Sophomore.
Boone shakes his head. “Not everyone needs college. Besides, you’re never supposed to judge yourself by outliers. That’s whatmy dad always said, and he’s the smartest man I know. And he doesn’t have a degree either.”
There’s a quiet confidence to his words, and I find myself believing him.
Except…
“What happens, though, if you’re from a family of outliers?” I ask, rubbing my wrists, the echo of his cuffs ghosting the delicate skin. “What if they lie about important things to protect you because they don’t believe in you?”
“The presence of outliers and liars doesn’t meanyou’rea dumbass.”
“Even though I just let myself get roophied?”
He turns to me, his features sharp.
Sexy.
“You didn’tletyourself get fucking roophied,” he insists, jamming the Start button. “You can’t always know when some dickwad has his sights on you.” The engine roars to life and he yanks on his seat belt, then hits the blinker. “Is there any way you can find out what he gave you?”
I pull up my phone and send Pierce one last text.
Me: What was in that flask? I only had maybe two sips before I got completely wasted.
Pierce: Nothing. You just can’t hold your liquor.
I show Boone his response, and Boone curses as he pulls onto the empty street. “What a dick.”
Only then do the consequences of what could’ve happened finally filter through my addled mind, and suddenly, I feel really fucking lonely.
“Shit. He wasn’t looking to take no for an answer,” I mumble.
“No, he wasn’t.” Boone glares out the windshield. “Based on his history, he likes to remove ‘no’ from the conversation entirely.”
We make the rest of the trip in silence. Sobering quickly, I wonder how it is that I found myself in the company of two predators—plus my future husband—all in the same twenty-four hours.
As Boone pulls up to the building, my twin is standing on the sidewalk, looking every bit the special ops agent. I curse, realizing that I forgot to respond to his texts or even tell him I’d come back early.
Whatever. I’m still mad at him for the whole Truett-kidnappy-secret family business thing.
Holmes sees my car and his hand goes to his chest, relief marking his handsome—if I do say so myself—features.
It doesn’t surprise me that he’s waiting for me. I am surprised, however, to see that he’s accompanied by one of my favorite people in the world.
Uncle Hopper, who has never once lied to me.
I roll down the window. “Hop, Hoppy, Hopperrrrr!”
Boone straightens beside me and follows my line of sight. “Your uncle is here?”
“Yesss! Come say hiiii!” I open the door and tumble out onto the sidewalk.
“Is that Boone?” Hopper asks as Holmes rushes over to pick me up off the very rude concrete.
“Boo-neee,” I correct, enunciating very clearly.
Boone gets out of the car and has a hastily whispered conversation with Holmes and Uncle Hopper.
“…you should know that… Pretty sure he’s okay…”
