Sydney

I stayed rooted to my seat, goosebumps making their way to my brain as I forced my head straight, the pen clutched in my hand like a lifeline.

I could feel Dean press against me now. His cologne stronger than I’d ever noticed.

My breathing felt wrong—heavier and heavier with each exhale.

Still, his hand moved higher.

“Dean,” I breathed, my voice barely there. “What are you doing?”

“Why’re you so tense?” He whispered close to my ear. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

What?

My brain stalled.

I said nothing.

“Come on, look at it.” His fingers squeezed lightly. “What girl makes arrangements with a guy in...