“Your mother tells me you still haven’t picked a major. With such a huge opportunity, I’m sure this would help your decision.”
“You flew here for this?” I ask flatly.
“I flew here for you,” he replies, ready to onboard me right here.
I raise my hand, not wanting to hear any more from him. “I’m not interested,” I say, turning on my heel. My spine straightens with every step. It feels good to walk away from him. For once.
“Hunniford.”
I keep walking.
“There’s something else,” he calls. “Something you won’t be able to say no to.”
I pause. Damn it. Curiosity has got the better of me.
“If it’s a pony, I’m not interested. You have five and won’t let me see one.”
“I’ll throw in visitation,” he says smoothly. “But this is something else. Something I know matters more to you.”
I turn slowly, narrowing my eyes.
He won’t plead. He’ll manipulate. He always does. That smug, knowing smile creeps onto his lips and makes my stomach flip in the worst possible way.
“I’ll give you five minutes,” I say, raising a hand. “That doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to anything, but if it’ll stop you from blowing up my phone, go ahead.”
He smiles like he’s already won, and I know, with every sharp edge of instinct in my body, that I’m about to make a deal with the devil.
Mike:Did you see Hailey?
I pause as I read my friend’s message. Then I look over my shoulder, making sure no one can see it before I dare to write back.
Zach:Yeah, just after practice.
Mike:Honey hasn’t found out?
Zach:Nope, and it’s going to stay that way.
Mike:I don’t like this.
Zach:Don’t like what?
Mike:Keeping secrets. Not just from Honey, but from my own wife. Olivia will kill me if she finds out I knew about this and didn’t tell her.
Zach:That’s why she’s not going to find out. It’s fine. No one needs to know anyway.
Mike: Whatever you say, man. Just don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.
I pocket my phone with a grimace. Mike’s being dramatic. It’s notthatbad.
I take a step toward the house and stop short when I spot a girl with her face pressed against my front window.
“Can I help you?” I ask loud enough to make her jump.
Honestly, what the fuck is she doing?
The girl spins around, her blond ponytail nearly whipping her in the face from the move. In St. Michael’s green, she’s clutching a football to her chest like it holds her last shred of dignity.
Great. Another fangirl trespassing because she thinks I’m public property.