Ethan’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he watches, and before I even get to my breakdown of the series’ themes, he shoves the phone back at me.
“Delete it,” he says flatly.
The words don’t register at first. My brain can’t process the disconnect between my elation and his reaction.
“What?” I finally laugh, certain he’s joking.
But his expression doesn’t soften. Instead, it only hardens further. “I’m serious, Tatum. Delete it. Now.”
My mouth falls open as I stare at him, certain I misheard him.
This can’t be happening. Not when I’m finally breaking through. He’s supposed to be happy for me. Thrilled. Elated.
His eyes flash with irritation as I stand there frozen, mouth gaping. “I’m not joking around, Tatum. Delete the damn video.Now.” His voice is low, controlled, but there’s no mistaking the anger beneath it.
“Why would I delete it?” I ask, completely bewildered. “Ethan, do you understand what this means for me? This is huge!”
He shoves his hands into his pockets, glancing around the courtyard beyond the dorms as if someone might overhear. “Have you even looked at yourself in that video?” he hisses. “Your”?he gestures vaguely at my chest?“tits are practically spilling out of that top. And what’s with the whole getup? The glasses, that plaid skirt, hair all done up? You look like you’re playing some kind of naughty librarian fantasy for the internet. Is this what you’re doing in your spare time? Because if so, I have to say, it’s not a good look.”
My cheeks burn hot with humiliation. I touch my chest self-consciously, remembering the outfit I’d worn for the video—my favorite reading glasses, a scoop neck bodysuit, and yes, a plaid skirt I thought looked scholarly and cute.
I shake my arms out beside me, trying to find a way to navigate past theheavy stone in my chest.
“Did you evenlistento what I was saying in the review?” I ask, my voice rising slightly. “I spent hours analyzing that book. People loved my take on it.”
Ethan barks out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what they loved. The words coming out your mouth.”
I take a deep breath to steady myself, trying not to show him how much his words sting. “I’ve gained over two hundred thousand followers since yesterday. Two hundred thousand people who want to hear what I have to say about books. I can’t just delete it because you’re uncomfortable.”
He snorts. “Yeah, I can see exactly why you got all those followers.”
Before I can respond, he snatches my phone back and opens the video again, scrolling down to the comment section with quick, angry flicks of his thumb. He stops suddenly, jabbing at the screen.
“Look at this:Damn girl, you can read to me anytime. And this one:Forget the book, you’re all the fantasy I need. Still think they care about your literary analysis?”
Heat crawls up my neck as I read the comments he’s pointing to. My stomach knots with a sickening mixture of embarrassment and anger.
“That’s two out of more than a thousand comments,” I say, hating how defensive I sound. “Most people are talking about the book or thanking me for the recommendation.”
“You’re being naive.” His voice drops lower, and he glances back at the sound of footsteps behind us. “My friends are coming. We’ll talk about this later.”
The evening air is crisp against my skin, as we cross the student lot toward Ethan’s car, but I barely feel it, too caught up in thoughts of the phone burning a hole through my back pocket.
“So I visited an old buddy of mine last year and we went bar hopping,” Mike says as we reach Ethan’s car. “I’m thinking we do the same and hit Blackwell’s first for drinks, then maybe The Loft if we’re feeling it?”
“Sounds good to me,” Brady agrees, looking over his shoulder at me. “Tatum, any special requests since this is your territory?”
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “No. Whatever you want is fine.”
“I’ll drive so you all can drink,” Ethan says with a grin, but I can barely look at him, too upset about our conversation earlier to so much as offer him a friendly smile.
“Actually, I can drive. I don’t plan on drinking,” I say, no longer in the mood for a celebratory drink, since there’s nothing to celebrate.
Ethan’s smile fades slightly as he glances at his friends, then takes a step closer. “Don’t be mad about earlier,” he whispers, his breath hot on my ear. “I just want what’s best for you. It’sonly because I care.” He reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Come on. Have a few drinks and let loose. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
Like the last time I got drunk at the Sigma Alpha party and we had sex?
I remember the hollow feeling in my chest afterward, the regret of not waiting and my stomach twists.
