Page 211 of Boys Who Hunt

Heath pulls up his sleeves. “Okay, that’s it.”

“We’re together. All of us,” I blurt out just to stop the fight that’s about to start.

And it wasn’t just Sunny who heard me say it. The entire hallway did, and everyone, literally everyone, is staring at us.

Oh God.

I slam my hand in front of my mouth.

“What …?” Sunny says with a low tone, her face completely gone off the rails stone-cold. “You’re together, as in, the three of you?”

“Four, actually, if you count Silas,” Max says, with an obvious blush on his face. “But he’s only with her.”

“Silas …” she mutters. “Silashas a girlfriend?” Then she bursts out into laughter. “Oh my God, this is too funny.” She wipes away a tear, and her smile disappears almost instantly as she focuses her gaze onto Heath. “If it wasn’t for the fact that you’re fuckinghim.”

Max butts in and comes to stand between them. “Don’t start a fight on my behalf now, Sunny. It’s not worth it.”

“Fuck me …” Heath grunts, wiping his face.

“Sorry,” I say.

“It’s fine. I’m not worried about what anyone thinks,” Max says, shrugging it off. “And Sunny doesn’t get a say in who I date.”

“Whatever,” she says, shrugging too. “I’m not gonna protect you from Mom, though.”

“Then don’t tell her,” Max says.

“Like I have time,” she retorts. “Good luck with keeping this from her, though.” She puts her fingers to her lips and gives him an air kiss. “See ya later, lover boys.”

“Bye,” Heath growls at her. “Good riddance.”

Max slaps him on the chest. “C’mon. She’s not that bad.”

“She’s worse than that,” he says.

“She’s protective of me. That’s a good quality,” Max says.

“I’mprotective,” Heath says, pointing at his own chest. “She’s nosy. There’s a big difference.”

“Nosy or curious?” I say, winking to lighten the mood.

“Doubt it. She has boys literally lining up to fall over themselves to let her stomp all over their hearts. This whole foursome thing is nothing unfamiliar.”

“Noted,” I reply.

“But you already knew that,” Max says, checking his phone. “Anyway, let’s get to class. We’re late.”

“Shit,” I mutter to myself before running off.

Max and I walk into the room that we’re supposed to be in and swiftly wave goodbye to Heath, who has to attend a different class.

“Late again, Miss Clark?” The teacher, Mr. Alec Caruso, places his book down on the table and throws me a stern look. “And you, Mr. Fletcher. Out of all people, I’d expect to be on time.” He raises a brow at Max.

“I apologize, honestly,” Max says. “It won’t happen again.”

“It’d better not. Same goes for you, Miss Clark.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply, taking a deep breath.