“Like break in again? Want double blackmail on me?”
“I never blackmailed you, Buttercup, not that I didn’t try.” He lets out a low chuckle, and I elbow him in the side. “I’m not a snitch. I was poking at you to get your attention.”
“Oh my God, like a boy on the playground pulling a girl’s pigtail.”
“I’d never pull out this hair.” He tugs on a piece of mine. I have noticed that anytime we kiss, his fingers are always in my hair. “Also, we don’t have to break in.” He pulls out a key.
“You sneaky bastard.” I smile, surprised he’s actually helping me. It hits me—he’s doing this for me. Luke isn’t the type to help someone without a reason.
“Perks of my brother being the dean.” He leads us to the coach’s office. Luckily, it’s empty outside. Luke opens the door fast, and we slip inside.
Coach Murphy’s office smells like peppermint and stale coffee, the kind of scent that lingers. Luke closes the door behind us, the clicking sound as soft as a secret.
“Let’s search,” he says. “Before anyone sees us.”
I start with the desk, opening drawers filled with schedules and attendance sheets but nothing useful. I snap a few photos of the pages, just in case.
Luke checks the filing cabinet, then moves to the small closet. My fingers find an edge under the bottom drawer—a board that moves when I press the corner. It lifts up, revealing a hollow space about the size of a shoebox.
A leather journal sits inside, dark red and worn at the edges.
“Jackpot.” Luke looks over and sees the journal in my hand.
“Nice.” I don’t read it. I shove it into my bag, zipping it up just as the door opens. My stomach drops to the floor.
Bennett stands in the doorway, his tie loose, eyes moving from Luke to me to the half-open drawer I quickly kick shut.Nice move, Madeline.
“Well,” he says. “This is interesting.”
“We were worried,” I say quickly. “About Coach Murphy. Thought maybe there was a clue.”
“Clue.” Bennett’s mouth twitches. “You two are quite the detectives.”
Luke steps closer, not touching me but present. “Any news? When are they going to tell people she’s missing?”
Bennett studies us both, something calculating behind his glasses. “Police have leads. They’re handling it.” A pause. “Which means you don’t have to. Go home. Let the professionals work.”
“Sure,” Luke says. “We’re leaving.”
Bennett steps back out of our way so that we can pass by. “We didn’t find anything in here.” He gives us that much. “And we need to speak tonight.” He says so to Luke, who only gives him anod. Their interactions are very curt, and I can’t help but wonder what the backstory is between them.
Luke and I don’t speak until we’re past the athletic building, the dorms visible through trees that are still clinging to their leaves.
Luke stops at the foot of one of the benches, a squirrel darting past us.
I look up at him. The bruise on his cheek is already getting darker. He hit his teammate because of me, and when I realized that, it felt like the ground shifted under me.
Letting people in isn’t easy for me. But when I do, I’m all in. That’s why I keep most people at an arm’s length. When I care, there’s no safety net and no way to go back. Luke feels like someone who could really hurt me.
He doesn’t move. A solid, steady force. Neither do I. We stand there, the silence between us louder than the wind in the trees. I know that whatever happens next, I might already be in too deep to stop it, but I have to try.
Chapter Twenty-Two
LUKE
Ipace the common room, three steps to the window and three steps back. Grant lounges on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, watching me with that smirk I want to punch off his face.
“You’re wearing a hole in the carpet, Romeo.”
