Page 63 of Bookworm

I struggled for words. "You…you're such a…I can't believe you just said that about books."

Bo's eyes shifted to me then. "Really, Kent? That's what you're mad about?"

"He's a total idiot—"

"Hey!" Leif said.

"—and yet, he has the audacity to call books stupid?" I said with a huff. "How dare you, Leif George.Saying such horrible things, recording us like a sleaze and releasing it without our consent?You are not the guy I thought you were."

"I'm sorry?" Leif scratched the back of his head. "I figured you guys wouldn't mind. Again, I'll take it down, but other accountshave reposted it already. Without giving the original aka meanycredit," he sniffed. "Thieves."

My cheeks grew pink as Bo looked to me.

That word had taken on a whole new meaning, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

"Kent," he said, "it's your call."

I shrugged. "I guess he has a point. The video's already out. Not much we can do about it now. Though I always thought if I ever went viral it would be for something like having the world's largest collection of romance novels."

Both guys blinked then looked back to each other.

"Don't do it again," Bo warned.

Leif's easy smile came back as he inchedaway from the locker. "You got it, Iceman. I'll never mess with you and your girlfriend again. Sorry for hitting on her the first time. Though I thought she was hitting on me because…well, I'm me."

Bo didn't laugh. He let his glare speak for him.

Leif got the message and got the heck out of there.

Using Bo's distraction, I asked, "Hey, completely off topic, but what's your locker combination?"

"17, 29, 5," he said, rattling off the numbers as his eyes tracked Leif until he was out of sight. "Why?"

"No reason," I said, but before he could stop me, I had his locker open and was pulling out his books.

"Want to tell me what you think you're doing?" Bo asked, stepping up to me.

I swallowed then lifted my chin. "I'm carrying your books."

His brow furrowed. "Like hell you are."

"I've developed excellent upper body strength from my work at the library," I said. "The hardbacks are basically like lifting weights. Oh, don't give me that look."

Bo's face cleared. "What look?"

"The one that says 'You're crazy, Kent. I do all these pushups in the morning. I'm aguy. I can carry my own books.' Newsflash," I said, "I can too. These arms may struggle to do anything resembling a pushup, butI'm tough."

I flexed my biceps.

"See? Totally ripped. Just accept the help and let's go."

Bo seemed to be choking on something.

"Are you okay?" I asked in concern.

He was doubled over, good arm wrapped around his abdomen, and I was getting worried at the choked gasps he was making. But then, suddenly, the noises resolved themselves into something sounding like…no. It couldn't be. Could it?

"Are you…laughing?" I asked.

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