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“Because he’s in love with the girl who built it,” he replied, “and she can’t stand him.”

I pinched my eyebrows together, confused and not caring who saw my face anymore.

“Emmy Scott?” I shot out, wanting to laugh.

“What?” Michael looked at me, not sharing the joke.

“Well, she’s not…” I trailed off, thinking of moody little Emory Scott in her black-rimmed glasses and overalls who never wore a stitch of make-up. “Well, she’s not really his type, is she?”

I couldn’t believe it. This had to be a mistake. Will had only ever been seen with girly girls in short skirts with perfect hair. Girls who knew how to flirt. Emmy Scott was…well, kind of a nerd by everyone’s opinion, including her own.

We stopped as we neared the gazebo, and I turned my head, seeing Michael’s piercing eyes lock with mine.

“We want what we want,” he explained, the weight of his soft words meaning more than I think he intended.

And my heart starting beating faster.

I glanced over to the guys, seeing Damon hold the bottle as Will lit the cloth, and I shook my head.

“I don’t like this,” I whispered, keeping my head down again. “Emmy’s a good person, and she worked her ass off on that gazebo. It was her senior project for Social Science. It got her into Berkeley.”

She’d built the gazebo a year ago last summer, and while she may have been thrilled to get out of here and go off to college, she’d certainly put everything she had into that gazebo, as well as a few other little projects she’d built around town.

Michael tipped his chin up. “He’ll make it right,” he assured. “Let him go through his shit.”

And then, before I could say anything, I saw a flash of light fly through the air. I held my breath as the bottle crashed into the gazebo, an explosion of flame bursting forth and drowning every inch of wood in fire.

“Oh, Jesus.” I shot my hand to my forehead, guilt filling me up. “I’m not watching this. This is a dick move!”

I spun around, but Michael grabbed my arm. “You stand with us or you can go home,” he warned.

I yanked my arm out of his grasp, scowling up at him.

I didn’t want to go home.

But this wasn’t fun, either. They were being assholes, and if I didn’t stand my ground, he’d always see me as weak.

I stalked off, back toward to the street to where the car sat.

Screw them. I’d find an open business and call Noah to pick me up.

Pulling open the car door, I dug inside the back pocket of Kai’s seat where I’d stuffed my phone and pulled it out, slamming the door.

The fire blazed only a short distance away, and several excited voices rang out around me.

“Oh, shit!” someone called, noticing the blaze.

There were more gasps and a few excited laughs. Certain people knew what to expect on Devil’s Night and had probably been waiting for it.

I ignored them and swiped the screen of my phone, dialing 911. Maybe the fire trucks had gotten back through.

I hesitated a moment, not wanting to get the guys in trouble, but then I remembered that they didn’t get in trouble.

Fuck it. I pressed Call.

“Stop!”

I jerked my head up, seeing Officer Baker across the street in the park. My stomach dropped.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance