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Against my will, words poured from my mouth. “I’m so sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry I said it. It needed to be said, but I’m sorry I said it so…loudly. And I didn’t know he was there. I thought we were alone.”

Ice-blue eyes penetrated deep, and I dropped my gaze to my hands twisting in my lap.

His voice was calm, but precise. “First, let me disabuse you of whatever misguided notion you have regarding my opinion of you or your character. I don’t think you’re trash and never have.”

Well, that was false, and I had proof. “You called me trailer trash, Shepherd. I heard you. That night…after— You were talking to your friends, and you said I was hot, but I was still only trailer trash in a dress.”

The color drained from his face in a great rush. Something sparked in his eyes, some dark understanding I didn’t fully comprehend. “You—you heard that?”

I dipped my chin. I thought he knew I’d heard him. Hadn’t Ravi made that clear?

“I—” He let out a breath. A long moment passed, distance clouding his expression before he said, “Wow. And afterward, Ravi⁠—”

“Was defending me.”

“Because of that comment? He—he didn’t know about⁠—”

“—before?” I finished for him, my skin going hot as an inferno. “No, I never told anyone about that.”

His dazed countenance left me baffled, but he said only, “That explains so much.”

“It…does?”

“All these years, and I thought—” He shook his head.

A long moment lapsed while I tried to puzzle out what exactly he thought, but the silence grew deafening. “Cam?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, heartfelt, stare penetrating. “Those were words spoken by a jealous teenage boy with a crush on a girl he didn’t want anyone else to have, one who he’d just overheard calling him vapid, and—what was it? Oh, right—completely unlikable.”

My heart stopped, then restarted in a strange rhythm. The blood drained from my head, making me dizzy. “I—I didn’t know you heard that.”

Wintry eyes turned even colder.

“Obviously I didn’t think you were unlikable, Camden,” I hissed, leaning closer. “I let you kiss me.”

Unmoved, his eyebrow perked. “Obviously I didn’t think you were trash, Shay. I kissed you.”

I had done everything in my willpower to forget that kiss. The heat. The desperation. The magical way his skin brushed like glittering starlight against my own. But the memory flooded through me now as if it’d been only moments ago instead of years.

I spread my hands flat on his desk and stared at them so I wouldn’t look at his mouth. “I thought—that kiss—you must have been making fun of me somehow. Teasing the poor girl.”

His voice turned incredulous. “How did you reach that conclusion?”

“Well, it made more sense than the alternative.” I threw aggressive hand gestures toward his eyes…his hair…his general being. “You’re Camden Shepherd. And I’m…me. You couldn’t have actually liked me.”

“I couldn’t have—what?”

I crossed my arms. No way was I saying it again.

He sat back. “You think you know everything about everyone, don’t you? This is the science project freshman year all over again—you, making assumptions about people based on preconceived and mistaken convictions. You were just so certain I wouldn’t pull my weight because I was—what? Popular? Privileged? Rich?”

“All the above,” I muttered without looking at him.

“Exactly. I had to argue with you for an hour just to be a part of our project, and did I do my half like I said I would?”

“Yes,” I said begrudgingly.

“Yes. I can’t believe you think I couldn’t like you. Like you? That word is…inadequate. I was—” He exhaled heavily. “I liked you, okay?”