Page 90 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

Something in his eyes snaps and breaks. And I know exactly how that feels. I felt it when I waited up until 5 a.m. for him to come home, and he didn't. After he kissed me and then seemingly forgot all about me.

He lets out a little exhale and shakes his head, a look that is half hurt, half amusement flickers across his face. “Unbelieveable.”

“What?” I say, the coldness feeding into a seed of anger. “Fine, if there’s something you want to say to me, say it.”

"You know, I actually thought," he says, and his voice is still quiet, still controlled, which somehow makes it worse than shouting ever would, "that whatever was happening between us meant something. To you. I thought that it mattered to you. And that whatever I was going to do, no matter who it hurt, no matter what friendships it fucked with, it would be worth it." He swallows, and his eyes go from hurt to ice cold. "But I suppose I was wrong. So, what was it about then? I mean, you had to know one of us would throw it all away for you, right? Is that why you came back? To finally find out which of us would cave?"

Every word slashes at me like a knife. Cutting away layers and layers of history, of hurt, and misunderstanding. What is he talking about? How could he even think that?

"Yo, Z, that's not fair." Marcus steps in front of me immediately like he can physically block me from the attack. But he's too late. "That's not what this is."

"No?" Zachary's gaze cuts to Marcus, as sharp as his voice, but he's still talking to me. "So were you already sleeping with him when you kissed me, Alexia?"

Shock, raw and unguarded, flashes across Marcus's face, like Zachary reached into his chest and pulled something out by the root. "What?" Marcus demands. "What are you talking about?"

Zachary doesn't answer him. He's still looking at me, waiting.

"That's not..." I start, and I don't even know how to finish the sentence, how to defend myself. I don't even know if I need to defend myself.

Marcus recovers first, and when he does, it's almost worse than anything Zachary said.

"Hey," he says. "Look, I didn't know. About you two. I didn't know man. I wasn't trying to get in between anything. We just slept together. We haven't made any promises to each other."

I feel like every single organ in my body tumbles out of the slash that Marcus has just dealt me.

We just slept together.

Just.

Zachary looks at Marcus for a long, long moment. Then he laughs, short and humourless, and moves his way down the hallway. "Got it," he says, and he walks past us down the hall without another word.

The silence in his wake is enormous.

"Lexi." Marcus turns to me, reaching for my arm, and there's real panic in his face now, the mask completely gone. "Last night. The message that upset you, it was from him, wasn't it?"

I tear my eyes away from the empty space that Zachary’s left in his wake. “What are you talking about?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "When I went down to talk to Anna. I looked up at you on the balcony, you were looking at your phone, and you looked really upset. It was the message from Zachary, wasn't it? Why did you lie to him?"

I feel every muscle in my body harden and my eyes narrow. "When did I lie?"

"You told him you didn't get it."

"No, I didn't. I said I didn't read it. I saw the message, I saw it was from him, I wasn't in the mood to read a message from him, so I didn't. Which I have a right to do. And then later, as I said, I got busy. You know, just sleeping with you."

He grimaces. "You know I didn't mean it that way.”

"Didn't you? I mean, you're not wrong, we haven't really talked about what it means. I thought I'd made it pretty clear how I felt but you're right. No promises were made."

My sentence is cut off by a buzzing in my side. It takes us both a moment to register that it must be his phone in his coat that I'm wearing.

"Ignore it," he says, with a sigh. "Look—" His phone goes off again. He doesn't seem to hear it, still talking as he reaches for me. "—I panicked, I wanted him to know that what happened with us only just⁠—"

The phone buzzes again.

I do the only useful thing I can think to do with my hands, which is pull the phone out of his pocket to make it stop. I hold it out to him, and when I do, I don't mean to, but I see the name on the screen.

Cheri: