What a lazy Sunday! I'm sprawled on the couch, sinking into the deep comfort of our old cushions, completely absorbed in the TV series *Lucifer*. Do you know this show? It's **fantastic**!

I mean, Lucifer Morningstar is devilishly charming—no pun intended—and oh-so-hot! There's something about his smirk, his confidence, and, let's be honest, those cheekbones that make it impossible to stop watching.

I've been binge-watching for hours now, lost in this world, and I suddenly glance at my phone. Past 2 PM already? Oops. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. Time to hit the store.

I peek into Nick's room. He's still dead to the world, snoring softly. He didn't get home until 1 AM last night—typical Nick. He deserves the extra sleep, so I let him be. After quickly getting dressed and throwing on some sneakers, I step outside and order an Uber. While I'm waiting, my phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number.

**Unknown:** "Can we talk?"

I frown, staring at the message. **Who is this?**

It doesn't seem like one of those spam texts, so out of curiosity, I reply.

**Me:** "Who is this?"

I shove my phone back into my pocket just as the Uber pulls up. Time to focus on food—I'll deal with mysterious texts later. The ride to the grocery store is uneventful, giving me a few precious minutes to scroll mindlessly through social media.

In the middle of grabbing tomato sauce, my phone rings, breaking my concentration. Without thinking, I answer, half expecting some follow-up spam.

"Hello, who is this?" I ask, slightly irritated.

"Hey—it's me, Clay."

Ugh, not *this* again. Just hearing his voice makes me want to throw my phone into the nearest shelf of canned beans.

"What do you want?" I ask, my tone flat.

"I just... I wanted to apologize for what happened." His voice is full of regret, but it only annoys me more.

I roll my eyes. "Clay, I've already forgiven you. There's no point in dredging this up again. We're over. Move on." I keep my voice firm but calm, hoping to end this quickly.

"Please, Arwen, just hear me out—"

"Goodbye, Clayton." I hang up without waiting for him to finish. I can't believe he still has the nerve to reach out. There's nothing left to talk about.

After I learned about Clayton's intentions through Jaimes. I went to their locker room the following day. He was surprised to see me, but when he noticed how serious I was, he walked toward me.

"Arwen, I was waiting for you last night. You and your friends didn't show up. What happened?"

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

They had won the game the night before, and if Jaimes hadn't informed me about Clayton's plan, I would have been the reason for their party not happening.

I looked him straight in the eyes and said.

"Can I share something with you? Your phone?"

My tone was so formal that Clayton's smile vanished from his face. Without a word, he followed my instruction. I transferred the file to him, and once it was done, I played the audio I had. It was just a short recording, but we both definitely knew it was him.

After he heard the audio, he looked at me and said, "Arwen... let me explain." But I stopped him.

"No, stop. I don’t want to see you near me ever again." With that, I left him without giving him a chance to explain.

Like I even cared!

I toss my phone back into my bag and try to focus on finding the last few ingredients on my list. By the time I reach the checkout line, I've almost forgotten about the call, but then my phone buzzes again. With a sigh, I glance at it while waiting for the cashier to scan my items.

**My Boyfriend.**

What? My heart skips a beat. I don't remember saving anyone under that name. I hesitate but pick up the call, curiosity getting the best of me.

"Hello?" I say cautiously.

"Hello, angel," a familiar voice purrs.

Oh no. **Jaimes Sullivan**. His smooth voice sends a shiver down my spine, even though I'd rather not admit it.

"What do you want, Jaimes?" I ask, trying to sound bored, though my heart races faster than I'd like.

"Well, I miss my girlfriend," he teases, clearly enjoying himself.

"Funny, I'm sure you should be calling her, not me," I reply dryly, paying for my groceries.

"Where are you?" he asks, completely ignoring my comment.

"At the market, why?"

"Tell me where you are, and I'll come get you."

There's a pause. I haven't seen him in five days, and even though I don't want to admit it, I've missed him. Against my better judgment, I tell him where I am. Not ten minutes later, Jaimes pulls up in his sleek black car, grinning that devilish grin of his.

"I'm famished," he says as I hop into the car.

"I haven't cooked yet, obviously," I reply, laughing as we drive back to my apartment.

When we arrive, Jaimes helps carry the grocery bags inside. I offer him a soda, and he plops down on the couch, looking around our living room.

"So, where's Latrelle?" he asks casually, referring to Nick.

"He's asleep," I reply, just as the door to Nick's room swings open, and out walks my brother, shirtless and rubbing his eyes.

The tension in the room skyrockets as soon as Nick spots Jaimes. His eyes narrow, and I can feel the heat of his disapproval before he even speaks.

"Sullivan," Nick greets coldly.

"Latrelle," Jaimes replies smoothly, not even flinching.

"What's he doing here?" Nick turns to me, his voice sharp.

"I gave her a ride home from the supermarket," Jaimes says, shooting me a quick glance.

Nick glares at me, ignoring Jaimes completely. "Arwen, didn't I tell you to stay away from him?"

I feel my temper rising. "Nick, Jaimes is my guest," I snap.

Jaimes stands up, sensing the growing tension.

"I better go," he says, flashing me an apologetic smile.

"We can hang out another time."

As he heads out, he throws a teasing remark over his shoulder.

"See you around, Latrelle."

Nick doesn't even respond, but his eyes follow Jaimes out the door. The second Jaimes is gone, Nick turns to me, his face serious.

"Arwen, I told you—"

"Stop, Nick!"

I cut him off, slamming down the can of soda I was holding.

"You can't control who I spend time with!"

"I'm just trying to protect you," he says, his voice softening.

"Protect me from what? You don't even know him!"

Nick is silent, his jaw clenched. We stare at each other, tension filling the air, and before he can say anything else, I storm off to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

Why is it always like this? Why does he think he can control every aspect of my life? I collapse onto my bed, heart pounding, frustration coursing through me.