“Hey, big brother.”
“So,” his voice has that careful tone that means he’s about to lecture me, “I just got off the phone with Sarah from Student Services.”
My stomach drops. “Oh?”
“She wanted to know if you were still interested in thecampus tour guide position. Said she’s been trying to reach you. You know she’s had to pull a few strings to secure it for you this late, Tar. The least you could do is let her know you’re taking it and when you’ll start.”
I take a large gulp of wine. “About that...”
“Tar, it’s perfect for you. You know campus like the back of your hand, and it’s easy money, and?—”
“I don’t need it. I got another job.” I cut him off. “At Luzia.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“The nightclub?” He sounds like I’ve told him I’m joining a strip club. As a performer. “Downtown?”
“It’s not only a nightclub,” I protest, stabbing at my pasta. “It’s really upscale. They have a strict dress code and fancy cocktails and?—”
“It’s dangerous is what it is. Do you know what kind of people?—”
“Rich people?” I interrupt, rolling my eyes. “Because that’s their clientele. Rich tourists and business types. Not exactly the criminal underworld, Troy.”
“Tara.” He sighs, and I can picture him pinching his eyebrows together. It’s the same gesture from a thousand memories—him waiting up when I missed curfew in high school, showing up with ice cream and revenge plans at 3 AM when Liam broke my heart.
That’s the thing about Troy. He’s been protecting me for so long, neither of us knows how to stop. Ever since Dad left, Troy stepped up to fill those empty spaces. But I’m not that little girl anymore, wearing his old hockey jerseys like dresses and following him around campus.
“Look, I’m leaving for camp tomorrow, so I won’t be around to check in. Just... be smart this summer, okay?”
I shrink into the couch cushions. He’ll be too busy teaching seven-year-olds how to kayak at Camp Pinehaven anyway. He needs to relax.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll be fine, it’ll be fun even. And great money.” But even as I say it, I think about Friday night. Things can spiral out of control quickly. About Alfie’s hands on me and all the secrets I’m already keeping. “I’m not a kid anymore, Troy. I can handle myself.”
My phone buzzes against my ear—another incoming message. I pull it away to check, expecting Alex, but my stomach drops to somewhere around my ankles. It’s an email from campus security.
“Regarding Incident at Geology Department - Urgent Meeting Required.”
“No, no, no.” I scramble upright, nearly knocking over my wine. “This isn’t happening.”
“Tara? What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got to go,” I manage, my voice tight. “Everything’s fine. I gotta go. Talk later?”
“Wait, what’s?—”
I end the call before he can finish, my hands shaking as I stare at the email. Images from Friday night flash through my mind. Ethan’s lethally strong punch, Alex’s poster, the geology department’s display cases, and... Alfie. My brother’s best friend. Emotionally unavailable, devastatingly handsome, and so not the kind of guy I should be crushing on. Alfie Spencer with his hands in my hair and his mouth on mine and?—
“Nope,” I say out loud, like that’ll make the email disappear.
I need to find Alfie. Now. He’s the only other person CC-ed into this email.
I’m halfway to the door before I realize I’m still in my pajamas—Alex’s old UMS sweatshirt and sleep shorts with tiny dinosaurs on them. Not exactly crisis-management attire. But there’s no time to change, not when campus security has probably already seen...
Oh god. They must have security cameras.
I grab my keys and run.
2
