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Tucker’s gut hung over his belt, “Cutting it too close, you two.”

We both nodded, and for once Trystan was quiet.

Tucker dabbed beads of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and led us to his massive closet. It looked like a bomb went off. Papers, books, and plays were everywhere. There was no order, no way to find anything. The gruff man pocketed his hankie and walked into the closet and flicked the light on.

“
The two of you will be doing this for the rest of today. Clean it. Make it look brand new. You,” he said pointing to me, “Pay attention because Scott will forget.” I glanced at Trystan, wondering if it bothered him that the teacher thought he was a moron. I wondered if the forgetfulness was an act.

Tucker pointed a chubby finger at the dusty shelves. “Novels there, plays there, and textbooks there. Roll up the posters and put them in that box. Just make it clean and organized with the rest of this stuff. Put the old stuff we don’t use on the top shelves.” I open my mouth to ask how we can tell which stuff is old, but Tucker cut me off, “You’ll know. If it looks like something from a previous decade, shelve it. Funding is too dismal to throw anything out,” he grumbled, walking out of the closet.

While he showed us where to put things, Trystan and I hung back in the doorway looking in. His classroom was empty since it was Tucker’s lunch hour. The sound of the clock ticking filled my ears. When Tucker exited the closet, he shoved in a chair to stand on and held open the door. I walked through and surveyed the mess. When I looked up Trystan was still standing on the other side of the door.

“
Get in there, Scott,” Tucker said, pushing on Trystan’s back, making him step into the closet with me. “And if I find out that she did all the work, your free period tomorrow will suck even more. Get to it.” Tucker released the knob and the heavy oak door closed. We were alone.

Trystan breathed in deeply, which made him sneeze. It was insanely dusty in there.

“
It’s not that bad,” I said to him, trying to move the chair to the other corner. The closet was a walk-in. It had shelves that stretched floor to ceiling. There was just enough room for Trystan and me to move around without bumping into each other. If Tucker stayed we would have felt like sardines. Thankfully he left. Since it was his lunch hour, we wouldn’t see him again until the bell rang. I ran my finger over a shelf and it came up coated in white dust. “Gross.”

Trystan tossed me a damp towel that Tucker left behind with a small bucket. We wiped down the shelves, moving things around in silence. Eventually Trystan and I ended up shoulder to shoulder. He’d pick up something off the shelf and look at it while I wiped up the dust.

“
What the hell does he use this stuff for?” Trystan was holding a record in his hands, flipping it over. He glanced around, “There isn’t anything to play it on.”

I shrugged, “Maybe his mom gave it to him. It’s sentimental.”

Trystan snort-laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.” He cleared his throat and spoke in a girlie voice, “Here’s your present for getting a teaching job at Dilapidated High.” I smiled as he said it, trying not to laugh. When he did Tucker’s voice, I couldn’t help myself. “Oh! A linguistics record!” He pressed his hands together, “Just what I always wanted.” He impersonated Tucker down to the last syllable.

“
Stop it,” I laughed, snapping the dirty towel at him. “I don’t know about you, but I want to have time to eat something when we’re done.”

“
You think we’ll finish this in less than an hour? Are you insane?”

A tilt of my head said yes we will and no I’m not crazy. “This is nothing. It just looks messy.” I took the chair and slid it against the shelves so I could reach the top. “How about you hand me stuff and I’ll organize it and make it look nice.”

Trystan handed me records, posters, and other archaic teaching aides. I put them on the upper shelves as neatly as possible while we talked.

Trystan handed me another poster. I reached, trying to get it on the back of the top shelve with the others. The chair started to slip, but Trystan stopped it. His hands shot out, gripping my legs as I lost my balance and clutched the shelves.

“
Whoa. Easy, Mari.” Clutching the shelf, I laughed lightly and looked down at him. Trystan’s grip on my legs loosened, and he stepped back.

“
Sorry, I’m a bit of a klutz.” When I released the shelf my hands were shaking. I couldn’t hide it from him.

“
No, you’re fine. Where’s your lunch? I’ll go grab it. You’re probably just hungry.” I told him where it was and he turned to the door to get it, but when he tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t twist. Trystan looked at the knob, still gripping it in his hand. His shoulders tensed. “It’s locked.”

“
What?” I squeaked, climbing off the chair, and nearly falling into Trystan’s back. I hopped a step to keep from falling and only smacked into Trystan a little bit. The room suddenly felt too small. My heart was racing.

When my hand touched Trystan’s back, he jumped. He pressed his forehead to the door. I shoved past him to try the knob myself. When it didn’t open I felt insane, “Oh my God!” I beat my hands against the door, hoping someone was out there. “Help! Let us out!” I screamed.

Trystan grabbed my wrists, and stopped me. “No one is out there. Tucker’s at lunch. Don’t bother.”

I felt frantic. When I spoke, my voice was too high, too tense, “I can’t be locked in here. I can’t. There’s not enough air.”

“
Awh, fuck,” Trystan said pushing his hand through his hair. “You’re claustrophobic?”

“
No,” my voice was wispy and light. It hardly came out as I stared at the door unblinking. “I just don’t want to suffocate in a closet.”

He grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, “You won’t. Listen to me. It’s fine. There’s more than enough air in here. It’s the same as before.” I nodded slowly as he spoke, staring into space. Panic was licking at the inside of my belly making me jumpy. Trystan continued to speak in soothing tones. When I didn’t answer him, he pulled me down to the floor with him. We both sat against the door, hip to hip. “Put your fingers here,” he pulled my hand to the gap between the door and the floor. Cool air rushed over my fingers. There was a slight breeze, almost. The fear gripping my heart faded a little.

Looking over at him, I asked, “How’d you know that would help?”

“
You wouldn’t believe that I sleep in a closet under the stairs, would you?” I smiled a little and tried to fold my arms over my chest. Trystan held onto my hand, so I couldn’t move it. “Keep it there. Feeling cooler moving air helps.” I nodded and left my hands by the gap under the door. Trystan started to talk about other things, things that would distract me. While he spoke I wondered how much time he spent in small spaces. He was tense, every muscle wound tight like he hated it, but he didn’t freak out the way I did.

Eventually I asked, “You have it, too? Don’t you?”

Silence was my answer. Trystan smoothed his thumb over the back of my hand. Looking at the floor he said, “Maybe. I got stuck in the closet once when I was little. Spent an entire day there before they found me. At least we have light in here. For some reason it’s worse when it’s dark.” He stroked my smooth skin as he spoke. His gaze was distant, like he was remembering something he wanted to forget.

I nodded slowly, and took a deep breath trying to steady my pulse. “He’s going to kill us—Tucker, I mean. We didn’t do much.”

“
He locked us in a closet and left the room. I don’t think he’ll say anything to anyone,” Trystan said flatly.

After a moment, I ask, “How much time is left?”

“
I don’t know. My watch is in my locker. I took it off for gym and forgot to put it back on this morning.”

I glanced down at our hands between us, noticing the gentle way he stroked my skin. Trystan watched me. When I lifted my gaze, his eyes met mine. My stomach twisted and suddenly the locked door didn’t frighten me so much. Trystan’s eyes bore into me. I could feel it. Combined with his touch, I couldn’t breathe.

“
Mari,” he said softly, his eyes fixated on my lips like he wanted to taste them. When his blue gaze finally lifted to my eyes, it felt like I’d die. Every inch of my body was screaming for his touch, but my mind was chastising me, echoing Katie’s words of warning to stay away from him.

A kiss meant something. Trystan’s kisses didn’t. But that wasn’t enough to make me move. He turned toward me and lifted his hand to my cheek. His fingers slid across my face, slowly moving toward my lips. His gaze was intense, his breathing slow and steady. When his finger touched my lips, he leaned closer, closing the space between us. My heart pounded in my chest.

Frantic cries for help rang out in my mind. Where the hell was Seth when you needed him? I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t kiss him.

Trystan’s thumb was on my lip, stroking it like he savored the sensation. He leaned in painfully slow, stopping when he was within a breath of my lips. His hands laced back into my hair and I couldn’t move. Every inch of me wanted to feel his lips on mine. My mind was the only part warring within me. Trembling, I sat perfectly still, my eyes locked on his, watching him, waiting for the kiss I didn’t want. It would melt my brain. It would make me want him more.

Instead of closing the space, Trystan stayed there. Blinking slowly, he said, “Kiss me.” His voice was deeper than usual, his tone gentle. “Kiss me, Mari.”

The request made butterflies swarm in my stomach. Trystan’s hands were splayed on my cheeks. All I had to do was lean in. He was less than an inch from me. When he spoke those sexy words, his breath on my lips made me shudder. I didn’t want the moment to end, but this wasn’t real. This was Trystan locked in a closet with a girl and making the most of it. Kisses didn’t mean anything to him and I’d already given him one of mine. He couldn’t have another.

When the thought crossed my mind, I pressed my lips together and looked down. It broke the eye contact that had me paralyzed. My pulse roared in my ears. It felt like I couldn’t suck in air fast enough. Trystan’s hands slid down to my shoulders, and he pulled me to him, holding my forehead to his. He closed his eyes, breathing hard. Neither of us moved. We sat like that too long. I savored the feeling of his hands on my shoulders, feeling their strength and warmth, and pictured them holding me tight.

It felt like forever, but it could have been only a few minutes. I don’t know. But when we heard footfalls coming toward the closet, we broke apart. There was remorse in his gaze, almost like Trystan didn’t want this to end. It made my heart lurch, but I let him go. Trystan jumped up and sat on the chair. The way he looked down at me broke my heart. There was a haunted expression in his eyes. It was the one he hid at all cost. It only appeared when he was really upset and today it was crystal clear.

CHAPTER 20

~TRYSTAN~

When Tucker closed the closet door, Trystan’s heart slapped into his ribs. He swallowed hard and tried to ignore it. Ever since he was a little kid, he didn’t like being confined to small spaces. His father had thrown him in a dark closet too many times to not be affected by it. At least there was a light in here. And it’s not like they were locked in. Trystan followed Mari’s lead and helped her clean until she nearly fell. Things changed after that. Finding the door locked, Trystan tensed even more. It wasn’t until he realized Mari was freaking out that he snapped out of it.

Sitting with her was bliss. Trystan tried to be content feeling the smooth skin on her hand, but he wanted more. He needed her. They’d be good together. If she gave him a chance she’d see it. But Trystan knew he’s said too many things too many times for her to give him that chance. She’d be crazy if she did.

After a moment, Trystan noticed her gaze on his hand. She watched him slide his thumb across her skin and when she looked up at him, Trystan couldn’t help it. The way her eyes met his, like she was frightened. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to hold her close and tell her it would be okay, but all he could do was return her gaze. Every second he maintained that connection was another second he knew he loved her.

“
Mari...” He breathed her name like it was life. Watching her, he felt the pull—the magnetic lock—that drew him to her. Those pink lips were so smooth, so perfect. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to learn the curves of her mouth and feel her kiss him back. And not because she was rehearsing some lines from a play. He wanted her to kiss him back because she wanted to, because she felt something for him.

Trystan’s hand floated slowing toward Mari’s face. She sat perfectly still, her eyes locked with his, her breath slowly filling her body again and again. She seemed as hypnotized as he was. Trystan leaned closer to her, but instead of kissing her, he rested his finger on her lips. He traced his finger along her lower lip, feeling how soft it was before tracing the bow on her upper lip. Mari didn’t move. She seemed lost in his eyes. The fluttering in Trystan’s stomach increased to intolerable when he traded his pointer finger for his thumb. Rubbing his thumb gently on her lower lip, he thought about tasting that lip. He thought about leaning forward, closing the short distance between them, and kissing her.

But he couldn’t do that to her. She’d think he took advantage of her. No, she had to want him to.

“
Kiss me,” he breathed. His lips were so close to hers. She barely had to move, but it made all the difference. If she kissed him, it would be all right. His heart pounded wildly. Trystan’s skin felt like it was on fire. He’d never done this before and any girl this close to his lips would have kissed him instantly, but Mari didn’t move.

Lost in her gaze, he whispered, “Kiss me, Mari.” His heart soared when he said it a second time. Saying her name, asking her to kiss him made him feel every inch of his body. He burned for her touch. There was nothing he wanted more. Thoughts of Mari filled his mind every waking moment, and when he dreamed he thought of her.