Yeah, she is. “No argument here.”

He drags his feet as we approach my locker. “I w-w-was thinking. Since you’re not going t-t-to the danc-c-ce, and I’m not going, maybe we c-c-can hang out? W-w-watch a movie or s-s-something.”

I spin the dial to my combination and ponder his question.

Usually I’d have no problem hanging out with Liam, but I really don’t want to see Jace getting ready for his big date with Britney.

Or worse, see him after their date.

“I don’t know. It’s nothing against you, I just don’t want to be around your brother.” I take a few books out of my locker and toss them in my bag. “But don’t let our feud stop you from going.”

If anyone deserves to have some fun, it’s Liam. Between the accident, losing his mom, and constantly being picked on for his stutter and scars—the kid can’t seem to catch a break.

“I d-d-don’t have anyone t-t-to go w-w-with.” His face lights up like a Christmas tree. “W-w-what if w-w-we go t-t-together?”

My apprehension must be written all over my face, because he looks down at his shoes and says, “Forget it. That w-w-was s-s-stupid. Of c-c-course you don’t—”

“Sure,” I interject.

I might hate his brother currently, but it’s not Liam’s fault.

Besides, going to the dance with him is better than sitting home on a Friday night watching Friends reruns with a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream in one hand and a remote in the other.

His eyes widen. “R-r-really? You’ll go w-w-with me?”

“Why not?” I slam my locker shut. “We’re friends, right? Friends can go to dances together.”

A huge grin is plastered on his face when I look up at him. “Yeah.” His expression falters for a second. “W-w-we don’t have to t-t-talk to Jac-c-ce if you don’t w-w-want to.”

“Sounds good to me.” I reach over and give him a pound. “It’s a date.”

Chapter 18

Dylan

I’m going to die in this closet.

They’re going to find my body bound to a storage shelf by a pair of white cotton panties, while my equally plain, boring bra is on full display.

And let’s not forget the mascara streaks staining my cheeks thanks to Jace—the royal asshole—Covington.

I blow out a breath, attempting once more to unknot the undies holding me hostage. No dice.

Whoever discovers me will probably think my assailant took off due to my spectacular taste in comfortable, but lackluster underwear.

My only options are to either scream my lungs out and hope some poor soul walking by hears me, or wait for someone to notice my absence and start a search party.

In which case it will be at least another twenty-four hours because the only person who will realize or care that I’m gone is my aunt Crystal, and by then school will be closed for the night.

My only hope is Sawyer.

However, we don’t know one another well enough yet so she’ll probably assume I went home.

My stomach sinks. Option A is not just my last resort, it’s my only resort.

I gulp down as much air as my lungs can take, then I open my mouth and yell, “Help.” So loud I’m surprised my vocal cords don’t shred.

If I’m lucky, it will be a teacher who finds me and not a student.

“Hel—”

The doorknob turns, and my hero pops their head through the crack.

Or not.

“Dylan?” Oakley’s eyes—make that eye—because the other one is swollen shut, widen. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

He says it like I’m inconveniencing him by being tied up.

His brows furrow. “Why are you standing there in your bra?”

I glare at him. “Oh, you know. Just working on my suntan.”

Puzzled, he looks around the dim confines. “Really?”

“No, you imbecile,” I screech as he walks in.

He swiftly closes the door behind him. “Keep your voice down. There are people coming down the hallway.”

And yet, none of them were selected by whatever higher power is currently shitting on me to open my storage closet of doom and unleash me from this hell.

No, that would be too easy. Instead, I get stuck with this knucklehead.

This has got to be some kind of sick joke. Actually, with the way things are going, I wouldn’t rule it out.

“Let me guess, Jace sent you in here so you can really drive the cousin-fucking rumors home and ruin my life even more.”

He scratches the back of his head. “Look, I’m gonna need you to calm down and put the Jace shit on the back burner for a bit. We have more important stuff to worry about.”

It’s the most intelligent thing he’s ever uttered.

He walks over to me. “My dad and your aunt are on their way up to the school.”

“They are? Why?”

This time, it’s him who looks at me like I’m high as he points to his face. “Because you made chopped meat out of my pretty mug in front of everyone and then took off to go have nakie time in a storage closet.”

He can’t be serious. “Wait. Are you suggesting I did this to myself…on purpose?”

He holds up his hands. “Some people are into the exhibitionist and BDSM lifestyle.” He wags a finger at me. “But I’m gonna need you to partake in your kinky shit on your own time. We have less than ten minutes to pull it together and come up with a story before the parental units come through.”

“I’m not…that’s not… I didn’t strip and tie myself up.”

“Whatever.” Rubbing his chin, he assesses me. “So what exactly am I working with here? What’s your bondage of choice?”

“I don’t have a bondage of choice. Jace tied me up with…” My cheeks heat and I swallow hard. “On second thought, does it really matter? Just get me out of here.”

I want to punch him when he starts whistling. “Damn, he really went the extra mile. This knot is tighter than a motherfucker.” He makes a face. “Are you sweating? The fabric is kind of—”

“Oh my God, shut up.” I kick his shin. “Just stop talking.”

“All right. Jesus.” He gives the fabric a forceful jerk, freeing my wrists. “Don’t get your panties in a—never mind. Too late for that.”

I snatch them from him. “Turn around.”

Remarkably, he does as I ask. “Relax, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Although if you want my honest advice, you’d benefit from a trip, or five, to Victoria’s Secret.”

I tug them on and rub my chafed wrists. “I’m good, thanks.”

He stops me when I head for the door. “Not so fast. We still have to figure out what we’re going to tell them.”

“Tell who?”

“My dad and your aunt.”

“I don’t know, but the truth sounds like a pretty good start.”

He rushes over when I turn the knob. “Woah, hold on. Let’s not do anything crazy.”

He must be higher than usual. “You really expect me to lie to them for you after all you’ve done?”