Page 68 of Easy On Me

Frowning, I held out my hand, but she didn’t give me the phone.

“Tate called. One of his guys follows Elizabeth online plus he has an Off-Record account.” Apology lurked in her hesitant explanation. She gripped the device, fingers white with the pressure.

Off-Record? I mean, I knew what it was, one of those sites where ordinary people put up homemade porn for money, but why was Tate calling Hannah about that? And what did it have to do with Elizabeth?

Surely not. Surely she wasn’t posting nude pics of herself online. Her mama would . . . shit, Elizabeth. She had to be smarter than that.

“Okay.” I pried the phone from her reluctant grip.

“She couldn’t tag you because your social media accounts are private but there’s a link—“

“Oh, hell.” I stared at the video, stomach crawling. Elizabeth’s bathroom, my work clothes scattered on the floor, and I was . . .

Naked.

Under the water.

A hand braced on the wall,

Another wrapped around my dick, forearm moving while I . . .

Likes and emojis floated up, hearts and starry eyes and eggplants.

Notifications of the video being shared.

God, no.

There were comments.

People were watching this.

I didn't even know it existed, and people were watching.

Commenting.

Sharing.

You'll be sorry.

I'd have to tell Daddy about this.

Mama.

Grandma.

You’ll be sorry.

My stomach turned . Scott jumped out of his chair, diving for the trash can and shoved it in front of me.

Tyler.

I was going to have to tell Tyler about this.

My gut heaved, and I retched, everything I'd eaten today coming up.

My God. My God. She'd said I'd be sorry and now . . . and now . . .

My stomach cramped, another wave of vomit scouring my throat.