“Yes, please.” I snapped a picture and sent it to her. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem,” she said. “He typically takes a week to get back to people, so be patient. In the meantime, do you want me to bring you parmesan chicken or parmesan pasta back from the bar?”
“Parmesan pasta.”
“Will do.” She ended the call, and I cranked my engine.
Before I could pull out of the parking lot, a text from an unknown number popped onto my screen.
555-976-9087: Seriously? This was easy. You could’ve doxed this guy’s IP address yourself: 786 University Avenue Wayward Dorm, West Campus.
555-976-9087: If you cash app me an extra $50, I’ll give you the guy’s name. Send me a tit pic, and I’ll discount it to $30.
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need him to give me anything else.
I already knew who lived at that address.
Chelsea’s ‘I don’t talk to anyone in the family anymore’ younger brother, Tyler.
What the hell?
True Crime
Harlow
I stepped off the elevator at the all-boys dorm of Main College, inhaling the heavy scent of pizza and alcohol.
From memory, I headed to the room where I’d helped Tyler move years ago. I couldn’t help but wonder why the hell he was still a freshman and how I wanted to address his fraud.
As a loner, he’d always been aloof and non-confrontational—which made sense as to why he was paying for his cock’s pleasure—but still ... This theft was unacceptable.
My best options were crystal clear: Be an understanding ally who lets him admit his wrongs first, be the mature adult who offers him a payment plan, or rip off his head and hide the body.
Choosing the first option, I knocked on his door and waited.
No answer.
I knocked again. A little louder this time.
Nothing.
I turned to walk away, but the theme song from the Friends sitcom played from inside.
“Open this damn door, Tyler!” I banged on the wood harder than ever. “I know you’re in there! Open it right now!”
The sound of furniture scraping the floor came next, and then the door opened.
“How many times do I need to—” The sentence stalled on my lips as he stepped into the doorway wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist.
My jaw unhinged as his eyes met mine, and I sucked in a slow, unsteady breath.
This man was not the “boy” who I helped to drop off years ago. Either he was a made-over imposter, or my eyes were playing one hell of a trick on me.
This man was sexy as fuck.
The unruly, dark hair that once fell too far past his shoulders was now replaced with neatly trimmed locks that any woman would want to run her fingers through.
His stunning dark green eyes weren’t hiding behind oversized glasses, and there was a black quote tattoo on his chest where a playground scar used to be.
“Accept what is, let go of what was, and have faith in what will be.”
As water droplets traveled from his chest to his abs, I knew without a doubt that his days of wearing baggy sweatshirts were long gone.
I’d always thought he was “passably cute” whenever I came over to hang with Chelsea, but that description was officially out of date. He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen, and the competition—even my current boyfriend, wasn’t anywhere close.
“Hello, Harlow,” he said, his voice deep.
“Hello, Thief.” I snapped out of my trance.
“You look tired,” he said. “No offense.”
“You want to know what I don’t look like?” I crossed my arms. “The type of person who would buy ‘fleshlights,’ ‘Make My Penis Big’ pills, and doggy-style videos from a porn site every month.”
He raised his eyebrow.
“I know you’re desperate since you’ve always been a loner and a virgin for as long as I’ve known your sister, but credit card fraud is a serious crime. There are consequences and repercussions, and cheating bastards have to pay.”
He smiled a set of pearly whites, revealing that his days of having a metal mouth were forever a prologue.
“This is the part when you start talking about how you’re planning to pay me back,” I said. “I’ll wait.”
He stared at me for several seconds, not saying a word.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” I asked. “If you don’t give me some ideas, I’ll have no choice but to tell your sister and your mom how you’ve been spending your never-ending freshman year. Between you and me, I doubt they’ll be impressed with your choice to double major in Fapping and Fraud.”
“Harlow, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” he said.
“So, I do need to repeat it?”
“No.” He adjusted his towel, and I tried not to stare at what was behind it. “For one, I’ve never paid for porn or bought any sex toys … I’m also not a virgin. Far from it, actually.”
My cheeks heated as he looked me up and down.
“I’m also highly confused as to why you think I have your credit card information,” he said.
“Because I used someone to trace it.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the message. “See? The address leads right to you.”
“It leads to this dorm,” he said. “As a whole. There are one hundred other guys who live here.”
“Do they know that you’ve been a freshman for as long as you have?”
“Cancel the card, and I’ll look into it for you tomorrow.” He looked amused, avoiding my question. “I’m cool with the guy who works in the postal room, so I’m sure he can figure out which guy is stealing from you.”
I said nothing.
A part of me felt stupid for assuming things. The other part of me was now entranced by his full and defined lips.
When the hell did you start looking like this?
“This is the part when you apologize to me, Harlow,” he said, smirking. “Now, I’ll wait.”
“I’m sorry you live amongst someone who is willing to steal from your sister’s best friend. I can only imagine how awful you must feel, knowing that a criminal is within your midst.”
“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”
“I’m sorry you’re still in college and someone looked deep into the people you know and somehow accessed my credit card.”
“I don’t think so.” He smiled, and I my stomach flipped. “Try again.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, relenting. “I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
“You also should’ve called first.” He leaned against the frame. “What if I had company?”
“Do you?”
“Depends,” he said, looking me over in a way that made me blush. “Would you like to watch a few episodes with me? For old times’ sake?”
I blinked. He and I hadn’t watched anything together in years. Of course, there was once a time when I could always depend on him to binge the things that Chelsea hated—horror, sci-fi, and anything that was a documentary, but that was back when I was the one in college.