Page 19 of The Last Love Story

It’s hot and dark inside—the monitors are going but the sound is down low. I know I need to move, but something on the screen catches my attention.

Two small redheaded children smile toothily up at a camera.

I can’t hear the audio, but captions pop up on screen:

The boat belonged to the CEO and founder of ULTRAPure, the lifesaving dialysis machine that has become increasingly expensive in recent years...

I blink, coming back to myself. An accident? The live stream pans over the wreckage of a megayacht, the sort that would be larger than the entire school. The Last War has never made it to American soil.

I shiver.

I have to move. I can look this up later.

I yank a chair over to the wall, clambering on top to tuck the book into the ceiling tile. I’m fumbling with the white, pocked surface when the door opens again. I fumble against the edge of the chair, swearing under my breath.

Hux slips inside, too rushed to notice me perched here.

I watch him disappear behind a desk, folding down to his knees briefly.

That’s when he sees me and freezes.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, all traces of the previous playfulness gone.

I hop off the chair. The book is hidden, but if he wanted to, he could probably find it. Of course, the same could be said for me and whateverhejust tucked away.

Mutually assured destruction, I guess.

“Same thing you are, I think,” I say, my voice low.

“This is not the time to play around, Hart,” he barks. It should be an empty threat, but he closes the space between us in three powerful strides.

“See, you always think I’m giving off playful vibes. What I’m going for is disdain. Not my fault you can’t discern between the two. Emotions not being your strong suit and all.”

He glares at me, and I glare right back. We’re almost chest to chest, and I have to crane my neck up to look at him. This close, I can see a muscle tick at the edge of his throat when he clenches his jaw. For some reason, it makes me grin.

Footsteps echo down the hall, and both our heads whip to the door.

They can’t find us in this room. This is all we have. Without it—

“Come on,” Hux says roughly. When I hesitate, his hand closes around mine and he pulls me to the door; I try and yank away, but he holds even tighter.

“The only thing worse than them finding this room is them finding usinthis room, Hux!” I whisper-shout.

He’s already working the handle. “They haven’t turned down the south corridor. We’re hearing the echo through the vent, but we have to gonow.”

The door opens with a blast of cool and somehow he still has my hand, leveraging it to pull us both out into the hallway.

The sound grows louder, closer. I twist to look behind us and the hallway seems to stretch forever. We can’t run. We’ll never make it to the classroom in time. At any moment, the Hammers will come around the corner and catch us.

“Great plan, Finn,” I bite out.

His face is tight as he stares down the hallway; that jaw works as he thinks. He lets out a huff as though making a decision, and then looks at me, his nostrils flaring slightly as his eyes find mine.

“Play along,” he says, voice almost a growl.

“With what?” I ask, but we’re out of time. The footsteps get closer, and so does Hux.

With one decisive stride, he’s backed me up against the wall next to the server room door. I don’t even have time to process what is happening before his hand is cupping my jaw. And then Huxley Finn is kissing me.