I hazard a quick glance at Dex. His eyes are on me, mouth sideways again, like he’s not completely believing my story. And he’s not completely wrong. There’s a lot more going on here.
I’m just not sure exactly what.
“Need help with your bags?” I ask, because that’s what I would’ve offered if Ihadn’tjust been caught holding Loren.
“Nah, I’m good, man.” He drifts to Sayla’s side and throws an arm around her. And I won’t lie. My guts ache a little.
“Just get Loren home safe,” Sayla says. “But make sure she’s fed first.”
“Absolutely.”
“And watered,” she insists.
“Gotcha.”
“You promise? Because our little friend here can be a wily one, claiming she’s fine, when she’s?—”
“Helloooo, I’m right here.” Loren sticks a hand up like she’s one of our students waiting to be called on. “Also, I’m not a houseplant.”
“If you were, you’d be the prettiest one in all the land.” Sayla bends down to give Loren a hug. “You really are the best, best, best,” she coos directly into her ear. “Text me when you’re home. Okay?”
“And say hi to my coffee table for me,” Dex adds with a grin.
Sayla socks him in the arm.
On the way to my car, I resist the urge to put my hand on the small of Loren’s back. The evening is still warm, and the scent of something sugary wafts between us. Probably from the donut she barely ate. I open the passenger door, then wait until she’s buckled before circling around to the driver's seat.
“So, Hickory Grill for dinner?” I toss out, as I slide in beside her. The suggestion is inane, given the elephant in the car with us. And yet I keep going. “A burger and fries should hit the spot. We could call in an order.”
“First things first.” Loren turns to face me. Full body contortion in her seatbelt. “Who are you really?”
I reach for a handshake, like this is some kind of ice breaker. “Bridger Jefferson Adams. Nice to meet you.”
“Wrong answer.” She pushes my hand away, not like she’s angry, more like she’s confused. Or possibly hurt. Which would be the worst-case scenario.
I’d rather amputate a limb than hurt her.
“MyfriendBridger Adams teaches science at Stony Peak High,” she says. “He has a one-bedroom place across town. He buys apple cider donuts, and he fixes smoke detectors and functions on a teacher’s salary like the rest of us.”
Friend.Right.
Cue the old stabbing behind my ribs again. Right on time. Because I needed a reminder of exactly what zone I’m in when it comes to Loren Cane.
“All true,” I force out.
“So please explain how you just casually funded a seven-figure rebuild of half the school last fall.”
I glance back at the house. “If we stay parked out here for too long, Sayla and Dex will see us and get curious.” I move to start the car.
“Fine. But just pull around the corner. We need to keep talking face-to-face. Total eye contact. No staring at the road while you drive.”
“Sure, boss.”
While I find us a new place to park, one block up and over, Loren stays focused on me. I can practically feel her gaze boring a hole in my temple. I cut the engine under a maple tree and turn toward her again.
“Commence firing squad,” I say.
“Okay.” She narrows her eyes. “What kind of big shot are you, anyway? Finance? Royalty? Mafia?”