Laura knew exactly how much you liked him. She knew, and still, she batted her lashes, leaned in close, giggled a little too loud at his stupid jokes. And you? You were the perfect best friend. You were there through every sob-fest after her parents’ divorce, every late-night study session, every time she cried over some loser who couldn’t see her worth. And this is how she repaid you?

You wanted revenge. You weren’t proud of it, but you were pissed. So you did the pettiest thing you could think of:

You slept with her brother.

The next morning, the sunlight is too bright, your clothes are scattered on the floor, and there’s a very naked, very smug, very hot man beside you in bed. You sit up, head pounding, only for the door to swing open, and there she is.

Laura.

She stares. Screams.

“How dare you sleep with my father?!”

You freeze. Father??

You whip around, horror creeping up your spine. The man beside you, still lounging in bed, still grinning like the devil himself, stretches lazily and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger.

“Surprise,” he purrs.