SCARLETT
Ethan Mercer texted me on a Tuesday.
I didn't save his number but I knew who it was the second the message came through.
*Hey. I owe you an apology. Coffee? My treat this time, no pressure.*
I stared at it for ten minutes sitting cross-legged on my bed while the sounds of Simon's morning meeting filtered faintly through the mansion walls. His voice. Low, controlled, devastating even from three rooms away.
I typed back before I could talk myself out of it.
*Fine. Thursday.*
I didn't tell Simon. Obviously. But I also didn't tell myself why I said yes, I just did it. Maybe because I was tired of being a secret. Maybe because I needed to remember what it felt like to want someone who was actually available. Maybe because some reckless stupid part of me wanted Simon to find out.
