Chapter Eighteen

Dean

Four weeks later and what had happened after Code Club with Mr. Tanner was still eating at my mind. That and his incessant demands on my progress to uncover the person behind Ask Me Anything. The whole situation was twisting my nerves. I had a few ideas of who might be behind it—thanks to the person declaring herself a female Wilmont student and for being skilled enough to run the site to be virtually untraceable. I hadn’t begun to dig hard enough yet, instead hoping I could find a way out of this that involved clearing Tessa and not ratting out whoever was behind the blog.

After my casual questions four weeks ago before Code Club, Amber had turned my gaze away from her. I hated to even think it could be her, but there were—like she’d said—six girls in Griffin’s class. Any of them would probably be able, if they studied hard enough, to run a site like Ask Me Anything. Amber could do it in her sleep, but when I’d asked her if she had any ideas on who might be behind it, she’d done the same thing I’d done and started with the girls in Griffin’s class. It was a relief to know it wasn’t Amber because I wouldn’t want that kind of heat hanging over her head.

Even having the list of girls, though, I was still trying to work the problem—to find a solution that wouldn’t result in me being an unethical jerk and outing someone who demanded privacy—that, and a way to free Tessa from Tanner’s grasp. She didn’t even know—but now I understood her distance. After our Hackers movie night, I’d seen her even less. I wasn’t pushing her on the issue because now I fully understood why she needed space, her guilt over pulling the prank at the beginning of the year likely driving her away from me.

It was good, in a way—the constant distraction. Because my brain had already presented me with the perfect solution to get even with Tanner. One that threw my current white hat plan in the garbage.

You can’t.

I forced the voice of reason out of my head.

Sure, this new idea was more gray than white…practically on its way to black, but Tanner’s heart was blacker. The way he threatened me and Tessa, the way he treated his students, using them as pawns to gain favors and awards and grants and raises. Pathetic. People deserved to know the truth.

The truth wasn’t black hat.

Hurting someone’s reputation is.

Not my fault he behaved this way. I had the capabilities to bring to light all his wrongs. Wasn’t I obligated to do so because of that power? But not before I cleared Tessa completely.

The battle went on for so long, it split my head.

I reached to shut my laptop screen but paused when a chat box appeared.

PixieBurn: You’re up

My headache instantly eased at the sight of Amber’s avatar. I loved that she rocked late hours like I did.

NightLocker: So are you

I shifted the laptop, scooting deeper into the four pillows on my bed. We’d spent more and more time together over the weeks, falling into this easy rhythm of back and forth that I’d come to count on.

PixieBurn: What are you doing Saturday?

NightLocker: Probably coding, why?

PixieBurn: Want to take the day off?

PixieBurn: The entire night, too?

PixieBurn: Annnd part of the next morning?

I reread each of her words a few times, raking my fingers through my hair as they sunk in.

NightLocker: Um...

NightLocker: Is this some elaborate scheme to kill me?

PixieBurn: Only if you get out of line

I laughed out loud at that, shaking my head at the screen. What was she up to?

NightLocker: I’d never?

PixieBurn: Then you’re safe

NightLocker: What’s up?

PixieBurn: I want to make it up to you

NightLocker: Make what up to me?

PixieBurn: The non-date I botched

NightLocker: You didn’t. I told you that.

PixieBurn: Regardless

PixieBurn: Are you in?

I sighed, wishing like hell she didn’t think she had anything to make up for. I’d told her as much. Maybe I should’ve tried a little harder these past weeks to make it perfectly clear that she had done nothing wrong. We’d gone on more non-dates each weekend—sometimes to her work to code, sometimes to a movie, others just to grab food and chill at her house. Easy. Fun. Refreshing.

I’d almost asked her a few times to help me uncover who Ask Me Anything was, but in the end, I’d always swallowed the urge. I wouldn’t rope her into this mess. Exactly the reason I’d kept her in the coding room when she’d been hell-bent on giving Tanner a piece of her mind after we’d witnessed the blackmail on Jesse. Anything I could do to keep my two favorite girls—Tessa and Amber—off Tanner’s radar was worth it.

My fingers hovered over the keys, wondering where this newfound sense of adventure had come from. Was it me? Was it all the time we spent together? A little bit of warm pride shot through my blood—the thought that I had anything to do with bringing Amber out of her recent darkness…but no, she didn’t need me to do that. She was strong and standing all on her own. The girl didn’t need anyone, but those who were in her circle were lucky as hell to be there.

NightLocker: Definitely

NightLocker: Where are we headed?

PixieBurn: You’ll need to pack an overnight bag

She typed her response faster than I could blink. And the words she’d typed? Knocked the breath right out of my lungs.

A whole night with Amber?

A slew of images rushed through my head—all of them hotter than the next.

Lock it up.

I shook off the images and focused on the one thing that mattered.

This was her way of saying she trusted me.

I couldn’t ignore the way my heart filled at the thought.

I caught my breath and set my fingers on the keys.

NightLocker: Is that so?

PixieBurn: Don’t get too excited

NightLocker: Too late

PixieBurn: Don’t make me regret inviting you

NightLocker: I don’t even know where we’re going

PixieBurn: It’s a surprise

NightLocker: Now you’re just copying

PixieBurn: Nope

PixieBurn: Mine is SO much better

I grinned. All earlier frustrations forgotten and replaced by beautifully torturous new ones.

This girl.

She was coming back to herself. To the playful, feisty banter I knew her for before. Though she’d never been this flirty before.

Thanks to him.

And I wasn’t at all sad about it now. But I couldn’t let her get away with it that easy.

NightLocker: Hard to top arcade and food trucks

PixieBurn: I will top it

NightLocker: I’ll be the judge of that

PixieBurn: Thought it didn’t matter anyway

NightLocker: What?

PixieBurn: Who was on top

The pads of my fingers froze on the keys, and my eyebrows climbed right up my head.

Amber twisting my words.

Flirting.

Bickering.

Fucking heaven. I could do this all night and never get tired of it.

Circling back to her last sentence, I blew out a breath. The temperature of my dark room had risen a few degrees.

NightLocker: It wouldn’t

NightLocker: It doesn’t

NightLocker: You’ll realize that someday. If we’re together it’s fun. No question

PixieBurn: Maybe I already have

The girl was sending jolts of electricity throughout my system.

What was she saying?

That she finally realized we were great together? That us might be worth the time and risk?

Or, was it just that she could finally trust me as a friend, fully let me in? Talk to me about anything and everything?

Does it matter either way?

No. It didn’t.

With Amber, I’d take whatever she was willing to give me.

I cared about her that much.

Didn’t stop the images of tasting her kiss from rolling through my head.

PixieBurn: Will your parents be cool with the overnight trip?

That did.

Talk about an ice-cold bucket of water. Bringing up my parents.

Low blow, Pixie.

I could picture her laughing her cute butt off in her room, her laptop shaking from her giggles.

NightLocker: I’m 18

PixieBurn: So

PixieBurn: So am I

NightLocker: They’ll be fine

NightLocker: Be easier if I knew where we were going

PixieBurn: You wouldn’t tell me

PixieBurn: I won’t tell. It’d ruin it

NightLocker: Stubborn Pixie

PixieBurn: Annoying?

I scoffed at the screen.

That asshole. He made her second-guess herself far too much.

Even though I knew she didn’t need me to, I wanted to remedy every wrong action he’d taken. Help her realize how incredible she was until she never questioned her actions again. I wanted to show her there were people in the world who valued her—show her something maybe she was blind to when she looked in the mirror.

NightLocker: Not even close

PixieBurn: Cause I could tone it down

NightLocker: Don’t you dare

NightLocker: I like you just the way you are

I knew the words were cheesy as hell the second I hit send, but I couldn’t help it. She needed to know. To understand that not all guys were afraid of her spark.

PixieBurn: You could be a little less perfect

PixieBurn: If we’re on the subject

NightLocker: I try so hard

NightLocker: But it just never works

NightLocker: I’m the perfect guy

PixieBurn: LOL

PixieBurn: Alright

PixieBurn: Be ready at 8 on Saturday

NightLocker: AM?

Oh damn. Not a.m. Where the hell was she taking me?

Thoughts of my earlier suspicion of her trying to kill me returned. Surely a wake-up call that early on a non-school day would be enough to end me.

PixieBurn: Yes

NightLocker: Groan

PixieBurn: If you’re not up for it, I can ask Hannah

NightLocker: You better bring coffee

PixieBurn: Only if you’re a good boy until then

NightLocker: You never know

PixieBurn: LOL

PixieBurn: We should sleep

NightLocker: Are you saying you’re in bed right now?

There went those flames again, licking my skin and heating my blood. I tried not to think about what kind of PJs Amber wore…but failed.

Shorts and a T?

Sweats and a tank?

Silk boxers and matching spaghetti strap?

The images flipped through my mind like fast reels of old-school tape. Honestly, it didn’t matter how I pictured her or what I pictured her in. It was the hacker-pixie that drove me wild. Had me thinking things I shouldn’t—like dates, and lazy Saturdays, and partnered hacking tourneys.

PixieBurn: Yes

PixieBurn: Aren’t you?

NightLocker: I am

PixieBurn: So

PixieBurn: Let’s go to sleep

NightLocker: Alright, Pixie

NightLocker: Sweet dreams

PixieBurn: Night, Locker

NightLocker: Ha. Ha.

She clicked offline before I could type out another response to her totally corny pun. I shut my laptop screen, setting it on the nightstand next to my bed. Rolling to my back, I sighed.

My headache was gone, the internal battle I’d raged put to bed.

Replaced by thoughts of what Amber had in store for me.

Whatever it was. Wherever she took me. I knew it’d be incredible.

Because that was what Amber did. Made any kind of situation better.

…

“We’re getting on a train?” I cocked an eyebrow at Amber as she ushered us through the too-crowded station early Saturday morning. As promised, I’d been a good boy all week, and she’d rewarded me with a double Americano. I clutched the warm paper cup in my hand, siphoning the life it offered.

“No,” she said, rolling her eyes as she handed the clerk two tickets. “This is it. Surprise!” She waved her free hand in the air like she was in jazz club. “We’re going to watch the trains come and go all day and pretend like we’re passengers for each one. We’ll make up stories for what we’ll do on our travels. Whoever comes up with the best story wins.”

I gaped at her before scanning the station as she led the way to the main lobby. There were eight tracks, all of them concealed by a floor-to-ceiling glass wall, doors carved out with turnstiles for each track.

She stopped near an empty bench, eyeing me.

I shrugged. “Well, I’m going to win,” I declared, dropping my backpack filled with an extra pair of clothes, sleep-shorts, and a toothbrush on the bench.

Her lips popped into the shape of an O.

“What?” I asked. “I’m good at making up stories.”

She burst out laughing. She shook her head as she scooped up my bag and shoved it against my chest. “I was joking,” she said, motioning to the third door on the left. “We’re on track three.”

My backpack felt way too light without my gear in it as I slung it over my shoulder and followed her to the line outside track three. Glancing up, my eyes popped when I read where the train was headed. “New York?”

“Yep.”

“You’re taking me to New York?” I asked again as the line moved forward.

“Yes.” She handed the ticket-taker her phone, and he scanned two barcodes on her screen before waving us onward.

Dumbfounded, I hurried behind her as she scanned the train cars, reading the letters aloud.

“B!” she squealed after we’d all but sprinted to the front of the train. She climbed the small set of stairs, turned right, and then plopped down into a double row of seats. Patting the seat next to her, she grinned up at me. “Or do you want the window?” she asked when I hadn’t moved.

I shook my head, sinking beside her.

She leaned back against her chair, stretching out her long legs. “Wait till you see what we’re doing when we get there.”

“Wait,” I said, shifting to face her, our knees brushing. “We’re not just seeing New York City? We’re actually doing something specific when we get there?”

She chuckled. “Of course.”

“Damn.” I leaned my head against the seat, never taking my eyes off her as the conductor came over the speakers, talking about the stops and lunch and drink options.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m not used to losing.”

“You don’t even know what we’re doing yet.”

I raised my arms to indicate the train that now pulled out of the station. “This is enough to put my silly arcade night to shame.”

She reached over and placed her hand over my forearm. “That wasn’t silly.” She glanced down, her tongue darting over her lips. “It was amazing. This,” she said, looking out the window before returning her eyes to me, “is my way of saying thank you for all the nights after that one. And,” she continued before I could argue with her, “it’s also something I’ve had planned for months. I wasn’t sure I would go through with it until I realized how amazing going with you would be.”

I smiled at her, adjusting so that I interlaced her fingers in mine. “Thanks,” I said.

“For what?”

“For all of this. For trusting me enough to let me tag along.”

She shrugged, but her cheeks flushed. “DC. Right?”

I nodded. “DC.”

…

Three and a half hours later, we were both glancing out the window as New York came into view. Amber clapped her hands together. “We’ll have just enough time to check into the hotel, eat, and then get changed!” Her voice was laced with the kind of excitement I reserved for when I won hacking tournaments. It was totally contagious and absolutely adorable. The fact that Amber had called my mother to give her all the details—including the hotel room—and clear everything with her was insanely cute. I’d tried and failed to not think about the two beds that awaited us in one room. I mean, sure, two beds, but…Amber would be sleeping not ten feet away from me. My blood rose a few degrees just thinking about it.

“You going to tell me where we’re headed yet?”

“Sure,” she said, and my eyes widened with anticipation. “The Sheraton Hotel,” she said, a smirk on her lips.

“Ugh,” I groaned. “Not cool.”

She lightly smacked my chest. “I’m so cool! I took you on a train to NYC!”

I captured her hand, holding it in place against me. “Truth.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t try to pull away.

I held her there until the train stopped.

And she let me.

…

“Why do you keep checking your cell?” Amber asked, a smile on her face as we took the elevator up to our room.

I pocketed my phone, shrugging. “Honestly, I keep expecting a text from your dad, complete with death threats or an admission that they’re staying one room over.”

She laughed, tapping the key against the door, and held it open for me.

“You sure they’re cool with this one-room situation?” I asked, tossing my bag on the bed closest to the window.

A flush dusted Amber’s cheeks as she set her bag down and nodded. “Yes. You know my parents,” she said, and it was comforting to know that I did. The last four weeks we’d spent plenty of time at her place, with her parents always around, and it was never a downer. They were cool, laid back, and yet…parent-y.

“I do,” I said. “But I’m still thinking this is kind of a dream.”

“They trust me. And you, apparently. Also, like you mentioned before, eighteen.” She tilted her head. “Your idea of a dream is sleeping in the same room with me?” She snorted. “We’re in the coding room for hours together. What’s the difference?”

I slowly rose from the bed, crossing the distance between us to gaze down at her. “There is a huge difference, Pixie. You know it.”

She swallowed hard, staring up at me, her eyes churning.

“You don’t snore in the coding room,” I said, and she blew out a breath.

“I don’t snore.”

I shrugged. “We’ll see about that.”

…

Three hours and a couple room-service burgers later, Amber was stepping out of the bathroom, fully ready for our night.

She wore a black plaid skirt that stopped above her knees, a gray sweater, and some kick-ass black combat boots. Her hair was in its usual feathered style, the pops of pink complementing the smoky stuff she’d slid over her eyes.

“Whoa,” I said, my eyes drinking her in. “You look amazing.”

“So do you,” she said.

All I’d done was shower and slide into some dark jeans and a navy-blue Henley. Still, the way she eyed me up and down like she wanted to take a bite out of me? Worth it.

I mentally thanked Tessa for conning me into taking her shopping and then forcing me to buy this shirt—which at the time I thought was too tight. She’d assured me it was perfect, said it brought out the blue in my eyes or some shit.

“You ready for this?” Amber asked, heading toward the door.

I opened it for her. In reality, I wasn’t sure. Something was building between us—had been building for months now—and I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t calm it, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But I certainly didn’t want to overstep a line, especially if Amber still had it firmly drawn. So, was I ready to keep things strictly friendly?

“Absolutely,” I said.

Because I knew despite how strong the current sparked between us, I wanted her in my life. Any way I could have her.

She smiled like she held the biggest secret in the world.

I was more than ready to uncover it.

…

“Holy. Shit.” I gaped at Amber as we were allowed inside the massive venue packed with all manner of people. People with mohawks. People with neon hair. People with brightly colored bracelets and glow-in-the-dark necklaces. All cramming onto one wide-open space of a dance floor laid beneath the biggest stage I’d ever seen.

“deadmau5?” I asked. “You’ve had tickets this entire time and didn’t tell me?”

She giggled, bouncing on her feet as we claimed a spot near the front. “You like?”

“Love,” I said, pulling her close so she could hear me. “I can’t believe you wanted to give me your extra ticket.”

The laughter left her eyes, her shoulders dropping. She shook her head, forcing a smile. “I think it was meant for you all along,” she said. “I just hadn’t known it yet.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into my chest. “You win. Forever,” I said as the lights dimmed. “There is no way I’m ever topping this.”

She tugged on my head, bringing my ear to her lips to be heard over the cheering crowd. “I’d like to watch you try,” she teased. “If you feel like it.”

“Oh, I will try.”

Before she could respond, red lights pulsed over the stage in beat with the music. Amber and I joined the crowd, screaming our excitement when the massive projector screen lit up with deadmau5. From where we stood, we could see him behind his epic DJ table, the massive silver mouse head—its big round eyes lit up with X’s—as he bounced and pressed all the magic buttons to create the perfect sounds.

The beats were epic—smooth and slow, and rapid and sharp. That was the best thing about him, he had his hand in everything and it pulsed like a living, breathing song inside you. The perfect hacking music, too, allowing you to lose yourself in the rhythm and fall completely off the grid.

But we weren’t hacking tonight.

No.

This—with Amber in front of me, swaying to the beat of the music—it was better.

I never thought I’d say that in my life. But it was true.

Song after song, I held on to Amber’s hips, dancing with her, watching her lose herself to the music. Watching her smile and cheer and perfectly bounce against me. She was beyond beautiful, the freedom in her eyes, the spark that fired behind them when she’d turn to glance up at me despite feeling that I was there.

There were at least a thousand other people surrounding us, and even more than that behind us—but it felt like we were alone.

Her body soft against the hard planes of mine.

The way she rolled her hips, and the way I gripped them, following her with my own moves.

Perfection.

There was no other way to describe it. She made me feel awake—like she was this living flame lighting up a world I hadn’t realized was dark before she came into it.

And I couldn’t believe I’d gotten lucky enough to be the one holding on to her fire.

We danced the night away, and when the last song quieted throughout the loud venue, I leaned down and tucked my head over her shoulder and breathed her in. She smelled like lavender and vanilla and the smoke that coated the concert hall.

She wrapped an arm around me from behind, turning her head so our noses touched.

My heart raced like a gun had gone off.

Her eyes were excited, open, and just a tad bit afraid.

I didn’t move. I wouldn’t. Not again. And if this was all she wanted—dancing and comfort and fun—then I would give it to her a hundred times over and never ask for more.

A few breaths and she inched her lips closer, brushing them with a feather-light touch over mine.

I sighed hungrily but didn’t dare push it. Moving back slightly, I gauged her reaction.

Bright, beautiful eyes. On fire.

In a blink, she turned in my embrace, facing me, our chests flush. Fingers on my neck, she jerked my head down, this time crushing her lips on mine. I folded my arms around her hips, hefting her to my level, holding her against me as I let her take what she wanted, and gave everything back.