Page 50 of Hide and Keep

“What about the bathroom? You put traps under the toilet lid last time.”

I internally snicker. I forgot about those.

“Do you really think I’d pull the same exact shit?”

All he does is shrug. He does. He believes I’m that uncreative.Thankfully.

We go through the en-suite bathroom, getting the same results—no traps whatsoever. I did absolutely nothing to welcome my new room neighbor. Had I not been blindsided by this turn of unexpected, not to mention unwanted, events, I would’ve given him a reception to remember.

I think I still will.

Under the pretense of an eye roll, I scan the top of the room where the walls meet the high ceiling.

“Well, I don’t want to be late to school, so…” I’m already walking backward.

“You still have thirty-five minutes before your first class starts,” he says as he disappears into the bathroom.

Someone must’ve given him my schedule. Father.

“The drive there takes me seventeen minutes alone, then I have to find a parking spot and walk—”

“It won’t take me that long to get us there. Just give me a minute, then we’ll leave.”

He wants to drive me to school? But then he’ll see the clones. He’ll see mewiththe clones.

Disgust dripping from my tone, I say, “A minute won’t help you. You need a shower.”

“I’m aware, but we don’t have time for that.”

He steps out of the bathroom.

I consider his all-black outfit from the long-sleeve V-neck to the jeans to the boots. It’s not that he looks like a bodyguard per se, but he is giving off major danger vibes.

Major Danger. I almost laugh at myself. That sounds like the name of the costume he was wearing at Hide and Keep.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Yeah.” He glances down at himself. “Why?”

“You’re about to walk onto one of the wealthiest campuses in the country and you look…” Hot. The clones will be throwing themselves at him. “Poor. Wear a suit or something.”

Suits are almost trite in my world. Nobody bats an eye at a suit, but everyone will be batting their eyes at Crue looking like a piece of forbidden fruit.

“I don’t own a suit.”

“I’ll have to fix that,” I blurt before reminding myself I don’t want him as my bodyguard. I don’t want anyone as my bodyguard. “Give Edwin your measurements and he’ll have some made,” I tack on to make it sound less personal.

“I don’t know my measurements.”

“Because your body’s changed recently or…”

“I’ve never been fitted.”

“Never? Not even for that homecoming?” He knows which one I’m talking about.

Darkness settles over his features as he shakes his head. “I borrowed my dad’s wedding suit that night.”

“That’s the only one he has?” My father’s closet is almost entirely suits. Suits for every occasion, even Sunday dinner when people are supposed to be at their most relaxed.

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