“What?” Daltyn asks.
I hold up my phone. “Allie and Harper.”
His expression goes flat. “They know?”
“Daltyn, I think everyone knows.”
As if summoned by stupidity, his phone starts ringing. It’s Connor.
Daltyn declines it.
It rings again.
He declines it again.
Then my phone buzzes.
Connor: TELL YOUR BOYFRIEND TO ANSWER HIS PHONE.
I stare at the message.
Your boyfriend.
My stomach flips.
Which is extremely inconvenient because I’m trying very hard to be emotionally stable.
Daltyn’s phone buzzes again. Daltyn reads the messages, winces, then shows me his phone.
Jake: SHE’S WITH ME
Cole: Bro hard-launched like he was protecting state secrets.
Ford: For the record, that reporter was an asshole.
Connor: FOR THE RECORD, THAT WAS ROMANTIC AS HELL.
I press my lips together. Daltyn makes a sound like he’s being strangled.
Do not laugh.
He looks at me. “You’re smiling.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“Well.” I lift my mug. “In my defense, they’re funny.”
“They’re assholes.”
“They’re your assholes.”
His mouth twitches. And for one second, some of the panic drains from his face.
That stupid, tiny, almost-smile hits me directly in the chest.
My phone buzzes again.
