My stomach aches at the thought of Dempsey being upset with me. I had no idea Adley was going to show up—I didn’t even post on social saying I was at The Oak tonight. But there are only so many places to be on a Saturday night in a small town.

I drop his hand and make a show of putting my hair into a messy bun. He makes no move to reclaim it once I’m done.

Okay then.

If he wants to play it this way, I can do cold and disconnected, too.

If he’s going to call this off, I want to get it over with. It’ll be easier to make a clean break now than play games over the next few days or weeks as things fizzle out.

“Am I correct in assuming that secret sleepovers are actually not a thing after all?” I go for casual, refusing to let my voice waver. But I dodge his gaze in case the truth of my hurt is written all over my face.

He sighs one of those long, cheeks-puffed-out Dempsey sighs before glancing down at me and replying. “Look, princess. There’s no way my brother’s not going to find out about tonight. It’s just a matter of time. I need to be home when he—”

“I get it,” I interrupt. “It was fun while it lasted, right?” I cock my eyebrow and give him a quick up and down, because damn. It was more than fun, and I really don’t want to give him up.

We cross the street toward the back parking lot. I click my key fob, and when my Lexus beeps and illuminates, I freeze.

He must see it, too, because he stops beside me and reaches for my hand.

“You didn’t have plans to meet up with someone else tonight, did you?”

His question is in jest, and we both know it. I sass back anyway.

“I thought you were a sure thing, Haas. I didn’t have a plan B.”

“That’s what I thought…” he mutters as we walk through the lot, his body shielding me from the figure leaning up against my car.

Hunched over posture. Menacing vibe. It’s the baseball hat covering half his face that really gives him away.

“Get lost, Adley,” I call out once we’re within earshot.

He straightens up and raps his hand on the hood of my car.

“I thought this was you, Wheeler. You gonna make this easy and drive me to yours, or is this a game where I have to follow you home and chase you down?”

I don’t have time to react before Dempsey’s charging the car, pinning Andrew to the passenger door with one hand, and wailing on his face with the other.

“What. Part. Of. NO. Don’t. You. Under. Stand?” He punctuates every syllable with a jab.