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“Some of us have responsibilities beyond looking pretty and sacking quarterbacks.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re impossible.” I started packing up my laptop. “And I really do have to go.”

“Go to dinner with me tomorrow to make up our study time.” The request, or command, came out casual, but there was nothing casual about the way he was watching me.

My heart did a stupid little flip. “That’s not part of the tutoring arrangement.”

“Maybe I’m tired of arrangements.”

For a moment, I was tempted. I kept pushing him away, and he kept trying. He was the last guy I expected to do that, especially when no other guy had. I was very, very tempted.

But that way lay madness. And probably heartbreak.

“Maybe another time.” I turned to go, then stopped. “But Flynn?”

“Yeah?”

I bit my lip, but that didn’t keep the words from coming out. “Ask me again, sometime.”

I left him sitting there, a slow grin spreading across his face. And if I put a little extra sway in my walk because I knew he was watching?

Well, that was my secret to keep.

When I got back to the house, Alice slapped a remote for the speaker into my hand. “He won’t eat the hay unless someone plays Taylor Swift or Kelsey Best,” Hannah reported during our daily status meeting. “And he only likes the old country albums.”

“Our donkey is a Swiftie?” Parker came in right behind me and looked delighted. “And a Bestie? That’s badass.”

“Our donkey is about to get us found out,” I reminded her. “Who needs to eat his dinner and take a nap so I can study?”

The dinner happened, studying not so much. But it wasn’t like I didn’t know most Shakespeare plays backward and forward. But I also had marketing, mythology lit, and my senior thesis class on Herman fricking Melville. Not to mention I was miles behind on my chapters.

I could only put off my agent, and FlixNChill, for so much longer .

Somehow I made it through the rest of the week without a panic attack. And I’d never admit it to anyone but baby donkey, but Flynn’s texts were keeping me going.

The morning of the awards ceremony, my phone buzzed with a text from Flynn.

Flynn: You haven't named the bonkey yet, right? Because I got it for sure this time.

I smiled despite myself.

Me: I doubt it.

Because unless he said Houdonkini, the great disappearing farm animal, he’d be wrong.

Flynn: Since I haven’t seen hide nor hair of our furry friend for weeks, you should call him Houdonki. Get it? Like Houdini, because he’s completely disappeared.

First of all, what the heck? How did he do that? And second, Houdonki was better than Houdonkini. But still not the right name for my favorite confidant.

“Are you sure he’s secure?” I whispered, peering down the basement stairs for the hundredth time.

“For the last time, yes.” Parker adjusted my collar. “The outside door is locked, he has hay and water, and Hannah set up that tablet playing farm animal videos to keep him calm.”

“He does love his YouTube,” Alice added, straightening the welcome banner .

I took a deep breath. We could do this. Just get through the ceremony, but then I really had to figure out a more permanent solution for our four-legged friend.

“Tempest,” Catalina’s voice carried across the foyer. “?Qué pasa, hermanita?”

My eldest sister swept in, immaculate as always in her black blazer trimmed with gold to match our sorority colors, with Rosalind right behind her. They’d both been active in the chapter during their college years, which was why I’d pledged KAT in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Rosalind’s eyes narrowed. “You look guilty.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” I forced a smile. “Just nervous about the ceremony.”

“Since when do you get nervous about anything?” Catalina raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

She had no idea. Before I could answer, Bettie called out, “Let’s go, ladies.”

A stream of alums and guests flowed through the front doors. I lost track of how many hands I shook, how many congratulations I accepted. Everything was going perfectly until?—

“Dad, this is amazing.” A familiar voice cut through the crowd. “Mom lived in a house like this at University of Los Angeles?”

I froze. No. No way.

But there he was. Flynn Kingman, looking devastating in a suit and standing next to his father. In my sorority house. Where I was hiding a donkey.

“Ooh, who’s that?” Catalina nudged me. “Wait, isn’t that?— ”

“No one,” I said quickly. “Just a guy on the football team who is in my Shakespeare class.”

“Just a guy?” Rosalind’s way too observant eyes turned predatory. “The way he’s looking at you suggests otherwise.”

I risked a glance. Flynn was indeed looking at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. The same smile he’d given me in the coffee shop the other day when I told him to ask me out to dinner again sometime.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The National Board President tapped her glass for attention. “If you’ll all gather in the main room...”

Everyone began migrating toward the ceremony space. I tried to slip away to check on the donkey one last time, but Catalina linked her arm through mine.

“Oh no, hermanita. You’re staying right here where we can watch whatever this is.”

The ceremony started with the usual formalities. I barely heard them, too aware of Flynn standing off to the side, occasionally whispering something to his father. Every time I glanced back, he was watching me.

“And now,” the national president continued, “I’d like to share some history about April De la Reine’s impact on our organization...”

A muffled sound came from below. My heart stopped. No one else seemed to notice, but Flynn’s head tilted slightly.

Then he moved, quietly slipping toward the back of the room.

No no no.

I couldn’t follow him without drawing attention. Couldn’t text him without being obvious. Could only sit there, heart pounding, as he disappeared into the hallway.

Maybe he just had to use the bathroom?

Another sound, louder this time. Like a very distinctive bray.

Mierda. A very unpleasant rush of pins and needles ran along the back of my neck.

“Are you okay?” Catalina whispered. “You look like you’re about to throw up.”

Before I could answer, there was a crash from the basement. Then the thunder of hooves on stairs.

“Holy donkey balls,” Flynn’s voice rang down the hallway.

And then chaos erupted as a baby donkey wearing a KAT bandanna burst into the ceremony, followed by a very startled-looking Flynn.

“Is that...” Rosalind’s eyes went wide. “Tempest, why is there a donkey in the sorority house?”

“Would you believe it’s our new mascot?” I managed weakly.

The donkey trotted straight to the podium and began nibbling on the national president’s dress. Well, at least he had good taste in fashion.

If I knew how to faint on command, I would. Right now. But knowing my life, I’d swoon right into the arms of Flynn Kingman.