Avery couldn’t breathe.
She was sitting on her bed, her heart pounding, her breaths coming rapidly.
After she’d read Lucas’ text she’d only managed a response of, What? What are you talking about?
It was feeble, and she knew Lucas would see right through it, if he’d come so far as to guess it had been her. He wasn’t stupid.
But how had he guessed? She’d been so careful, hadn’t she, to make sure that no one would find out? That it would only be her and Jamie who’d know what had happened—how had Lucas come to this conclusion? What had happened that made him think that?
She forced her breaths to even out and picked up her phone again. She sent a quick text to Jamie.
Lucas just asked me if I’m soccer midnight mystery girl. I don’t know what to do.
Luckily, his response came only a minu
