Page 11 of Even Exchange

“Bullshit,” he says, digging in his pocket and pulling out his room key. Apparently, my frustration is obvious. “Why don’t you go surprise Jonathan?”

“You don’t think he’ll mind?” I ask, hopeful.

“Nah,” he says, winking. “I think he might have been expecting you anyways. He had his date night playlist on when I left.”

“Okay,” I say, adrenaline rushing through me.

See? I can do spontaneous.

He places the key in my hand. “Have Jon text me when it’s safe to return.”

“Will do.” I wave. “See you later.”

“There you are!” Sophia says, her cheeks flushed as she stumbles into me for a hug, her blonde hair surrounding me.

“Hey.” I give her a squeeze, forcing down the pang of guilt for what I’m about to say. “I’m heading out.”

“What?” She pulls back. “Why? We can go dance.” Her expression turns apologetic as she looks at Elijah, then back to me. “I’m sorry I?—”

“No.” I shake my head, smiling. “It’s not you. I miss Jonathan. Gonna go see him.”

Her positive expression falls. “Char.”

“Please, save the lecture,” I beg, knowing how much she and Sage—and the rest of our friends, for that matter—can’t stand Jonathan. Which is probably the real reason he’s not here, since they make him feel so unwelcome.

I’ll talk to them about it tomorrow.

“I’m not lecturing,” she protests. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “But I’m going.”

“Fine.” She presses her lips together. “But be careful, okay?”

“You too.” I give her a hug, wave at the others, and make my way out of the club.

Forty minutes and an outrageously expensive Uber later, I’m entering the lobby of Jonathan’s apartment building, a Chinese takeout bag swinging from my fingertips. The elevator carries me to the fourth floor, and I bounce anxiously on my heels. Adingpaired with the openingwhooshof the doors, and I’m striding down the empty hallway, mouth watering from the orange chicken aroma. I reach Jonathan’s apartment, quietly unlock the door, and make my way inside. It clicks shut, and as I set Eric’s key on the kitchen counter, a strangled groan fills my ears.

What the…?

Another breathless whine that definitely doesn’t belong to Jonathan reverberates throughout the apartment, and my stomach rolls as my legs propel me towards the sound. As I stop outside his bedroom door, the repetitive creaking of furniture has me second-guessing everything.

“Jonathan!” the feminine voice shrieks.

Please be porn. Please be very specific, AI-generated, loud-as-hell porn.Holding my breath, I nudge open the door.

The dim bedside lamp illuminates a naked girl as she’s pounded doggy style by the love of my life. I attempt to speak, but no words come out. My brain can’t comprehend the scene before me, let alone my mouth.

“Damn, Kendra,” Jonathan mutters, and the words lace the air like poison, seeping into my pores. “You’re so tight tonight.” A loud slap rings through the room, and she whimpers from his spank. “So good for me, baby.”

“What the fuck?” The only three words that leave my shocked mouth as my heart shrivels up like a raisin.

Their heads snap toward me, and Jonathan’s eyes go wide. “Charlie.”

He pulls out, shoves her to the side, and hops off the bed, his erection swinging through the air like a pool noodle. Societal conventions suggest I should shield my eyes, but why? I’ve seen him like this hundreds of times.Including last night, when he left me drained and unsatisfied.

Kendrascrambles and slips under the blanket, not saying a word. I swear she’s fucking smirking, but I choose to ignore it.

My eyes ping-pong between them as my brain fights to catch up.

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