“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’m sending you a video.” She fumbles with the phone for a few seconds. “I’ll call you back.” She hangs up, and I go to the bathroom and walk out into my living area. My phone beeps a text, and I hit play.

Henley is talking to two men. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt and talking and laughing. He’s looking all relaxed while drinking a Corona beer. A hot girl walks past, and his eyes drop to her behind. And then he says something to his friends before turning his attention back to her behind.

My heart sinks.

Wow . . .

My phone rings again. “Hi,” I answer.

“See it?”

“Yep.” I sigh.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Chloe spits.

“Whatever, I don’t care what he does.” I act unruffled.

“Can I tell him what I think of him?”

“No,” I snap. “Forget him like I have. I’m going back to bed.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be. I’m not,” I lie.

“Breakfast in the morning?” she asks.

I can’t believe this.

I really don’t want to spend all day tomorrow listening to disco tales of Henley James, and seeing Chloe tomorrow will open the gates for that. “I can’t. I’m seeing my parents,” I tell her. “Catch up next week?”

“Sure, babe.” She hesitates. “You okay?”

No.

“Of course I am.” I smile sadly. “Bye.”

I hang up, and with my heart in my throat, I torture myself and watch the video of Henley again.

The way he’s all relaxed and happy. The way he looks at that girl’s behind.

The way it makes me feel.

As reality sets in, an old proverb runs through my mind: If something seems too good to be true, it usually is.

Asshole.

We walk down the crowded footpath. “So then, I wait at home all night, and Chloe calls to tell me he’s in a club at two a.m.,” I continue on my rant to Liam.

“Why did you sleep with him? That’s not like you to give it up on a first date,” he replies, uninterested.

“Because he was the best date of my fucking life, that’s why. And maybe I just wanted to be a bad girl for one night, you know?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Because you’re my brother, that’s why. If you had the best date of your life, would you play Mr. Innocent to prove a point?”

He rolls his eyes. “Are we going in here?” He gestures to a restaurant.

Poor Liam. I made him come to lunch with me so I can vent all about my weekend from hell.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “This will do.” I push the heavy door open, and we wait in line to be served.

“How do you know it was even him in the club? Chloe was probably wearing beer goggles.”

“Because she sent me a video of him.”

“She took a video of him?” He screws up his face in disgust. “That’s not creepy at all.”

“Look.” I bring up the video that I know by heart by now because I’ve watched it ten thousand times.

I hit play, and he watches the footage. “He’s a douche, Juliet.”

I exhale heavily. “It was the best night of my life.”

“No, it wasn’t. Look how he made you feel. He’s a fucktard. Forget him.”

I sigh heavily. “I guess.”

“What’s his name, anyway?”

“Henley.”

“That’s a weird name.” He curls his lip in disgust. “Hen as in chicken?”

“Hen as in cock, I would say.” I widen my eyes.

He winces. “Yuck, too much information.”

As we wait, he watches the video on my phone again. He passes it back in disgust. “If I ever see him, I’ll knock him out for you,” he mutters dryly. “Deal?”

“Okay, deal.” I smile, feeling a little bit better that my younger brother is also one of my best friends.

We get to the front of the line. “Hello, can we have a table for two, please?” I ask.

The hostess looks over the booking sheet. “I just have to get the table cleared. Can you wait for five minutes?”

“Sure.”

She gestures to a waiting area. “Just wait in there, and I’ll call you when it’s ready. What’s the name?”

“Juliet.”

We make our way into the bar area to wait for our table, and I watch the video of Henley again. I don’t know why I keep watching the damn thing. It’s as if I’m hoping to find evidence that this actually isn’t him.

If only.

Liam’s hand comes up over my back, and I frown as I stare at my phone. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching him a lesson.”

“What?” I glance up to see Henley approaching us.

What the fuck?

“Hello, Juliet.” He fakes a smile. Looking like he just stepped off a runway, he’s wearing a gray suit, white shirt, and blue tie. His dark hair is all just mussed to perfection, and Oh my god, what the hell are you doing here?

“Henley, hi.”

Henley turns his attention to Liam. “Who are you?”

Liam smiles like an evil Cheshire cat. “Liam.” He gestures to me. “Juliet’s fiancé.”

He did not just say that.

Henley’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he puts his weight onto his back foot. His jaw flexes. “Fiancé?”

No, no, no.

No!

“That’s right.” Liam continues with his lies. “Do you know her well?”

Just shut the hell up!

Henley’s eyes come to me, and he rolls his lips. Fury oozes out of him. “Perhaps not.”

Please, earth, swallow me whole.

He glares at me, and I want to tell him this is all a lie, but what’s the point? He’s a douche and wouldn’t care anyway.

“Have a nice life, Julietttt.” He accentuates the T in my name. “With”—he looks Liam up and down and smirks as if amused—“your cute little fiancé.”

Arrogance personified.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Liam asks as he acts dumb.

Henley brushes past and purposely miscalculates the distance between them. He bumps Liam with his shoulder so hard that he nearly goes flying over. He pushes the heavy door open and storms out.

Liam stares after him. “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” I gasp. “Why the fuck would you say that? Now he thinks I’m a ho bag.”

“It takes one to know one.” He drops his shoulders as if pleased with himself. “He liked you.”

“How can you tell?”

He smiles broadly, feeling very pleased with himself. “He was pissed.”

“And this is funny because . . . ,” I gasp, infuriated.

“He had his chance, and he blew it. Touché, fucker.”