t help but wonder who the guy in your pictures is.
In person, he was flirty, as if it was his natural charisma. But over text… it almost felt like he had to put more effort into messaging me repeatedly.
It was an effort to stalk and question the men in my posts.
I loaded up my profile again, scrolling through my own pictures for any sighting of Ben. There were a few from that trip to Greece, then a couple from the year before. All of my birthday posts for him were childhood photos.
NIXONARMAS: Don’t go quiet on me now. He’s pale. Screams Brit. He who you’re staying with?
His jealousy was turning me on, licking my body with flames of heat, even from 5,000 miles away.
LIVIE: Maybe. That a problem?
He started to type. Then stopped. Then started again.
LIVIE: You jealous, Armas?
NIXONARMAS: Of the half-ass sex you might be getting?
I bit my lip to stop from laughing. He’d heard more than I thought.
NIXONARMAS: You like posh boys? I’m not a posh boy.
I laughed aloud, trying to muffle the sound with my hand. Posh, he was not. Rugged, dangerous, sexy, yes.
LIVIE: Who said I like you? And you like a grid girl. Like a few posts, at least.
My phone buzzed, ringing in my hand. I picked it up quickly so my brother wouldn’t hear.
“Was that wrong?” Nixon asked, his voice thick with alcohol and exhaustion. “I thought it would look more real. Should I not have liked her posts?”
“No, you should have,” I said.
Fuck, his voice was husky and seductive. I pulled off my trousers. I couldn’t sleep in them anyway. Twenty minutes ago, I had been ready to pass out in them.
“You jealous, Livid?” he asked with a laugh.
“Nothing to be jealous of,” I said, breathless from trying to rush off my clothes. “Or is there?”
I’d said as part of his agreement, he might start something with his ‘girlfriend’. What a ridiculous idea to give him.
“I liked at least twenty more of your posts,” he said as I searched through my bag at the side of my bed for my headphones. I wanted to look at his face while I spoke to him. “So, if we’re going by that standard, I don’t think you need to be jealous.”
