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I sit upright, narrow my eyes on him with severe scrutiny and start patting at his clothes, looking for the keys to his bike because I am sure he came here on it, and the accident line is bullshit. If he thinks I’m going to sit back and watch him ride off into the night, he’s got another thing coming.

“What are you doing?” Dane sits up too, trying to catch my wrists as I slide my hands into his hoodie pockets, looking for them, and end up wrestling him while fighting to keep searching. Combatting his slower-than-usual responses and getting the upper hand because moving hurts him. Dane catches my hands, pins them behind my back, and yanks me into his chest so I can’t get loose. We end up nose to nose, with both of us half kneeling, half sitting, and breathing hard.

“I know your bike is out front, so don’t give me this bullshit. You plan on taking your things and leaving? I won’t let you. I’ll call your dad and tell him…. I’ll stop you.” I can’t conceal the anger in my voice or the fier