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“You weren’t,” was all he said before he grabbed me by the wrists with one hand and slung me around his neck like a goddamned sheep. “Don’t struggle or I’ll drop your ass. Head first.”

When we came out of the stall, I caught sight of us in the mirror. The gleam in his eye, the little dimple he got on one side when he tried not to smile, that fucking beautiful mustache. Me around his shoulders. I couldn’t help it, it was all too good. I was shaking with joy and apprehension.

He bumped my forehead on the doorframe.

“Have you ever done something so great that you’d be 100% okay with going out on that note?” I asked him as he carried me down the hallway. “You could literally waterboard me right now, and I’d probably just laugh at your stupid face.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that no one is stopping me from obviously restraining you against your will and dragging you back to my room?”

My eyes narrowed. “Yeah, good call out. What the fuck?”

“Just remember that, Louisa. No one will come for you.”

A shiver of anticipation ran along my spine. “I’ll scream,” I said.

“You won’t.” Will shoved my knees and his shoulder into his room door and knocked my face on the doorframe again. Fuck!

Then he slowly slid me down his shoulder until my feet were on the ground, without letting go of my wrists. He pushed me backwards with his hold on them. Back. Back. Back into the bathroom and all the way into the shower.

I was trembling. Definitely at the point where my ribs ached so much that the hilarity of the mustache was its own form of torture.

He turned the shower on, and freezing water blasted down my face and body. I shrieked and tried to get out, but he blocked the exit and held me under the cold water. When I was totally soaked, teeth chattering, he shut the water off, and I stood there with my hair plastered to my head, mascara no doubt running down my cheeks, grin on my face, nips on point.

He looked like a total scumbag checking out my tits in my wet t-shirt with that fucking ‘stache, but I absolutely loved it.

Then the dorm door opened again, and Will’s head snapped up. Hasan was here to save me!

“Has!” I screeched as Will grabbed me, wet and slippery, and flipped me upside down. “Hassi, help me!”

Has came in with wild eyes and clocked the situation immediately.

“Oh fuck,” he said, concern all over his face, “is it permanent?’’ he asked Will, who was casually holding me suspended over the toilet.

“No! It was just a harmless prank!” I cried. The blood rushed to my head, and I felt frantic—just not frantic enough to keep my mouth shut “…It should have been, though.”

Has didn’t hesitate. “Alright, you hold her down in there, and I’ll flush.”

The weekend had gone by the way the best ones always did—too fast and a little too wholesome in hindsight. One minute we were crammed into Will’s truck with bags of donated toys piled high in the bed and the next we were back in my studio. Hasan was coaxing my ancient coffee maker into doing its job, while Will leaned against the worktable, hair sticking up in every direction and three-day stubble I rarely saw on his jaw. Fucking adorable.

Playing Santa and his elves at the group home had been loud and chaotic and perfect.

Hasan dressed up as Santa repping for brown kids everywhere. Red suit, fake beard tugged into place, voice dropped low and warm. It was a happy memory for him—something he’d looked forward to every year since we left. The littlest kids still believed in him, and even the fuckers who pretended not to lined up anyway, loud and jostling, eyes bright despite themselves.

Will and I were the elves, passing out presents, fixing bows, crouching down to tie shoes and give hugs. Will committed to the bit so hard he ended up surrounded by a group of boys—arms crossed, brow furrowed—nodding in thought as they discussed options for building a flying bike. In his fur-trimmed, belted jacket and leggings, he was more irresistible than ever.

When I’d overheard him telling the boys he’d need to consult his team, I’d felt a little wistful imagining him with his own boys one day: listening carefully, showing them respect like his dad obviously did with him. I caught his eye, and he winked at me like it was our secret.

The day had been full and fast-paced, so the moment passed quickly, and I didn’t give it much thought until that night.

We’d gotten a hotel room with two beds. Hasan and I had slept in the same bed more times than I can count. It made sense for us to share, but I’d laid there, wishing it hadn’t carried so much meaning for me to sleep next to Will like we had when we left the hospital. Wanting it at all felt new.

All three of us had shared the tent on the studio floor last night. My back hurt this morning, but I’d probably miss this when we moved into a real house. The smell of coffee had just started to cut through the air when a knock sounded at the door.

Will frowned, glancing at the clock. Not many people knew I lived here other than Rachel, and she wouldn’t have knocked.

“Were you expecting someone?” Hasan asked.

Before I could answer, there was another knock and a muffled voice announced, “Delivery!”