Swiped by the Billionaire Cousin

Midnight, and the hottest guy on campus was crowdsourcing how to dump his girlfriend.

Him: [Been talking to this girl online for three months. We finally meet up next week. Just found out she's like a hundred and eighty pounds. What do I do??]

The top comment had more upvotes than the post and not one ounce of conscience.

Top comment: [Easy. Sign the whole thing over, account and girlfriend both, to someone you already hate. Let the two most annoying people you know cancel each other out.]

He loved that.

Him: [GENIUS. My cousin's the most insufferable little worm alive. Done.]

I actually laughed. Scrolled past it. Thought, thank God my boyfriend isn't a walking red flag.

Cute of me.

Not long after, I was on a date. My boyfriend's hand was in mine and my whole chest was warm with it, and that same guy came tearing across the room, jabbed a finger in my boyfriend's face, and screamed loud enough to kill the music.

"You son of a bitch. I'm supposed to be Quinn's boyfriend. Give her back. Her AND the account."

Chapter 1

I was two minutes from asleep when the post reached up and grabbed me by the throat.

Because I knew the guy who'd written it.

Trip. The one every girl on campus kept a folder for. Captain of nothing, king of everything, and apparently three months deep in an online relationship he was now live-posting the funeral of.

Him: [I'm losing it. She told me she was five-six and a total smokeshow. I believed her for THREE MONTHS.]

Him: [Forgot to ask about the weight.]

Him: [Sent her a delivery today, told the driver to scope her out. Driver says a whole barrel rolled down to the lobby. Legs thicker than her waist. Basically half a hog. I have been calling half a hog "babe" for three months and I want to fake my own death.]

The comments were a pile-on.

Commenters: [simp got exactly what he ordered. post a pic and humble him.]

Commenters: [rope always snaps at the thin spot. fate really came for the pretty-boys this year.]

Him: [it's past funny. we're supposed to meet up NEXT WEEK. I want to commit crimes against every catfish alive.]

Huh. Funny. My boyfriend and I were meeting up next week too.

I thumbed back to my messages. The last thing from him still sat there from dinnertime.

Lynx: [Lab tonight. Don't wait up.]

It was nearly ten. I typed.

Me: [babe you still buried? just saw a post that made my blood boil]

Nothing. He was probably heads-down, no phones on the lab floor. I didn't sweat it and went back to the thread.

In the time I'd looked away, Trip had gotten worse.

Him: [she will NOT quit. messaging me again. I see her profile picture and my stomach turns.]

Him: [going to go throw up. brb.]

A couple of people told him to have some decency. He mowed them down.

Him: [you're so noble, YOU go date the pig. she catfished her way into my DMs and where's HER apology? me not dragging her by name is me being a gentleman.]

There it was. The thing under the jokes.

I've never liked watching a good-looking guy open his mouth and let the rot fall out. Three months of "babe," and the second the picture in his head stopped matching the one he wanted, she stopped being a person and turned into a punchline.

I swiped the thread shut. Not that interesting.

Back to my messages. Still nothing from him.

That was new. In three months he'd never once left me hanging overnight. Pulling an all-nighter, maybe. I sent a goodnight, killed the screen, and slept.

First thing in the morning, I checked.

Still nothing.

...The hell?

The thread, though. The thread had moved.

I read the new top comment with my eyebrows climbing.

Top comment: [easy fix. sign the whole thing over, account and girlfriend both, to someone you can't stand. let the two most annoying people you know cancel out.]

God. People were vile.

Plenty of replies said it was a step too far. Trip was not one of them.

Him: [BROTHER. genius. my cousin's the most punchable little worm I've got. consider it done.]

Trip had a cousin?

News to me.

Whatever those two had going was their problem. Mine was sitting right in front of me, gray and unanswered.

Why had my boyfriend gone dark?

I scrolled our chat again. Nothing off. He'd ordered me sushi last night. He'd even told me, unprompted, that he was headed to the lab.

So why the silence?

Chapter 2

I was still deciding whether to just call him when my phone finally buzzed.

Lynx: [Morning, babe.]

Relief hit first. Then something smaller and pettier.

Me: [you vanished on me ALL night]

Lynx: [I'm sorry, babe. Lab ran long.]

Of course. The lab. I let it go.

Me: [fine. you're grudgingly forgiven]

Lynx: [Don't forgive me that fast. You're allowed to stay mad at me, babe.]

Something about the way he kept landing on babe made my ears go warm.

Me: [why's your mouth so sweet today]

Lynx: [Missed you.]

Me: [we talk every single day. you cannot possibly miss me]

The three dots sat there a while.

Lynx: [A lot.]

Lynx: [Can't wait to see you, babe.]

Who taught him to do that overnight?

My heart did something I hadn't signed off on. I switched apps and scrolled nothing for a minute, just to get my face under control.

Three months we'd been doing this. Three months of him playing it cool, the aloof type, tossing out a "babe" now and then but never once getting clingy. We'd met in a game, added each other on throwaway accounts, never even traded a real photo. I knew his username better than his face.

And today the username was a completely different guy.

Off. Deeply off.

The thought landed before I could stop it. What did he do?

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then I quit being coy and went straight at it.

Me: [you're acting weird. spill it. what did you do]

The dots came and went. Then, instead of typing, he sent a voice note.

I pressed play.

"Busted," he said, low and warm. "I bought you a little cake. Looks like I'm wrecking your diet again today, babe."

And just like that I was soft again. Traitor.

Here's the thing. He'd sent voice notes before, always in that fake-deep, staged bubble tone. Not bad. Nothing like this. This one came out clear and bright and went straight through me.

I saved it. Then I recorded one back.

"You're so strange today. Weird reactions, weird words. Even your voice is weird."

His reply came fast.

"This kind of strange. Would you hate it?"

Would I?

I'm a soft touch and I know it. I cleared my throat and hit record.

"Nope. Keep it up."

He laughed. I felt it in my teeth.

"Okay, babe. Come down and get your cake."

Cake for breakfast. Absolutely criminal. I hated myself the whole time I was brushing my teeth at warp speed.

"Quinn. You're up early." Cass blinked at me from her bed like I'd grown a second head.

"My boyfriend bought me cake." I grabbed my hoodie. "You got a delivery down there? I'll bring it up."

"I've got it," Cass said, waving me off.

"You grabbed mine yesterday. My turn." We traded off like that, whoever was awake ran down for both of us.

Cass was already standing. "Fine, together. I'm counting the stairs as cardio." She'd been on meds a while, the kind that came with a body she hadn't ordered, and she'd been quietly chipping away at it. She said the stairs thing like a joke, so I took it like one, and we went down together.

The delivery shelf sat just outside the dorm. Early enough that we mostly had it to ourselves. I found the cake fast. Two boxes, actually, with a note spelled out clear as day.

Order note: [One for Little Deer. One for Little Deer's roommate.]

I stared at it for two seconds and lost the fight against a grin. I waved it at Cass. "My boyfriend's buying everybody cake now."

Cass read it and squawked. "Thank you, Quinn and her husband. Is it your anniversary? Look at us, mooching off the happy couple."

I laughed for her.

But standing there in the cold with two little boxes going warm in my hands, I did the math I didn't want to do. In three months, the guy on the other end of that account had never once thought about my roommate. Had barely thought to spoil me.

This one bought cake for a girl he'd never met, just because she shared a room with me.

Same account. Same username.

Who are you today?

Chapter 3

Funny thing was, in all these months the account had barely ever ordered me food, never mind buying for my roommate too. Maybe last night's all-nighter had actually produced a breakthrough. Maybe he'd lost his mind from joy.

I was reaching for my phone to ask when someone called out ahead of me.

"Quinn?"

I looked up and stopped short. "Oh. Trip."

Trip. Of all people.

He crossed to us in a few strides, his eyes sliding to Cass beside me, and his mouth pinched with distaste. Then he caught the cake in her hands, and something flickered through his face.

Something almost gleeful.

I didn't like the look on him. I cut in. "Did you need something?"

Trip cleared his throat. "So my club's got a thing next weekend. Group hangout, pretty fun. You should come."

I frowned.

Didn't Trip have a girlfriend? Why was he inviting me anywhere?

No. Hold on.

I thought back to the thread from that morning. Trip had signed his whole account over to someone he hated. Which meant, technically, he was now...

Single.

The nastiest single alive.

I passed. "Sorry. I'm seeing my boyfriend next weekend. No time."

Trip's face locked up. "You have a boyfriend??"

"I do." I kept my voice pleasant. "For a while now."

I ignored the crease deepening between his brows and towed Cass away.

"Quinn." Cass waggled her eyebrows the second we were clear. "You are not a fan of his."

"Didn't he do that whole quiet-crush thing on you a while back? Posting on the campus confessions page, love letters into the void?"

Two vague lines online counted as pursuit? That was harassment with better lighting.

And he'd had an online girlfriend the entire time he was doing it. Tells you everything you need to know about a guy.

Back in the room, I photographed both cakes from every angle, curated nine of them, and dumped the whole set on him.

Me: [ty for the feast, big guy!! mwah]

He replied almost instantly, and fixated on the wrong word entirely.

Lynx: [big guy?]

I hit record, grinning. "My bad. Thanks for the feast, boyfriend."

Lynx: [Say it again.]

I indulged him. "Boyfriend."

The other end went quiet for a beat. Then my phone started detonating.

CashApp: [Lynx sent you $520.00 (because I can't stop).]

CashApp: [Lynx sent you $999.99 (for as long as you'll have me).]

CashApp: [Lynx sent you 0-0,314.00]

Me: [are you INSANE?? why are you sending me this much money]

You have to understand. In all the time we'd been talking, the account had sent me money exactly once. My birthday. Five dollars, and then twenty, like he'd rounded up out of guilt. A truly cursed love language.

Lynx: [Too happy. I need my girl happy with me.]

I laughed before I could stop it, and was still typing when the next line came in.

Lynx: [Babe. I want to come see you sooner. Is that okay?]

Something in my chest tipped over. My mouth curved on its own.

Me: [sooner meaning?]

He sent a screenshot. A ticket. This Saturday, pulling into my city.

I clocked the purchase time in the corner. 6:03 that morning. He'd bought it the second the booking window opened.

Three days. He'd be here in three days, and my stomach was already somewhere up near my throat.

I looked at the passenger name on the ticket.

Kai.

I said it once, under my breath, just to hear it.

Yeah. Good name.

Chapter 4

When I didn't answer right away, the other end started to spiral.

Lynx: [babe?]

Lynx: [too sudden?]

Lynx: [we can still do next week. don't be mad, okay...]

Mad. As if.

I wrote back fast.

Me: [not mad!! just surprised. come!! i'll get you at the station]

He relaxed so hard I could feel it through the screen, firing my own exclamation points right back at me.

Lynx: [YESSS]

Absolute goofball. I made a face at my phone and grinned the whole way through it.

Then a thought landed, and I typed it out.

Me: [should we trade a photo first? so we don't miss each other]

We'd met in a game. Alt accounts, both of us. Not one real picture between us, anywhere.

He didn't answer.

The seconds crawled. My nerves kicked in. What if he was, tragically, a lot to look at?

Me: [okay at least give me a height. narrow the field?]

Because if a guy is six feet tall, he'll find a way to work it into the first three sentences. Everyone knows that.

Still nothing.

I was quietly starting to fall apart. And, briefly, horribly, I understood exactly what Trip had been going through.

I was one second from hitting video-call when my phone buzzed.

A selfie. No warning.

Black shirt. Buzzcut. A jaw you could open mail with, eyes cold enough to frost the lens, two little silver piercings through one brow.

I looked at it for exactly one second and slapped the phone face-down on the desk.

Oh my GOD he was hot.

What had I, Quinn, ever done to deserve a boyfriend who looked like THAT?

The phone buzzed under my palm.

Lynx: [babe i'm really not much to look at... my roommates say i come off scary]

Lynx: [i'm not scary though.]

Lynx: [you can be scary to me instead.]

WHERE was my oxygen tank. Where.

I made a noise I'm not proud of, kicked my heels against the bedframe for a while, and finally typed back with fake composure.

Me: [not scary. very hot.]

And then I spiraled in the other direction. He looked like that. What was I supposed to do with that.

Like he'd reached through the phone and read my mind, he sent one more.

Lynx: [it's enough that you know my face now. i like you exactly how you are, babe.]

Which somehow only made me feel shallower.

I was building a rebuttal when he changed lanes on me.

Lynx: [got a final this period, babe. talk later.]

I sent back an ok.

His last message was a sticker, a cartoon puppy blowing a kiss, and I looked at it and exhaled all the way to the bottom of my lungs.

I deserve good things. I do. But being handed the best one, right when I'd finally stopped bracing for it, made my hands shake.

Since my class day was light, I hauled Cass out to the shopping district. Racks, a blowout, a full set of nails.

By the time I was assembled, Cass eyed me sideways. "Is Miss Universe filming on campus?"

I cracked up. "No. I'm meeting my boyfriend."

Cass tsked. "Dressed like a frosted cupcake. Just stand on the balcony and let the man look up at you."

We were still cackling when I turned and clipped a stranger with my shoulder.

"Sorry, I" I turned the rest of the way. "Trip? You shop here too?"

Behind me, Trip's face was doing something strange.

He looked at me. His brows drew slowly together.

"Quinn. Are you in an online relationship?"

"You and your boyfriend... are you two meeting up soon?"

Chapter 5

Bro. You eavesdrop on my entire conversation, fine. But then you make it about yourself?

My boyfriend is nothing like you.

I gave Trip two words of nothing and towed Cass out of there.

By the time we got back to the dorm it was night. Kai had a late class, and he'd told me hours in advance, unprompted.

Bored, I lay on my bed and scrolled the forum. Trip's thread had only gotten hotter. Mostly people dying for the next episode.

Commenters: [OP status update?? you signed the account away and went dark.]

Commenters: [don't tell me the cousin found out. want us to start a GoFundMe for his hospital bills?]

Trip was pleased with himself.

Him: [my cousin, that thirsty moron, I told him she's a 5'6" ten and he just started nodding along. they are getting ALONG. babe this, babe that, all day. word is they're actually gonna meet up.]

Him: [the day he sees what that pig really looks like, I'm screenshotting his face. hahaha.]

Every time he typed pig, something in me pulled tight.

I'd been a foodie my whole life, and my grandma loved me too much to ever tell me no, so I grew up soft and round. When you're little, nobody's keeping score. Then high school happened, and I learned fast what teenagers do to the fat kid in the room. Left out. Laughed at. Discussed in a voice pitched just loud enough to reach me.

So I dropped the weight the hard way. It came off, eventually. But those words never stopped landing the same way.

I didn't want to look anymore. I was reaching to close the thread when the page twitched and Trip posted again. Not smug this time. Rattled.

Him: [ran into my girl tonight. THE girl. turns out she's in an online thing too, about to meet the guy. what are the ODDS.]

The comments came apart.

Commenters: [my dog just took a two-pound dump, want to come taste-test it for seasoning?]

Commenters: [her love life is not your business. leave the poor girl alone.]

Commenters: [you don't secretly think she's YOUR catfish, do you? did the pig knock something loose up there?]

I let my eyes go flat. Laughed once, with nothing behind it, and swiped the thread gone.

Saturday came fast.

I was up before my alarm, put together and out the door and pointed straight at the train station. I'd seen his departure city when he booked. Same state. Two, three hours, tops.

I hit the station just past nine, flowers crushed in one hand, phone sweating in the other, heart going like I'd run the whole way. I checked the time and checked it again.

Nine-twenty. Another wave poured out of the arrivals gate.

One of them stopped me where I stood. A guy, all in black. Black cap pulled low, tall, built lean and clean, half his face swallowed by the brim, but you could tell from twenty feet that the man was gorgeous.

My feet moved before I decided anything. Our eyes found each other.

And the second they did, he flinched.

Actually flinched. Like he'd walked into a wall.

Wrong guy? Or one look at me and he was already regretting it?

I was still hanging there, off-balance, when a hand dropped onto my shoulder and a voice I could not stand slid in from behind.

"Quinn. Small world. You here to grab somebody too?"

It came out of nowhere and I jumped half out of my skin