I Dated Twin Guys As Their Online Experiment, But I Had My Own Plan Chapter 04

I Dated Twin Guys As Their Online Experiment, But I Had My Own Plan Chapter 04

Their reactions were a masterpiece.

Ethan’s lighter clattered onto the table. Evan’s hand froze mid-air with his water glass. Vivian’s smile fossilized on her face.

The comments short-circuited for a few seconds and then detonated.

[Wait, what?]

[Hold on, what did the side character just say?]

[She was doing it for a project too? No freaking way.]

I ignored the scrolling text and pulled out my phone, opening my photo gallery. I pulled up my research log and turned the screen so they could see, and slid it to the center of the table where all four of us could read it.

“The Impact of Romantic Relationships on Individual Emotional Fluctuation—Project Research Log.”

I read the title aloud, then looked up at Vivian. “Is yours the same topic?”

Vivian’s lashes quivered. She didn’t answer.

“Funny coincidence.” I let my mouth curve. “I’m in that course, too.”

Ethan was the first to recover. “You mean, you and us—you were—”

“Yes.” I didn’t flinch. “I was collecting data for my own project. You three just happened to be a convenient sample group.”

Silence swallowed the comments for a beat before they exploded again.

[What is happening right now? I thought the side character was a lovesick pushover!]

[Holy plot twist.]

[So both male leads chased the side character for the female lead’s project, and the side character was only using them for her project this entire time?]

[Wait, is this just a matchup of who’s screwing who over?]

Ethan’s fingers tapped twice on the table. The way he looked at me shifted—not careless anymore, but sharp and assessing.

“So all those ‘I miss you’ messages. ‘Why are you ignoring me today.’ ‘I waited forever for you to reply.’”

“All part of the data log.” I finished the sentence for him. “I logged every emotional shift the same night it happened.”

I tapped the screen. “Including my heart rate when you replied instantly, and my anxiety index when you ghosted me.”

Evan finally spoke, his voice lower than his brother’s. “So you didn’t care whether I replied or not?”

“I cared.” I corrected him. “I needed the data. When you didn’t reply, it threw off my research timeline. That’s all it was.”

I kept my voice light, but something twisted deep in my chest.

I did care. There are a lot of ways to care. Caring for academic reasons is still caring. But I wasn’t going to let them see that.

Vivian’s face went sour. She bit her lip, fingers clenching and unclenching on the tabletop.

“Nora, you lied to them.”

“Lied to them?” My gaze swept between her and the twins. “You lied to me, too. Everyone here was using each other. We’re even.”

[Okay, this is a top-tier plot twist.]

[The side character just gave me full-body chills.]

[She’s not acting. She’s been running a field study on her own emotions. That’s cold.]

[But honestly, she’s way more composed than the female lead. Look at Vivian’s face.]

I pulled up my DM with Evan Sullivan while they watched, held down the conversation, and hit “Block.”

“Did you just block me?” Ethan’s voice came out tight.

“I blocked the Evan Sullivan account,” I said. “You both used the same name. No reason to keep it around.”

I tucked my phone away, grabbed my bag, and stood up. “We’re done here. Don’t contact me again.”

I gave them a small nod, turned, and walked.

“Nora.”

It was Evan’s voice. Low. Controlled.

I paused but didn’t look back.

“When you said you liked me before—was that a lie, too?”

The question landed unexpectedly. I thought about it for a moment, then tilted my head just enough to show him half my profile. “What do you think?”

I didn’t wait. I pushed through the restaurant door and stepped into the sunlight.

I kept walking until I was sure they couldn’t see me anymore, then I finally slowed. The breeze caught the hem of my dress. I stopped, tilted my face up, and shut my eyes.

My heart was still beating too fast. It wasn’t an act. It was genuinely racing.

One hundred twelve beats per minute the day I asked him out—almost forty above my resting rate.

Ninety-eight the first time I got a “goodnight baby” message.

Eighty-seven the first time he vanished and left five messages on read. My heart rate wasn’t that high, but my blood pressure spiked.

I logged every single metric. I didn’t miss a single entry.

But there were things I didn’t log. Like the fact that the feelings were real. At least at the start, they were real.

It was only after things started feeling off that I buried myself behind the excuse of “academic necessity.”

I pretended every message I sent was for the data. I pretended every anxious wait was about preserving the integrity of the experiment. I pretended I never genuinely fell for someone I’d never even met.

I opened my eyes, took a deep breath, and started walking back toward campus.

Whatever. I had enough data. The paper wouldn’t be hard to write.

As for everything else, it was supposed to end here anyway.