I blink between the two of them. “Wait,” I say slowly, ignoring my phone as it vibrates again. “Josh. You’ve had feelings for her all this time?”
Josh starts to speak, but Zack interrupts him. “You seriously didn’t know?” He snipes. “He’d been trying to psych himself up to ask her out for months before we came up with this stupid segment. That’s why he was always so pissy when she went out on dates with other guys. He was jealous.”
I look at Josh. “Is that true?”
A muscle twitches in his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything, fixing his gaze to the floor. My stomach sinks.
I don’t know who I feel worse for, honestly. This situation must be breaking Josh’s heart, but Zack’s right — it was seriously unfair to Layla to not tell her about his feelings before offering to help her.
God, what a mess.
Zack sighs, shaking his head. “Look, man, if you want her, go for it. You haven’t broken up with her.”
“I can’t,” Josh counters. “She doesn’t want me. Don’t you get it? She wants this.” He waves between the three of us. “She wants us. All of us, or nothing. I’m not enough for her.” My phone buzzes again, and he groans. “For God’s sake, will you answer your damn phone?!”
I pull my mobile out of my pocket, checking the screen. Amy’s been texting me. I scan through the messages, my blood going cold.
AMY: If I can’t convince you, maybe these will.
AMY: a picture is worth a thousand words, right?
AMY: （sent 11 images）
My heart suddenly pounding, I tap to open the photos.
They’re all pictures of Layla at the wedding. Layla kissing all three of us.
There’s one of me, standing next to her and brushing a kiss over her cheek. A handful of her with Zack, laughing as he pulls her against him, nuzzling her neck. And three or four very blurry pictures of her with Josh. She’s clinging to his lapels as he dips her down into a deep kiss, half-hidden by some huge vases of flowers. They’re not professional photos; they look like someone snapped them surreptitiously with a phone camera.
This is bad.
Swiping on Amy’s contact, I call her back. She picks up on the second ring.
“Luke—”
“Where did you get those photos?” I demand.
“Hello, Amy, how’s the honeymoon?” She drawls, sounding irritated. “I hope the flight was okay. What’s the weather like in Madrid?”
“You’re the one who decided to spend the first day of her honeymoon looking for incriminating photos to gossip about,” I spit. “Where the hell did you get these?”
She scoffs. “I didn’t take them, if that’s what you’re accusing me of. I had better things to do at my own wedding than spying on your little girlfriend.” She sniffs. “It turns out a few of the guests recognised you from your show. They saw the opportunity to pap you, and they took it.”
God. My skin feels cold. How could we have been so stupid? The wedding was a public event. We were all so caught up in Layla that we forgot how our relationship might look on the outside. “You have to delete them. Don’t share them with anyone else, okay? They make Layla look terrible.”
“Do they?” She says, her voice acidic. “It’s not like they’re doctored, Luke. If they make her look terrible, it’s because she is terrible. You need to wake up from this stupid fantasy and realise that she’s cheating on you.”
“I told you, it’s not like that! I knew she was with Josh and Zack. They’ve kissed her in front of me plenty of times, for God’s sake.”
There’s a long pause. “Oh my God,” Amy says eventually. “Are you serious? I think I’ve heard of guys who like to see their girls get with other men… what the Hell is that called…？”
“I don’t have time for this!” I burst out. “Just tell me that you’ll delete the pictures!”
“It’s too late, hon. You’re all celebrities now, remember?”
“What does that mean?”
“They’re all over social media. That’s where I found them in the first place. Surprised you haven’t seen them yet, honestly. I—”
I hang up and slam the phone onto the coffee table. Josh and Zack have stopped arguing and are both watching me warily. “Check our Twitter,” I tell Josh. He’s the one who controls all our shared socials.
He frowns. “What? But—”