“Frederick?” I hiss at Darcy.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t hear that guy just call Adam, Frederick?”

“Nope.” Darcy giggles and nudges Lily. “But then again, I can’t hear much at all over chainsaw here.”

I look at Lily and I smother a laugh. At least she’s asleep so we don’t have to worry about her trying to climb out through the window. I tense when Adam slides into the driver’s seat and clicks in his seatbelt. I spin back around and hunt through my bag for nothing in particular—except maybe my dignity, because God knows I’ve misplaced that somewhere.

I pull out my phone, directing all of my attention to that, but I immediately regret it, because the calls and texts are really rolling in now. If one more person asks me when the album is releasing, I’m going to scream. A new message pings through. I frown. Darcy? I turn around and she shrugs at me. When I read the message, I realize why she’s not saying it aloud.

Darcy: Don’t pretend you’re not wondering if the rumors were true. I’m guessing twelve inches.

I choke on a laugh, then I turn around and shoot a glare at Darcy, who shrugs innocently.

Me: I’m pretty sure he’s the one who started those rumors, but answering your question, it might have crossed my mind.

Me: Also—Embarrass me or make this awkward and I’ll kill you.

Darcy: You don’t need my help to embarrass yourself ;)

She makes a solid point. I turn my phone over and press it against my leg, then I take a deep breath, my throat constricting as the scent of his aftershave engulfs me.

God, he smells good.

“Okay, let’s get moving.”

His voice jolts me back to reality. I smile at him and raise my eyebrows.

“Sure, Adam. Or should I call you Frederick?”

“What?” he asks, a confused smile on his face.

“That guy you were just talking to. He called you Frederick,” I say patiently.

“No, he didn’t,” he says, giving me an odd look. “Are you feeling okay?”

He’s so convincing that for a second, I doubt myself.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m crazy,” I protest. “He called you Frederick. I know that’s what I heard.”

“For the record, I didn’t hear anyone call you that,” Darcy pipes up. “I think she imagined it.”

Adam laughs. I turn around and glare at her. Very fucking helpful, thanks.

“Katie, relax. What you heard is him asking me if I’ve seen Frederick,” he replies. His eyes sparkle as he grins at me. “He was out looking for his brother.”

I frown at him. I’m less certain than I was a few minutes ago, but I’m still not convinced. I guess it is possible I heard wrong …

“Maybe you had more to drink than you realized?” he suggests. “You didn’t do anything that you regretted later, did you?”

“Nope.” My tone is like ice.

“Good,” he murmurs, smirking at me. “Because there’s nothing worse than your world turning upside down. Or your smile becoming a frown.”

I can’t be in this car.

I ignore Darcy’s snort and stare straight ahead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten to me. But at the same time, I know I can’t ignore him forever.

I’d rather walk home than be subjected to seventeen hours of this.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking wonderful, thanks for asking,” I grumble.

“Really?” he chuckles. “Because you’re sounding a little defensive.”

“She’s way more uptight than she usually is,” Darcy announces.

“Ah, so it’s me, then?” His grin widens. “Darcy?” he asks when I don’t answer him.

“I think she’s still dealing with the trauma you put her through back in school. That, and the humiliation of you seeing that video,” Darcy explains. “She’s probably feeling very vulnerable right now.”

I sink lower into my seat, then I grab my phone text Darcy, punching down so hard on the letters that my fingers ache.

Me: Please, shut up. Or I swear I’ll make you pay.

Darcy: You need to break the ice. I’m trying to help you.

Me: Then for the love of God, stop helping.

I turn my head and look him in the eye. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m vulnerable or that he intimidates me. He raises his eyebrows at me.

“I’m not ‘struggling’ to deal with any trauma,” I begin, keeping my voice even. “Other than the idea of being locked in a car with an asshole.”

“An asshole?” he repeats. His eyes shine with amusement. “Why am I an asshole?”

“I’ve asked myself that many times,” I say, sweetly. “Why is Adam Jenkins such an asshole?”

“It’s true.” Darcy chortles. “I can confirm she’s asked herself that question a lot.”

“I guess it’s kind of like me pondering why you’re such a snob?” he grins.

“Why?” I laugh. “Because I’m not throwing myself at you?”

“You’re not?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Because I kinda thought you were …”

“You don’t even care what a dick you were in high school,” I say, laughing at how cocky he is.

“Because it was ten years ago,” he reminds me. “I’m sorry if I made your life hard, but aren’t you tired of holding onto all this anger?”

I shake my head and laugh. I’m not even sure why I’m bothering. How can I convince him bullying me was wrong if he doesn’t care enough in the first place?

“Look, can I be honest?” he asks.

“Doubtful,” I mutter.

“I don’t remember much of high school at all, let alone who I picked on.” He sighs and glances at me. “There weren’t too many days I wasn’t stoned, or drunk. Or both. How can I be genuinely be sorry for something I don’t remember doing?”

I laugh at his logic and stare out the window. He doesn’t get it because he’s probably never been made to look like an idiot or be so embarrassed he doesn’t want to show his face. I bite my lip and grin. That’s actually not a bad idea …

“What did I do, anyway? Steal your lunch money?”

“You started calling her shark,” Darcy helpfully announces. “When people asked why, you said it was because her boobs had sprung from nowhere over summer break. That name stuck like fucking glue and the guys were all trying to feel her up.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his jaw.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, smiling at him. Though his apology would be more believable if he wasn’t trying not to laugh. “Let’s just move on.”

“Sure,” he murmurs, giving me an easygoing smile. “Moving on sounds good.”

I glance back, ignoring the strange look Darcy is giving me and look at Lily. I stifle a giggle, because she’s coating a nice layer of drool over his expensive leather seats. Adam glances in the mirror and curses under his breath.

“If she throws up, you two are cleaning it,” he informs me, his lips twisting into a wicked smile.

“No thanks.” Darcy shudders. “I don’t do blood. Katie does though,” she adds. “She’s into all that gore. It’s her thing.”

Adam chuckles. “Fetish?”

“Not a fetish,” I snap. “It’s my job. I’m an emergency response cleaner.”

“A what?” He laughs. “That’s a thing? So, someone drops a soda and they have you on speed dial to fly over there with your mop?” He chuckles to himself, like he thinks he’s so hilarious.

“Not exactly.” I shake my head. “I clean crime scenes and other emergency scenes, once the cops and forensics teams are done with them.”

He glances at me, impressed. “Crime scenes, huh? So, are you contracted to the police for that kind of thing, or can anyone book you? Do you, uh, have a business card or something?” he casually asks.

I glare at him until I realize he’s serious.

I’m trapped in a car with a sociopath.

“Sorry, I work for good, not evil,” I retort. “You really got your life on track after getting kicked out of high school, didn’t you?” I layer on the sarcasm much thicker than I intend. “Your parents must be so proud of you.”

“I’m sure they would be if they were still alive.”

I flinch. Great. Now I feel bad for him.

“So how does one get into your line of work?” His eyes sparkle as he looks at me. “You just woke up one day and thought to yourself, ‘I’m wasting my life working in this office when I could be out there cleaning up blood splatter’?”

“Spatter,” I correct.

“What?”

“It’s pronounced spatter. And it’s my uncle’s business,” I explain. “Lily’s father.”

I don’t bother filling him in on the fact that I’m studying forensics, or how cleaning crime scenes that are virtually untouched is really useful for my studies. All he cares about is how far he can make the blood spill. Or should I say splatter.

“Besides,” I grin. “You’re not really in the position to make fun of me over my career choices, are you?” I tease. “At least I’m cleaning up mess, rather than making it.”

“My job pays well and it’s secure employment.” He shrugs. “What’s not to love? And it’s so much more fun making the mess.” He flashes me one of those smiles that I wish wasn’t so damn sexy.

“Maybe for some people,” I mutter. “I personally hate making a mess.”

“The, you’re missing out. Messes can be fun. The best kinds are the ones that leave you all hot and sweaty and sticky, where you need a shower after it—”

“Can we please talk about something else?” I growl, my face heating up.

“Really? Who doesn’t like talking about ice cream?” he asks innocently.

“You get hot and sweaty eating ice cream?”

“Licking,” he corrects. “I make a mess when I lick my ice cream. Don’t you?”

“No, I’m lactose intolerant,” I say with a smirk.

“Since when?” Darcy cuts in.

“I’d forgotten you were in the car,” I say to her, my tone cool.

“It’s the sexual tension the two of you have going on in here,” Darcy replies. “It messes with your ability to think clearly.” She smiles at me when I turn around to glare at her.

She holds up a set of headphones, and then plugs them into her ears.

“Throw something at me if you want me, okay?”

“Can I throw something at you anyway?”

“I’ll be listening to some music,” she adds, ignoring my comment. “I won’t hear a thing.”

I sigh and face the front again. Adam glances my way and gives me a crooked smile that makes my heart thud a little bit faster. I tense, refusing to let myself do that. Thinking about Adam like that is only going to end up with me getting hurt.

“I’ve either offended you, or I’ve put dirty thoughts in your head.” His eyes shine as he studies me. “I’m just not sure which one.”

“Trust me. No thoughts involving you have entered this head in a long time.” I assure him, ignoring the fact that I’ve just made myself sound like a moron.

“In a long time?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Which means they have in the past? No need to answer that. The bright shade of red you’re turning is answering for you.” He presses his lips together, his eyes sparkling. “Though if you still have that diary …”

“Just stop talking to me,” I hiss, glaring at him.

“You’re quite the little firecracker.” He chuckles. “What happened to the Katie who was too scared to talk to me?”

“I thought you couldn’t remember anything of high school?” I tease him.

“The memories come and go.” He shrugs.

“There’s a name for that,” I inform him. “It’s called bullshit.”

“You want silence?” He grins. “Fine. Five minutes, not a word from me.”

Finally.

But the silence is just as bad.

He starts to whistle. At first, I ignore him and gaze out the window, but there’s something familiar about the tune he’s whistling. Something I can’t put my finger on. I turn my head sideways and frown, because it’s really starting to bother me that I can’t identify it. He winks at me. What the hell is it? I know that tune—

Oh fuck.

I close my eyes, sure I know what’s coming …

“You could’ve had it all. I would’ve given it to you raw …”

Every embarrassing moment in my life pales in comparison to this. Add them all up and they still don’t even come close to how I’m feeling right now. My hands clutch my thighs so tightly that I can’t feel my fingers. I wipe my sweaty palms along my thighs and then I pick up my phone and open my chat session with Darcy.

Me: Pause your music.

Wait for it …

Darcy snorts, then moments later, my phone vibrates.

Darcy: I feel really bad for joining in now.

Me: What’s the worst kind of ad I could place in someone else’s name? Payback for being a total dick?

If I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough, I’m fourteen years old again and lying on my bed, crying over him. I’ve thought about that song so many times since then. Every time I thanked God I was never stupid enough to sing it to him. And then I do this. How could I have been so stupid? I can’t even blame Lily.

This is my mess.

I stare down at the text Darcy just sent me and smile.

Oh, that’s brilliant.

“If I’d known you’d had that much writing talent, I would have paid you to write my English papers,” he teases.

I’m too busy putting my writing talent to good use to answer him. I hit save, a rush of adrenaline sweeping through me as I slide my phone back into my bag.

Now all I need to do is wait for an opportunity to get his phone number.

“Are you done?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Nope.” He smirks at me “I’m just warming up.”

I press my lips together and smile as he pulls into a gas station, parking in front of an empty pump. He gets out, leaving his phone in the holder.

Perfect.