I fucking hate her annoying ability to insult me and make me want to laugh at the same time.

“Not even a little.”

She tucks her blouse into her skirt. “I don’t want to fight.”

“Then stop being an asshole.”

Her mouth drops open. “Did you just call me an asshole?”

“I’m sorry.” I flash her some teeth. “I meant—comfortable asshole.”

And then it happens…she starts laughing.

And her laughter is so contagious…I can’t help but join her.

I’m so fucked.

Chapter 41

Sawyer

“I told him it was comfortable,” I whisper into my phone.

The game starts in twenty minutes, so I’m hiding out in the chemistry lab closet talking to Dylan.

I’m really not in the mood to get an eyeful of peen again.

Unless it belongs to a certain quarterback.

“Oh my God,” Dylan exclaims. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

She starts laughing hysterically. “To be a fly on that wall.”

“I don’t understand what the big deal is about telling him our hookup felt comfortable. Lots of things I like are comfortable. My favorite hoodie. My favorite pair of yoga pants. My favorite Nick Jonas t-shirt—”

“Whoa, you do realize you just compared Cole Covington to your favorite hoodie, yoga pants, and Nick Jonas, right?”

“What’s your point?”

“Sawyer, you like him. Hell, I think you might even love him.”

“I do not.”

“You so do.”

“Fine. There is a strong attraction. But that’s as much as I’m willing to admit right now.”

“Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me.” She groans. “I have to switch my laundry out before the game starts. See you on the field, Izzy. I’m really looking forward to watching you shake your tail feather. Especially now that I know it’s you.”

“Har, har, har. Very funny.”

“Love you.”

“Love you,” I say before I hang up.

Almost immediately, my phone vibrates with an incoming text.

Cole: You’re coming to the game tonight, right?

Crap.

Oakley promised Scott he wouldn’t tell anyone the truth because he doesn’t want to get replaced. Evidently, the kid has dreams of being a mascot for the big leagues one day, and he thinks not mascoting, or whatever it’s called, for the last games of the season will leave some kind of blemish on his permanent record.

Which means I can’t tell anyone I’m Izzy.

Not even Cole.

Which really sucks because tonight’s game is a big one.

Whoever wins will go on to play in the championship bowl.

I don’t want Cole to think I don’t support him.

Not to mention that as his girlfriend, it’s pretty much expected I attend his games.

Fortunately, I’ve figured out a plan.

As long as Cole doesn’t throw the winning touchdown and the Knights don’t score three minutes before the game ends like last time…I won’t have to go on the field and dance with the cheerleaders.

I can sneak away in time to change and then come back and act like I saw the whole game as Sawyer.

Cole will be happy I was there, and I’ll still be keeping my promise to a ninth grade boy with a bad case of mono.

I blow out a breath.

It’s tough having a secret identity. I’m starting to have a whole new appreciation for Superman.

I’m about to walk out, but the door opens.

“Stop ignoring me,” Bianca snaps.

I slink back into the lab closet.

“I’m not ignoring you,” Oakley says. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, busy with Morgan and Hayley.”

“Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve been busy with Hayley too.”

“Aw, are you jealous?” Bianca taunts. “Good. Maybe now you know how it feels.”

Oakley sighs. “I told you—”

“Shut up,” she hisses. “We’re still at school. Someone might overhear us.”

Yes, someone might. What the actual fuck is going on?

On second thought…I’m not so sure I want to know the answer.

“I’ll come over tonight after Cole goes to sleep,” she says. “We can talk then.”

Talk about what?

“No,” Oakley grunts. “There is nothing to talk about. Whatever you think is going on in your sick, twisted, fucked-up psycho little head is wrong.”

Jesus, Oak. A little harsh.

“You know what?” Bianca says. “You’re right. I’ll just make sure to tell my dad you’re selling drugs out of his guesthouse, and that one night you and his daughter—”

“I told you. That night was a mistake.”

Oh no. Bad Oakley. Bad.

First his stepmom. Now Bianca.

It’s like his dick has a preference for girls who are totally wrong for him.

Jace and Cole will literally kill him for this.

And that’s not even taking Dylan into account.

I feel faint.

I can’t breathe.

But mostly? I really wish I hid out in the library.

“But you—” Bianca tries to say, but Oakley cuts her off again.

“Get it through your thick skull, kid. I don’t want you. I will never want you, and I sure as hell will never fuck you. Doesn’t matter if you’re sixteen or one hundred and sixteen. As far as I’m concerned, you’re Satan in a dress. The only reason I tolerate you is because of your brothers.”

Wow, dude. I understand you need to end things, but could you be more of a dick?

“But—” Bianca starts to say.

“Go ahead and tell your daddy. Tell your brothers. Tell the fucking po-po I’m selling drugs for all I care. You can’t manipulate me into fucking you, because it ain’t never gonna happen.”

Well, damn.

“And the next time you crawl into my bed while I’m sleeping, I’m calling Morgan and letting her deal with you. Got it?”

Good Lord. Bianca went full-blown fatal attraction on his ass.

“You’re such an asshole,” Bianca chokes out.

Oh, man. Truth be told, I didn’t think the girl was capable of feeling emotions.

Well, other than anger and manipulation.

“Just so you know, the night I snuck into your guesthouse was the anniversary of Liam’s death. I went there looking for you because Jace was busy with Dylan, Cole never wants to talk about him, and my dad is never home.” Her voice cracks. “I miss him so much…but no one cares.” She draws in a shaky breath. “You were always so nice and understanding. And no matter what I told you, you never judged me for it. I thought I was safe with you, Oakley. Until that night.”

“I didn’t—”

“It doesn’t matter.” She clears her throat. “But since you’ve obviously forgotten. It was you who kissed me. Not the other way around.”

“I didn’t know—”

“Yeah, I know. You thought I was Hayley. Or Morgan. Or whatever bitch you thought you brought home while you were high off your ass that night. Sorry it was just the psycho kid sister of your friends who needed a shoulder to cry on so she wouldn’t drown herself in the fucking pool.”