“So,” Seth says finally. “Pete called you about the chaperone thing.”
“So you know about it?” I sigh.
His jaw tightens. “My father wants someone to keep us out of trouble. Like we’re children who can’t control ourselves.”
“To be fair, you did get arrested.”
“Yeah, the jury’s still out on that.”
“I know.” I meet his eyes.
Something shifts in his expression.
“What actually happened that night? At the Spur? You keep saying you weren’t drinking, but you were acting like…”
“Like I was wasted.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. Last thing I remember clearly is ordering a cola. Place was packed, people everywhere, guys wanting to shake my hand, women trying to sit in my lap. Then nothing.”
“Someone might have drugged you.”
“That’s what I think. And when I find out who, they’re going to regret it. And I’m going to clear my name.”
I think about that night. The way he could barely stand. The singing. “I believe you,” I tell him.
Something in his expression softens. “Yeah?”
“You were definitely out of it, but not drunk-drunk. It was different. Like something had hijacked your system.”
“That’s exactly what it felt like.” He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. Just a touch. Just a moment of contact. “Thank you for believing me.”
Then he tilts his head, gaze cutting over my face. “You’re nervous.”
“I’m not.”
He gives a short, amused exhale. “You are. But it’s not about what I’m saying.”
Heat crawls up my neck because he’s right and he knows it.
I can smell him every time he shifts, clean and warm, with a sharpness underneath that calls to me. I shouldn’t be thinking about it or noticing how his scent changes when he’s amused.
If I end up living with them, it’s going to be everywhere. In the halls. On the furniture. In my sheets if I’m not careful. And my control isn’t made for that.
Seth’s mouth twitches like he can read the direction of my thoughts. “You keep doing that.”
“What’s that?” I ask, too fast.
“Looking at me like you’re trying to decide if I’m going to bite.” His gaze glides down, slowly, to my mouth and back up. “I might. Depends how you behave.”
My breath catches, traitorous. “Is that a threat?”
His smile sharpens. “That’s a promise I haven’t decided to keep yet.”
I swallow.
“Mm.” He leans forward just a little, forearms on the table, closing the distance without touching me.
My fingers tighten around my cup.
His gaze holds mine, intent and almost lazy. “You’re right about one thing. If somebody did that to me, if somebodymessed with my head…” His voice dips, and the fun drains out of it. “I’m not letting it go.”
