The second Lara’s screen lit up with the image, her jaw dropped.
“Oh my God—” she gasped, slamming the phone against her chest like it had burned her.
Her eyes widened in mild panic. Her face flushed all the way to her ears.
She threw a frantic glance around the living room.
Her parents were still engrossed in the movie, eyes glued to the screen. Her kuya Levi was slouched on the single couch across from her, eyes glued to his phone. None of them noticed her little crisis.
Thank God.
Once she was sure no one was paying attention, she slowly peeled the phone away from her chest and looked again.
Yup. She wasn’t hallucinating.
There it was.
Reagan’s mirror selfie. Shirtless.
Her lips parted slightly.
“You’ve got to be kidding me...” she muttered under her breath.
Her phone buzzed and another message slid in, casually if she might say so.
Reagan: Currently working out.
She just stared at the screen like it had offended her. Or maybe blessed her. She wasn’t quite sure yet.
Her thumb hov
