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“Nothing.”

“Hayes Bishop.”

“He didn’t stand you up.”

I stare at him. “Excuse me?”

“Handsy Harris changed his mind.”

“That is literally what standing someone up means.”

“Not exactly.”

My eyes narrow. He’s fighting a smile.

“You did something.”

“Your brother and I may have had a conversation with him.”

“You–” I sit up straighter. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“He was a douchebag.”

“I was sixteen!”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t help your case!”

“He was eighteen.”

“So?”

“So, he was eighteen.”

I grab the nearest throw pillow and swing it at him.

He catches it with one hand.

“Laney.”

“You scared off my date!”

“I saved you from a shitty one.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He told the entire hockey team he was going to hook up with Coach Beckett’s daughter.”

I stop.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

My anger deflates a tad.

Bishop tosses the pillow aside.