“Both,” she mutters into her glass.
Jeremy perks up. “You know what we should do? TP her cottage. Classic. And disrespectful.”
“Jeremy—” I warn.
“No, hear me out.” He raises a hand. “We sneak over before dawn. Toilet paper her porch swing, the bushes, the tress, leave a few passive-aggressive notes. Maya signs it ‘Your favorite follower.’ Boom. Mic drop.”
“Or we could put Icy Hot in her shampoo,” Maya offers dryly.
“See?” Jeremy says. “This is healing.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “We’re all under an NDA, remember? There’s a clause about retaliation. Plus, this place is packed with security cameras.”
Jeremy waves her off. “Pfft. What’s a legally binding agreement good for anyway?”
“Seriously?” Maya’s brows lift. “You were so excited about signing it. You’re the one who made us use codenames in the GroupMe.”
“Out of respect,” Jeremy says with a sniff. “Also, I didn’t want Nolan’s boring ass to find out we called him Big Dimple Energy behind his back.”
“Like he’d ever know,” Maya argues.
Right then, the front door creaks open.
And there he is.
Nolan“Big Dimple Energy”Rhodes, standing in the doorway, a container of Thai food in one hand and a thoroughly confused expression on his face.
“...Did I interrupt a séance?” he asks.
Jeremy pops to his feet. “You brought food? You’re forgiven. Come. Sit. Let us beautify you.”
“What?” Nolan looks absolutely horrified. As he should.
Thirty minutes later, Maya and I return from soaking in the hot tubto find Nolan shirtless, sprawled across an armchair like he’s given up on dignity altogether, charcoal-grey sheet mask plastered to his face, and fuzzy slippers that were very muchnothis when the night started. His toenails are drying in a dangerously glittery coral, while Jeremy dabs concealer under his eyes.
“This stays between us,” Nolan mutters, voice muffled by the mask. “I’m only doing this because you’re Rorie’s best friend. And because you threatened me.” He pauses then adds, flatly. “Multiple times. In writing.”
Jeremy, mid-sip of his possibly-illegal seltzer, watches Nolan as he carefully teases up the front of his hair with my wide-tooth comb. “You rolled your eyes at my serum lineup. This is the natural consequence.”
Nolan’s shift to look at Jeremy.
“You think this is bad?” Jeremy asks. “I’mthis closeto contouring your abs with bronzer. Not that you need it.”
“Only I get to touch his abs, Jer,” I warn.
“Then I suggest you start moisturizing them. We’re a team now.”
Nolan rolls his eyes. “I’m in hell.”
“Careful, future husband,” Jeremy says, smirking. “Don’t run your mouth again, or next time I start with your eyebrows. And I don’t ask.”
Nolan lifts a brow. “Don’t worry. I won’t be running my mouth likeyoudid. Some of us know how to keep our private footage… private.”
Jeremy freezes. Maya and I both go still.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask Nolan.
He says nothing.
