“You don’t understand.” The door started to open and she stopped short, turning, like maybe they should run back upstairs.

God, it was like being dragged by a panicked bird. Gabriel almost ran into her. One hand caught the banister, and he grabbed Layne around the waist to keep from knocking her down the stairs.

And that’s exactly how her father found them.

If Layne hadn’t told Gabriel that her dad was a lawyer, he would have guessed. The guy could have played one on television, what with the long camel coat over a black suit, the dark hair threaded with gray, the calculating eyes and angled jawline.

Eyes that narrowed on seeing them.

Gabriel let go of Layne and straightened. Nick was way better at doing the parent thing, and this guy didn’t look like the kind of dad to ignore their predicament, crack open a beer, and ask how Gabriel felt about the Ravens’ defensive line.

Layne’s face was bright red. “Dad. Look. It’s not—”

“Not what I think?” Her dad had a handful of mail that he tossed on the hall table. Those eyes leveled on Gabriel. “I certainly hope not.”

Gabriel stared back at him. “We were studying.”

“Studying. Really.” Mr. Forrest glanced around. “Here on the staircase? And where are your books?”

“Don’t talk,” whispered Layne.

“In the kitchen,” said Gabriel. With his keys. The only thing keeping him trapped here was twenty feet of white carpeting, blocked by her father.

“Yet you were upstairs.” Her father still hadn’t broken eye contact. “Taking the tour, I assume?”

Gabriel smiled, though it wasn’t really funny. “Actually, yeah.”

“Shut up,” hissed Layne.

Her dad’s eyes narrowed. “How old are you?”

Gabriel already didn’t like this guy. He gritted his teeth and wondered if he could shove past him. “Seventeen.”

“Do you know what the age of consent is?”

“Dad! Oh my god.” Layne took a step forward. Her face was even redder. “We weren’t doing anything!”

“I asked you a question, son.”

“I’m not your son.” Now Gabriel just wanted to shove him, period. He stepped into the foyer, feeling his shoulders tighten. “And I didn’t know there was an age of consent for standing in a hallway.”

“Don’t get smart with me, kid.”

“Stop it,” said Layne, putting her hands up like they were going to take a swing at each other. “Look, it’s a misunderstanding—”

“Layne.” Mr. Forrest didn’t even glance at her. “Get his things. Right now.”

“I can get my things,” said Gabriel.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Layne was caught between them, flustered. She was nearly wringing her hands. “Dad, it’s not—”

His eyes cut right. “Now, Layne.”

She swallowed and slinked past him into the living room.

“Don’t forget my box of condoms,” called Gabriel.

Now her dad looked like he wished he had a shotgun. “If I find out you laid a hand on my daughter—”

“What?” said Gabriel. “You’ll stand here and bitch about it?”

“Stop it!” cried Layne, dragging his coat and backpack from the kitchen.