The speed at which she snatched it from me and shoved it into her bag made me grin. She looked over her shoulder, her breathing rapid. “Can I go now?”
“I didn’t think I was stopping you.”
Her mouth opened, and she shut it with a snap. “Dante, I’ll see you next week.”
“I can’t wait, Sav.”
She hesitated, no doubt to tell me not to call her ‘Sav’ again, but instead, she clenched her fists, dipped her head, and turned away.
Whatwasshe hiding in that shed? I was almost tempted to break into it and see. But we had a truce. She would keep my secret, I would keep hers.
I chuckled when I saw her look over her shoulder to make sure I wasn’t following her. I gave her a casual wave, and she flipped me the finger in return.
Savannah might be more fun than I first thought. It seemed the dean’s daughter wasn’t as untouchable as she appeared.
Instead, she might be the only thing I wanted to touch.
Chapter 7
Savannah
I closed the shed door and leaned against it, heart still thudding.
What in the heck wasthat?
No, I knew exactly what that was — Dante Freaking Spence. At what point had I forgotten he was an athlete? I’m not saying he was a rocket scientist, but he wasn’t a schmuck either.
His whole career depended on reading people, on spotting weaknesses before they even saw him coming. And I... I’d just gift wrapped my biggest one by panicking and snatching my chisel off him.
God, I was stupid.
Ofcoursehe’d followed me. He’d heard me in the hallway, probably put two and two together, and then —perfect— trailed me straight to the one place I never wanted him to see.
“Damn it, Savvy,” I muttered, crossing the room to my workbench. “You might as well have handed him your ass on a plate and said, ‘Go ahead, take a bite.’”
I dropped onto my stool, buried my face in my hands, and groaned. Now he knew. Or at least, he knew enough to make my life interesting... and not in a good way.
I slouched forward, elbows on my knees, staring at the half-finished piece on my workbench without really seeing it. A sheet of stained glass leaned against the wall, half cut and waiting for solder. Next to it, the copper-and-steel project I’d been working on for weeks glinted under the low light, edges sharp, unforgiving.
What had he actually seen? Just me, in here, surrounded by metal, glass, and the mess I kept hidden from everyone else. The Savvy my father didn’t know existed. The one who wasn’t polished, composed, and on schedule.
I had to stop panicking. I needed to breathe. I took a few deep breaths, in for four, hold for four, out for four. I repeated it until my pulse quieted. I needed to think about this.
Dante didn’t have the whole picture. He might think he did — he struck me as the kind of guy who thought he was always two steps ahead — but I’d heardsomethingtoo.
I straightened slowly, the tang of solder in the air grounding me.
I’d heard the edge in his voice. I’d been too flustered earlier to think straight, buthe wanted meto keep quiet.
“Why?” I asked as I slowly stood. “What are you hiding, QB10?” I began to pace, chewing on the edge of my thumbnail. My mind replayed last night’s clipped conversation.
What had he said? He’d only sent twelve? What was sent? And then that comment about the insider tip.Whatinsider tip? I walked back and forth. What would he need more than twelve of? What tip? And why did he sound like heresenteddoing it?
I’d sneaked a peek at his college application. It was something I had access to; I wasn’t entirely sure I was supposed to have it. I think it might have been an oversight on my level of access through the Academic Administration program, but I never spoke up to be told otherwise.
He came from a single-parent family; his mom was a nurse, and he had one older sister. They lived in a medium-sized town in Ohio, with no red flags or anything else to suggest Wrighton’s number one football star was shady.
But he was up to something.
