Page 18 of Hot Hearts
“I wish they were saying that instead of what they are saying.”
“What are they saying?” He tries to peek at my phone.
“They’re calling me a cheater and a slut and so on. But don’t you worry. You’re a man, so everyone’s saying I fooled you into our affair.”
“Why would they say such things?” He takes my phone from my hand, scrolling through.
“Don’t comment!” I snatch the phone back.
“There is some Felipe claiming to be your boyfriend. I was going to set him straight.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“I know,” Brooks says with so much certainty. “How could he be when we’re married?” I don’t even bother to correct him. There’s no use.
“He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
“I don’t like it.”
I would laugh at his remark, but my anxiety is rising by the second.
“He was kind of a boyfriend. I don’t know. He would tag along to places I went. Felipe has a following on social media too. He’s into the wine world or whatever.” I wave my hand, not wanting to talk about wine because I’ve heard enough about it to last me a lifetime.
“He’s in the past, so why is everyone mad then?” His eyes drop to my phone. I pull it closer. I don’t need him commenting everywhere, especially from my account.
“Because I’ve been telling him for months to let everyone know we’re not together, so the internet still thinks we are.”
“I’ll tell them.”
“It’s not going to be that easy. I have no clue how Felipe will take this. You see, he slept with my best friend. So he is the cheater, if what we ever were was boyfriend and girlfriend, but he pushed hard on his social media to make it appear that way. I didn’t post him on mine.”
“He cheated on”—Brooks's eyes drop to my bare legs—“you?”
“Yes, on me.” In fairness, I told him I was a virgin and was keeping it that way. I wasn’t interested in sex. I was wondering if I might be asexual. Brooks shot that theory to hell and back, twice now.
“I don’t understand this. Why would he cheat onyou?”
It makes it hard to be mad at Brooks when he's saying sweet things, and I don't even think he's doing it on purpose.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s going to lean into me having cheated on him to get more social media attention. So if I call him out about sleeping with my friend, he’ll say I made it up. Or this could be his way back in with me.”
“Back in?” Brooks's eyes narrow.
“He’s been wanting to get back together. Keeps showing up here.”
“Is that so?” His expression hardens.
“Brooks.”
“You’ll be my wife. You’re having my baby.” Brooks stands. “We’re leaving.”
“Fine,” I agree. There is no place better to hide than Brooks's mini mansion in the sky.
Chapter Twelve
BROOKS
“Felipe must die,” I say to the boys before the first hand is even dealt. I would have skipped poker night, but Slater almost pushed me out of the apartment, saying she wanted to talk to her mom and have some alone time. I didn’t like that, but I also didn’t want to make her more upset after the day she’d had.
