“I like to sleep diagonal, and I think a lot of people do. When I get married, I’ll have two king-sized beds in one room and I’ll sleep separately, except for Sundays.”

I grinned as her thin fingers frantically searched for more of my hand. “What’s on Sundays?”

“Conjugal visits, duh!”

“What happened to double-drills?” I asked and immediately regretted opening my mouth.

I’d inserted myself into Sydney’s marriage fantasy. If she wasn’t already scared, she was going to knock me out with Elliott’s crusty tube sock and take off right now. I closed my eyes, waiting for her reaction.

“Well, you keep that gut away and we’ll see what happens.” She hopped down from the bed.

I clung onto every word, hoping the ideas I planted in Sydney’s head would take root and grow. But looking into her smiling face, I knew there was one thing still left to do—crush her all over again.

“We can work on that gut right now,” she whispered, pulling off her shirt.

When she crawled into my bunk, I wrapped my arms around her.

“Whaddya say?” She began to unbuckle my jeans.

This wasn’t right.

I mean, everything about Sydney and me felt right. But this, Sydney not knowing the truth, was killing me. I thought if I could take her away from school, I’d make her forget. Really, I was the one trying to forget. Every soft touch. Every sweet thing she said made my stomach twist into knots.

I got swept up in the moment yesterday. Sydney did too. I wanted her so badly I didn’t think it through entirely. Not only was I her blackmailer, but I’d written a letter, giving her hope. Deep inside, I knew she might never recover from that. Could I blame her? That letter was full of empty promises making her feel special and talented. And she was. But it wouldn’t be enough that I thought she was special and talented. When she found out the truth, we were as good as over.

“You gonna help me or what?” She laid tiny kisses along my jawline as she fumbled with the button on my jeans. I moved my head away, and she sat back on my thighs, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

I wasn’t about to make love to Sydney again, then turn around and tell her I’d been messing with her for weeks. Sydney trusted me, and I fucked it all up.

“Nothing,” I said, feigning a yawn. I slid my palm down her arm and grabbed her hand at the end. “I just want to cuddle tonight, baby.” Sydney moved, and I pulled my jeans down. “We’ve been hot and heavy for the last two days. You need a break,” I teased.

She gave me scrutinizing look, but I pulled her into bed with me. “I just want you to lie in my arms tonight.”

At breakfast, I thought through my plan. Unfortunately, the outcome was always the same.

I was a dead man.

I couldn’t tell her here. Mom would be ticked if she visited an ashy patch along the beach because Sydney burned down her father’s cabin.

The country. That’s where I’d tell her. On the way back to campus.

I figured if I took her into some secluded woods, no one would hear her screaming.

Please, I wasn’t going to kill her!

I just knew if she couldn’t hail a cab or pick up the number 143 bus, she’d be forced to hear things out. Wait, trees… rocks… branches… Better take to her to an open field.

My guilt doubled by the time we left the coast. Sydney’s little hand never left mine for a second, and I could feel a dripping sweat, a clammy reminder that I was an asshole, multiplying on my palms.

Sydney, I’d say, let me first tell you I’m crazy in love with you. So crazy I plotted your demise for the last six weeks… I know, right? I’m such a goofball… Yes, I forgive you for trashing my car… I totally agree, baby. Let’s never speak of this again… Then we’d kiss and hug it out, right? Because any normal girl would be completely forgiving if her boyfriend admitted to a well thought-out strategy to ruin her life and make her suffer horrible embarrassment.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sydney’s sweet voice cut through the inevitable bloodbath in my mind. She’d finally settled on a jazz station and opened the window to clear the guilt-ridden air.

“I really don’t think you do.” Shooting her a sidelong glance, I took an exit for a nearby state park.

“You were thinking about freshman year, right?” She turned toward me with the most adorable smile tucked on her face. “I was too.” Propping her feet on the dash, she sank in the leather passenger seat. “I feel stupid that I lied to you. I didn’t tell you that you were my first because I didn’t want you to get all weird and back out.”

“Did you think I’d ditch you for someone else? I think you could tell I wasn’t going anywhere.”

We pulled up in the parking lot in the sparsely used state park. It was midway between the coast and campus, and I knew the terrain well. For fast getaways of course.

“This park has good trails,” I said, pulling my fleece from the backseat.

Sydney smiled and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Hold on,” she said, digging through her shirt. “Good, my Mace is on me. You never know in the woods. There could be bears.”

Gritting my teeth, I stepped out of car. How could I have forgotten the goddamn Mace?

“I should probably write a note.” I rummaged through my bag. “Park rangers want to know when people hike out here. You know, who they are and when they started.” And so they can locate my body when Sinister douses me with Mace and pushes me off a cliff.

Shit. This trail has a cliff edge—she could make it look like an accident. I wrote out a quick note, mentioning any cliff-related accidents were not in fact accidents and to investigate thoroughly, then folded it and tucked it under the windshield wiper.

“Here, let me add my cell number.” Sydney went for the note, and I shook my head.

“I put both of ours on there already, gorgeous. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Pretty little head?” Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head, telling me she wasn’t amused. “I don’t like it when you start in with the compliments, Gray. It makes me nervous. Should I be nervous?”

“No, ‘course not.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the trailhead. “So tell me why you chose to lose it to Gray Peters?”

“Well, first off, I liked how you didn’t refer to yourself in third person like most jocks,” she said, shaking her head.

“Sorry, tell me why you chose me.”

“Because you were honest.”

I looked up at the tops of the conifers, expecting God to drop a branch on my thick skull.

I’m honest.

I was honestly two seconds from pissing my jeans. Sydney had it in her mind I was a good person, and she was going to hate me when the truth came out. Which it would, once we found a safe place, in a clearing where we could battle it out and I could wrestle her Mace from her first.

“That’s a Death Angel,” Sydney commented, pointing to a cluster of tall, white mushrooms sheltered along the trunk of a fir tree. “They’ll kill ya. Yep, death from liver failure six to ten days after ingestion.” She turned to face me, walking backward on the trail. “I know all the dangerous fungi in the forest. Dad taught Jack and me. Symptoms start with diarrhea and vomiting. Then delirium and seizures. Then you go into a coma and die,” she said with a high-beam grin plastered on her face.

I added fungi-free zone, to the fast-growing list of what should not be available when I broke the news to Sydney.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Gray hooked his finger through my belt loop and tugged me to him. Wrapping his arms around my shoulders, he whispered into my ear, “Sydney, I brought you out here to tell you something.”