Page 7 of Truth or Dare

“Not really,” I said with a shrug, settling into a hanging chair in the corner. The swing creaked slightly as I leaned back. “You’re a lot more stubborn than you were when we were kids.”

Presley’s eyes darkened, her frustration palpable. “What can I help you with?”

“I already told you,” I said, standing up and wandering over to her bookshelf. I pulled out a copy ofCrime and Punishment,flipping through the pages. “Getting ready to murder someone and hide the body?”

Presley lunged toward me, her eyes flashing with anger as she grabbed for the book. “I’ll start with you if you don’t give it back.”

I held it out of reach, grinning. “Relax. I won’t hurt it. I’m just surprised. This is pretty deep for you.”

She shot me a glare. “How would you know? Have you even read it?”

“Two years ago,” I said, still flipping through the pages. “I took a summer class on Russian literature at Blackledge College.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why would you take a class on Russian writers at fifteen?”

I smirked, glancing at her. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

I flipped open the cover and saw an inscription.

"Who’s Deke?" I asked, watching her carefully.

Presley bit her lip, eyes flicking toward the door. "A friend," she muttered.

I raised an eyebrow. "A boyfriend?"

“That’s none of your business,” she snapped, snatching the book from my hand with a sudden burst of energy. Her fingers gripped it tight, knuckles white.

A slow chuckle escaped my lips. "Did I hit a nerve?"

“Hudson, can you please get out of my room?” Her voice trembled with frustration, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

Instead, I wandered over to the shelves, picking up a small figurine, letting it roll between my fingers as I studied the photos pinned to her corkboard. She was everywhere laughing with friends, winning awards. Her popularity was not in doubt.

"Does the gorilla know you like to read?" I asked, letting the figurine drop back into place with a clink.

"Huh?" Her confusion made me grin.

"That big ape who was hanging all over you in the cafeteria. The one with the inflated ego and zero substance."

Her frown deepened. "That was Evan. He’s my boyfriend."

"No, he’s not." I turned to face her, folding my arms as I leaned against the shelf. "He’s a predator. He’ll fuck you, and once he gets bored, he’ll move on. Seen it a thousand times."

Presley shoved me hard, her palms pressing against my chest. “Who are you to say that to me?” she spat, fire flashing in her eyes.

I barely moved, catching her wrists for a second before letting them fall. "I’ve met plenty of guys like him. Big man on campus, gets off on the attention. He thinks he’s doing you a favor by dating you. Classic narcissist. How long has it been?"

Her laugh was sharp, biting. "Why, Hudson Evert, if I didn’t know you—and I really don’t, not anymore—I’d think you were jealous."

I reached out, brushing my knuckles along her arm. The moment I touched her, goosebumps peppered her skin. She tried to hide it, but I saw.

"I’m protecting you. The guy’s a jerk, Presley."

Her lips tightened into a line, and she shifted her weight. "You don’t know him."

My grin widened. I could practically see her wanting to stomp her foot. She looked like she was on the edge, ready to snap. I loved that fight in her. It was cute, in a way. Ever since I heard we were moving back; I’d been waiting for this moment. Presley Rossi—she was more than just the pretty girl from social media. And up close, she was stunning.

I reached for a lock of her hair, winding it slowly around my finger. "But I do know him. Guys like him, they’ve got insecurities so deep they spend half their time looking in the mirror, convincing themselves they’re kings. And you?" I let the strand fall and leaned closer. "You’re just arm candy. Once he’s in college, you’ll be nothing more than a footnote."

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