Right here? Oh, perfect. Because that wasn’t mortifying at all.

“Go away,” I replied, my voice echoing in the cramped bathroom stall. “Seriously. Just leave.”

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. He sounded maddeningly cheerful. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t crawl out the window in embarrassment.”

I glared at the stall door, wishing I could set him on fire with sheer willpower. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed.

I finished what I had to do, stuffed the crinkly package into the back pocket of my jeans, and tried to summon whatever shreds of pride I had left.

The truth was, I was stalling. Not because I needed more time, but because I had no idea how to face him. Blake had been ignoring me for months, barely sparing me a glance, but the moment I needed him—really needed him—he was there. Without hesitation.

And that just made me more confused.

Once I’d composed myself, I opened the stall door.

And nearly died on the spot.

Blake stood there, his hoodie now missing, bare chest on full display. My brain short-circuited for a solid five seconds. His jeans hung low on his hips, and under the harsh fluorescent lighting, his skin was smooth in a way that was frankly unfair.

My eyes widened as I stared at him, words failing me completely.

“What—what are you doing?” I managed to choke out.

He raised an eyebrow as if it was obvious, his hoodie dangling from one hand. “Well, you’ve got a pad now, but you don’t have fresh jeans.” He held up the hoodie, eyes softening. “I don’t have a spare in my locker, so you’ll have to take this.”

Before I could argue, he crouched slightly and wrapped it around my waist, knotting the sleeves in front. His fingers brushed my hip and lingered for a moment, and my heart did something that made it increasingly hard to breathe—something deeply inconvenient.

I blinked up at him, my throat suddenly dry. “You can’t walk around like that. You can’t walk through school half-naked.”

“I’m heading home,” he said, unfazed, taking a step back. “And so are you. Let’s go.”

But I didn’t move.

I just stared at him, hoodie tied around my waist, heart racing for all the wrong reasons. All the emotions from the past few months clawed their way to the surface. He had spent weeks pretending I didn’t exist, leaving me to wonder what I’d done wrong, and now, just like that, he was acting like things were fine? Like we were fine? No.

I folded my arms, my voice sharp. “So, that’s it?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You ignore me for months, and now that you’ve played hero, everything just goes back to normal?”

He exhaled, shifting on his feet. “We should⁠—”