“Really, does he?” his brother asks, and then they're both standing up in unison and turning to face me. I swallow hard and take a drink of my soda to cover up my sudden nervousness. They're both looking at me like they can see straight through me. “Either way, you should just leave Jenica alone.”

“Unless …” his brother starts, and then they're all up in each other's faces again, glaring daggers. If they thought that small bit of information was going to dissuade me, it's done just the opposite. I want to know how she died, and why Ranger thinks she was murdered. Or why, after ten years, there's literally no information available either way.

“Let's go, Tobias,” Micah says, and I'm surprised that I actually did guess them correctly. Really, there's no way to be able to tell. As far as I can see, they're exactly the same in every way. Same hair, same eyes, same uniform, same voice. “I don't even know why we came all the way out here in the first place,” he murmurs, but then both twins pause on their way out and glance back at me. “Be careful out here. Strange things have happened on this campus.”

The twins turn and head for the door while I gape at their retreating backs.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” I call out, but it's too late. The twins disappear, closing the door behind them, and locking it. I never thought to ask where they got the key.

Culinary Club is my least favorite part of the week; the Student Council is intent on making my life hell. On Tuesday, Spencer grabbed me by the arms, and Ranger rubbed a hot pepper on my lips, making them burn. Today, I walked in the door and got a pie to the face.

As I stand at the sink, cleaning bits of banana and cream off my glasses, I notice that Spencer's missing. Not that I care. He's probably the meanest of the bunch.

Well … I glance over and find Church sitting in the chair in the corner, a glass of … something that looks like wine in a wineglass. I mean, it's probably not wine (probably some type of iced coffee), but the effect's the same. He looks like some sort of rich aristocrat, lording over his subjects.

My lip curls.

The way he looks at me, from those honeyed eyes of his, I can sense a deep well of cruelty just waiting to be tapped. When he smiles, I shiver. When he passes by me in the hall, I cringe. Pretty sure he's, like, a psychopath or something. Scares the crap out of me.

Turning back to the sink, I ignore him and finish cleaning up. A while later, the assholes send me down the hall to fetch some extra flour from the cafeteria. I jingle the keys as I walk, heading down the empty stone hall. But when I get into the cafeteria and over to the pantry, I see that the door's already cracked.

I decide that I don't care who the hell is in there, and throw it wide.

My mouth drops open, and I end up letting the keys fall to the floor.

Spencer is leaning over, his forearm on the shelf above a first year student's head. The boy is gaping up at him, Spencer's fingers gently touching his chin, their lips close. The asshole glances over at me with those stunning turquoise eyes of his and raises a dark brow.

“What do you want, Chuck?” he snaps, and the other boy blushes, ducking underneath Spencer's arm and shoving past me. He takes off at a run and disappears, leaving the two of us alone in the massive pantry.

“What were you doing to that guy?” I ask, bending down to pick up the keys. I slip them into my pocket and move forward, pretending like I don't give a shit that I'm in a tiny, dark little room with a guy who sort-of, almost tried to kiss me the other day.

But I can feel it, a sort of tension stretching between us that I refuse to acknowledge. Not only is Spencer Hargrove a jerk, but if he thinks I'm a gay dude, and he ends up being a gay dude … Kissing him would be wrong. And it couldn't lead to anything. Not that I'd want it to or anything.

“Doing to him?” he asks, standing up straight and watching me as I look through the shelves, searching for a sack of flour. “I wasn't doing anything to him. He was confessing his love for me.”

“His love?” I scoff as I turn around and find Spencer far too close to me. He pens me in with his arms on either side of my body and leans in close, his scent that woody warmth, like cedar and hyssop. His mouth gets far too close to mine for comfort, and I wish it was last week when I had that stinging pepper sensation all over my mouth. Then you bet your ass I'd kiss him back and burn him with that capsaicin.

“Yeah, it happens. I mean, not only are there gay and bi dudes at the academy, but it is an all-boys school.” Spencer drags his knuckles down the side of my face and captures my chin in his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “Sometimes even straight boys get lonely.”

“Is that what you're telling me right now?” I ask, breathing so hard I fog up my own glasses. “That you're just a lonely straight boy?” Spencer narrows his turquoise eyes on me, and leans in a little bit closer, our lips brushing together just barely and giving me the most intense jittery feeling of my entire life. I feel like I've just downed ten Red Bulls in straight succession.

“I've gotten dozens of offers over the past few years,” he says, biting his lower lip. His lids are a bit droopy now, and I'm tempted to punch him in the stomach and run. Instead, I just stand there and wait. “Maybe more, but … I've turned them all down. You're the first boy that's ever captured my interest.”

“Lucky me,” I drawl with a roll of my eyes, but our mouths are still so close, it's hard to concentrate.

“What is it about you?” he starts again, crinkling his brow, and sliding his fingers into the hair on the back of my head. “Something about that mouth …” And then he swears, turns away briefly, and then spins back to face me, pulling my mouth to his in a crushing, possessive sort of kiss.

My hands come up and cling to his blazer, and even though my first intention is to knee him in the balls, all I end up doing is opening my lips and letting him put his tongue down my throat.

Holy shit, that kiss! I think, giving an internal squee and trying not to melt into a puddle on the pantry floor. Spencer kisses as good as he bullies: hot, intense, crushing. It's too much, and I hate how good it feels.

He presses his body into mine, and I feel his hardness through his navy blue slacks. Good God. After a moment, Spencer pauses and chuckles, this warm, heady sound that travels through me and makes me shiver. “I've never kissed a guy before. Who knew you'd have such a hot mouth?” Spencer takes my chin in his hand and kisses me again, reaching down to grab my hand and put it over the bulge in his crotch. And then he moves his own hand like he's intending on grabbing mine.

Only … there's nothing to grab.

That, and I have a boyfriend. Back home in California, Cody's waiting for me, and I'm freaking cheating on him?!

Guilt surges up inside of me in a fierce wave, and I shove Spencer back as hard as I can with both hands. He's so not expecting it that he ends up falling on his ass, his head snapping back against the wall with a curse.

I race past him, forgetting the flour completely, and then retreat back to my room for the rest of the night.

There's no part of me that wants to pick apart what just happened. But I know that when I go to California for winter break, I'm going to have to tell Cody what happened. I have enough secrets to keep without having to worry about another one.