Chapter 4: Abs, Accusations, and Rival Games

Not wanting to be the center of gossip, I went straight to the library with my roommate after class.

But I’d barely sat down when Autumn and Zoe showed up.

Out of all the empty seats, they chose the one right across from me.

Even while reading, Zoe’s fingers curled around Autumn’s wrist, staking her claim.

Did they really have to make me their audience?

I frowned.

Just then, a message popped up on my phone in the corner of my screen.

It was Caleb Grant, my foster brother.

I tapped it open, and a photo of abs filled the screen.

His muscles were sharply defined, tapering down to his waist.

I stared, stunned.

My roommate glanced over. “Oh wow! You’re looking at ab pics?”

She whistled. “Damn, that’s a body. The angle’s not great, and he’s not posing—can’t be some random internet photo. I’d know if he was a model!”

My cheeks went red as I scrambled to close the screen.

Suddenly, a hand reached across the table and snatched my phone away.

Autumn’s face was tense as he minimized the photo.

When he saw the sender’s name, he let out a barely noticeable sigh of relief and raised an eyebrow.

“Using your brother to provoke me? Trying to make me jealous? I told you—stop playing these little games…”

“You’re overthinking it.” I snatched my phone back, unable to stay a second longer. “I’m busy. I don’t have time for these relationship games. I meant everything I said.”

“We’re already over, Autumn.”

Autumn’s smile froze. He stared at me, stunned.

As I left the library, my phone buzzed twice more.

[Sent the wrong photo.]

[Can’t unsend after two minutes.]

I let out a breath. “It’s fine, bro.”

He replied quickly:

[Took a men’s fitness class when I had time. Heard girls like this kind of thing.]

[Guys out there send random pics, but if you want to see, just ask me. No one else has.]

I hesitated. “Actually… I’m not really into this stuff.”

[Don’t like abs? Got it.]

The next second, he sent over a dozen more photos—Adam’s apple, collarbone, pecs…

Caleb had served in the military, and his physique was jaw-dropping.

Even without knowing how to pose, his broad shoulders and narrow waist were on full display in the detailed shots.

I stared, wide-eyed.

Seriously, bro. Did you really get it?

Caleb was the only child of the Grant family.

When I moved in, he was eleven.

He had striking features, already showing a hint of wildness. He was tall, and with his blank expression and lowered eyes, he looked a bit intimidating.

I thought he didn’t like me—after all, I was taking some of Mrs. Grant’s attention.

But every year at Thanksgiving and on my birthday, his gift card was always the biggest.

We were three years apart, and only saw each other on weekends.

When he turned nineteen, his dad pushed him to enlist, so we saw each other even less.

But he never missed a single gift card—each one bigger than the last.

Mrs. Grant had been reluctant to send him off, but Mr. Grant was firm: “That kid’s values are all wrong. If we don’t straighten him out now, it’ll be too late!”

Now, looking at the photos on my phone…

Is the men’s fitness class part of the straightening-out process?

My cheeks burned.

I turned away, trying to hide it, only to find Zoe Carter standing in front of me at some point.

She smiled, eyes curved. “So Lillian isn’t as pure as she looks after all!”

Her voice was syrupy sweet, but her eyes glinted with mischief. In that moment, I realized—this girl was playing her own game, and she wasn’t going to let me forget it. I squared my shoulders, refusing to let her see me flinch.