My Date's Brother Was My Online Boyfriend

I told my mother the twentyeightyearold she'd picked out for me was too old, and asked to meet his collegeage little brother instead.

Two days later, sure enough, my mother passed along the younger brother's Instagram. He barely spoke.

He was sweet, painfully innocent, and at night, on our calls, his voice would shake.

Then, on the day we were finally supposed to meet, I stood outside the private room and heard him telling his friends: "She wants somebody young.

I'm not dating somebody that old." "My brother's the one who's into her anyway, so I just let him do the talking for me." Chapter 1 I stood outside the door of the private room for a long time without moving.

His friend took that in and asked, "Then why'd you even show up today?" Inside, the younger brother, Beckett, frowned, impatient. "My mom.

She and this girl's mom became fast friends, and now she won't let it go. She wants to bring the two families together." "Except the girl passed on my brother.

She only wants me." "I'm a sophomore, and my mom strongarmed me into coming to this." His friend tried to console him. "You haven't even seen a picture of her.

What if she's actually hot?" Beckett scoffed. "Either way, I'm not interested in anybody three years older than me." I listened to that, and all at once I couldn't see any reason to go through with the meeting.

Besides, today was movein day for the graduate students, and I still had to get my things over to the new campus that afternoon.

So I took out my phone and opened the chat pinned at the top.

Looking back on it now, that account was probably one of Beckett's finstas, a throwaway second Instagram, and it had been his brother on the other end of it the whole time.

No wonder he'd been so obviously worked up since that morning. He couldn't stop talking, either: [Baby, what time are you getting there?

Can we move it to another day?] [Do you really only like guys who are young…] [Baby, I have an older brother.

What if you met him too?] I'd thought it was funny at the time, and I'd given him every bit of reassurance he could want: [Relax. I'm not meeting your brother.

I only like the young ones, like you.] After that, the other end went quiet. Now every strange thing about that morning had an explanation.

The person on the other end was Beckett's brother, and he had been afraid of me meeting Beckett. I sighed and sent a message. [Sorry, Baby.

Something came up and I can't make it today. Let's meet another time.] The reply came back the second it sent. [Really?? That's great.] Me: ?

He unsent it almost immediately and tried to fix it. [I meant that's such a shame, Baby.] [To make it up to me, can we still get on a call tonight?] It was hard to picture his brother Dalton saying anything like that.

When we first started talking, he'd been quiet and oldfashioned and so innocent it was almost painful. It took me forever to talk him into getting on a call.

Later, once things went further between us, his voice shook on the phone from pure embarrassment. And now he came looking for a call every single night.

Kids, I'd thought at the time. That's what having that much energy looks like. It never once crossed my mind that the person on the other end was a twentyeightyearold Dalton.

Wasn't twentyfive supposed to be when men started slowing down? Dalton wasn't showing much sign of it.

A minute later, inside the room, Beckett picked up a call from his brother. "She's not coming? Something came up?" Dalton said. Beckett let out a visible breath and stood up.

Chapter 2 "Good. I didn't want to do this anyway," Beckett said. "I have to head back to campus this afternoon. I don't have time to waste on her." I didn't wait for the rest.

I turned and walked away from the door. After lunch I picked up my suitcase and headed over to the new campus to check in.

A lot of people had come in that day, graduate students and incoming freshmen both. The orientation volunteers were shorthanded, so they'd been pulling other students in to help.

I stood in the shade with my suitcase, and on the phone my mother was still yelling at me. "Why didn't you go meet him?!" "Do you know how much work it took me to get his mother to hand over her younger son's account?

And that still isn't good enough for you?!" I had a ball cap on. I kept my head down and let her talk, all the fight gone out of me.

While she was still going, a pair of white sneakers came into view, and a flat voice came from somewhere above me. "Freshman?

Come with me." I had earbuds in and didn't catch it the first time. He wasn't wearing an orientation badge, so he'd probably been drafted into hauling luggage against his will.

It was all over his face. He clicked his tongue. Whatever patience he had ran out fast. "I said, I'm taking you to check—" He didn't finish.

I'd finally looked up, and my face came out from under the brim. His voice cut out midword. And that was when I recognized him too.

It was Beckett, the same Beckett I'd seen through that door a few hours earlier. I hadn't known he went here.

By rights I shouldn't have known who he was at all, since we'd never traded names or pictures.

We were going to introduce ourselves properly when we met, and the meeting never happened. He couldn't stand the sight of me.

So I didn't say a word about what we were to each other, and acted like a stranger. I took my earbuds out and gave him a polite nod. "Sure.

Sorry to put you out." For once, Beckett went blank.

Two seconds later, he took the suitcase out of my hand without a word, and his voice came out slower, like it didn't fit right in his mouth. "…It's fine.

You're not putting me out." Everything after that went smoothly. Beckett even carried my suitcase all the way up to the sixth floor. I was a little surprised.

Was orientation at Carrow always this attentive? He set the suitcase down outside my door.

He hadn't said anything the whole way up, and now he looked like a man who'd made up his mind about something. He held his phone out to me. "Hey.

Can I get your—" He didn't finish that one either. My mother FaceTimed me again.

I was terrified she'd see Beckett standing next to me and start trying to push us together all over again, so I thanked him in a hurry, waved goodbye, and didn't pick up until I was inside.

Fifteen minutes later the call ended with me agreeing to meet him one more time. Only then did she let me off the hook. Our place was a fourbedroom apartment.

My roommates went around introducing themselves, and then started trading stories about the school.

Megan had done her undergrad here and stayed on for her master's, so she knew the place best.

She'd finished unpacking early and was curled up on the couch in the living room, scrolling.

I was making my bed when I heard her say, "Holy shit." Megan leaned into my doorway and held out her phone. "Angie, somebody put up a missed connection for you on Perch!" "What's Perch?" I said. "It's a campus app some CS guy a few years ahead of us built.

Everyone's been on it for years." She waved that off. "That's not the point.

The point is, the guy behind the missed connection is Beckett!" One of the other roommates asked, "Who's Beckett?" "The bestlooking guy on campus," Megan said. "Nobody ever held a vote, it's just a known fact.

I was a senior the year he started." "There was a whole pile of upperclassman girls on there begging for his handle, and you know what Beckett said?" Chapter 3 "He said he only dates girls younger than him," Megan said.

I was lost. "But I'm a firstyear master's student." Megan just forwarded the post into our group chat. "Look at it yourselves." I frowned in spite of myself.

Had Beckett seen me once and gone straight to Perch to hunt me down? I opened the post.

The photo was me under the tree with my cap on and my head down, shot from far enough away that it was blurry.

The title read: [Looking for this freshman's Instagram. $2,000 to whoever comes through.] Two thousand dollars was all it took to set the comments on fire. [No way.

He's not even anonymous? Putting up a missed connection off his own account?] [Obviously. It's Beckett.

Going anonymous would be a waste.] [Beckett never posts missed connections, and then he goes and drops this kind of money!] [Man, you took this so blurry nobody can see her face.] Beckett: [You want to see her face too?

She's my missed connection. Kill whatever thought you're having.] [Stop, stop, stop.

All I'm saying is, it's so blurry nobody can help you find her.] Beckett: [She's dressed too pretty to miss. Anyone who knows her will recognize her instantly.

The photo isn't for strangers to gawk at.] The comment section had nothing to say for a long time. Then somebody finally asked: [Are we sure she's a freshman?

I checked in a lot of them today and I don't think she was one of mine.] [I think I saw her walking.

Wasn't she heading toward Building 9?] Beckett: [Yeah, I carried her bag for her. She was really polite to me and she smiled at me.] […Nobody asked.

But I think you've got the wrong idea about this.] [Building 9 is grad housing. Freshmen don't live there.

Which means she's at least three years older than you.] Beckett didn't answer for a while. Megan shook her head. "He probably gave up.

Beckett said once that he only likes the ones who look young and sweet." Another roommate looked at my face and couldn't help herself. "No wonder Beckett had you pegged for a freshman.

Angie, your face reads so young, and sweet, and pretty." "Right?

When you walked into the apartment I almost thought you'd come to the wrong place." So it was a misunderstanding after all. Beckett really didn't like anybody older than him.

I was about to close Perch when he finally replied to the thread. Beckett: [Already found her info. Taking the post down.] Somebody asked: [???

Thought you only dated girls younger than you?

Only the littlesister type??] Beckett: [Older women are suddenly very appealing… And if she'd rather be the one calling me big brother, I can work with that.] Everybody watching: [That is the fastest oneeighty I have ever seen.] Beckett said he'd found my information, but no message request from him ever came.

Then, a few days later, a friend pulled me onto a research competition team. Before the competition opened, we all had to meet in person to divide up the work.

When I got to the classroom, Beckett was there. He saw me come in and smiled at me from across the room.

My friend explained, "Beckett's only a sophomore, but he's done a ton of projects. He wants in with the grad group so he can go for the bigger award." A perfect reason.

There wasn't much I could ask after that. By the time we finished, it was evening.

Our team lead said, "We're all here, so let's grab dinner and get to know each other." Beckett was the first one to agree, and he said it looking at me. "Sounds good.

It's on me." Everybody knew Beckett spent freely and never worried about money. The second they heard he was paying, it was settled.

Chapter 4 My friend grabbed my arm, delighted. "Come on, Angie. Word is Beckett never picks anywhere under two hundred a head. Free food is free food." I nodded and went along.

When we got to the private room, one of the friends Beckett had brought took one look at the menu and yelped. "This is six hundred a person, minimum!

Beck, you have never taken me anywhere this expensive." Beckett ordered for the whole table like he'd done it a hundred times, then looked over at me. "As long as everybody enjoys it." That was the moment I knew for certain.

Beckett was pursuing me. I didn't quite know what to do with that.

If he ever found out I was the person he'd been dragged out to meet, his face would go flat and he'd hate me all over again, wouldn't he? I looked away and kept my eyes off him.

Halfway through dinner I ordered myself a drink, and then a couple more. The air in the room was starting to feel close, and right then Dalton called.

I took the chance to get up and stepped outside to answer. His voice was low. "Baby, you haven't talked to me all day." "It's loud over there.

Where are you?" I stood by the window, working the alcohol out of my system, and told him the truth. "At a team dinner. I just had a couple of drinks." He wasn't happy about it.

He told me a few things to be careful about and made me promise to let him know when I got home. I was used to him keeping tabs on me like that, so I said yes.

We were still talking when Beckett's voice came from behind me. "Why aren't you coming back in?" Dalton hadn't heard him.

He kept at me, cheerfully oblivious. "Will you call me big brother?" I didn't have time to hang up. I clapped my hand over the speaker, but his voice had already gotten out.

The second it landed, Beckett's eyes snapped up. "Who are you on the phone with?" I