“Since never. I have someone over.”

Her eyebrow shot up. Even Sul, Mr. Mountain of Impassivity, stared wide-eyed. “In the middle of the afternoon? Or from last night?”

“What do you think?”

She pursed her lips, twice. No sound came out, twice. Sighed. “Sul, could you whistle suggestively for me? I’ve been practicing, but it’s so hard.”

Sul obeyed—quite skillfully—like the whipped lovesick idiot he was.

“Thank you, babe. So we interrupted you, Eli?”

“Yup.”

“Sad.” A pained nod. “But whose fault is it for not canceling today’s dinner in advance?”

He gave her the finger just as Hark let himself inside. “Hey.” His hair was coated in tiny droplets of rain. “Did your sister finally get a new car? High time.”

“Nope.”

“Then whose Kia is in your driveway?”

“Eli has someone over,” Minami singsonged. “He’d forgotten that he was supposed to make us risotto.”

Hark’s eyes were outraged as he held out two bottles. “Does this Verdicchio I extensively researched and bought to pair with it mean nothing to you?”

“Less than.”

“Fuck off,” he said mildly, glancing at Sul and Minami. “I’m going back to my place and ordering pizza.”

“Leave the Verdicchio,” Eli ordered.

“As I already mentioned, you can fuck right off.”

“It’s okay. I’m leaving.”

They all turned toward the new voice. Rue was coming down the stairs, one hand on the banister as she stood on the landing.

Eli’s heart thudded. His brain couldn’t compute.

After their shower, her dark hair had dried in wilder curls than he was used to. Barefoot, heavy-lidded, and with no makeup and a blue-tinted mark that Eli had definitely sucked on her throat while coming inside her, she was absolutely breathtaking. Lush and full and so deeply fucked and fuckable.

You’re not. You’re not leaving. You’re staying till I’ve had my fill, and a little past that.

But her eyes were guarded, and the silence tense. It occurred to Eli that he’d never told her that his friends would be from Harkness. And they had not expected the woman upstairs to be Rue.

Minami was the first to recover, shooting to her feet with a wide smile. “Rue! It’s lovely to meet again.”

Rue descended the stairs. “Nice to see you, too.”

Minami leaned forward to hug her—a bit of absurd comedy, considering that Rue was nearly a foot taller, and clearly unsure as to what was happening. He watched her stiffly reciprocate, debating between being amused and going to her rescue, but Minami kept the matter brief. “Don’t leave—let’s all have dinner together! It’s always the four of us. I’m bored to tears with these three.”

Eli’s muttered “wow” came at the same time as Hark’s snorted “harsh” and Sul’s stoic “we’re married, but okay.” Minami’s smile held a let’s be friends invite, but Rue seemed uneasy and replied, “I’m not sure it would be appropriate.”

The atmosphere thickened. Suddenly, the room wasn’t populated by Eli’s friends and the woman he was seeing, but by Florence’s protégé and those who sought to take over Kline. Rue against the world, out of place and alone and uncomfortable.

She often looked exactly like that, and as long as Eli had any say in it, she was never going to be made to feel that way on his watch. “If anyone’s leaving, it’s them,” he said firmly. His eyes held Rue’s, until Hark added gruffly, “Thank you, asshole. Rue, we should all have dinner together. It’s obvious that Eli wants you here. He’s the birthday boy, after all.”

“It’s your birthday?” Rue’s eyes widened. “It is your birthday,” she said, maybe recalling his driver’s license. “I . . . Happy birthday, Eli.”

His heart skipped a beat, then thumped loudly in his chest. If they’d been alone, maybe he’d have told her, Thank you, Rue. You gave me the best birthday I’ve had in a decade. Or maybe not.

“Eli doesn’t like people to acknowledge his birthday in any way,” Minami warned. “We may gather to celebrate it, but we may not admit to why we’re gathered.”

“And it doesn’t have to be weird,” Hark added gruffly. “Our counsel would advise us not to talk about anything Kline related, anyway.” Rue remained quiet, so he added, “Besides, I parked behind your Kia, and you’re going to need some crazy maneuvers to get out. Are you good at that stuff ?”

She winced. “Absolutely not.”

“Then you really need to stay. You can’t make me move my car; it’s raining and Eli fixed the cracks in the driveway by himself. It’s quicksand out there.”

Minami laughed. Sul smiled, and so did Hark, this time sincerely. Rue just looked at Eli, as if asking for guidance. “Stay,” he said in a low but audible tone, and after a long pause she nodded.

“Okay. Thank you for having me.”

Relief rammed hard into him. “Let me go make this fucking risotto you dickheads ruined my Saturday for.”

“Gotta love a warm welcome,” Minami said, before chatting Rue up. Eli couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he trusted Minami to be decent. Unlike Hark, who followed him into the kitchen with a deep scowl.

“I’m assuming you’re here to put the Verdicchio in the fridge?”

“Wrong. Try again.” Hark set the bottles on the table. “What the fuck are you doing, Eli?”

He crossed his arms. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like if you stared at that girl any longer you’d have jizz coming out of your eyeballs.”

“Woman. And: classy.”

“And it looks like you’re doing Florence Kline’s friend. And it looks like you brought her into the house you share with your very young sister.”

“Maya’s in her twenties. She has people spending the night all the time.” Hark’s scowl deepened. “Dude, what is your deal?”

“How long has it been with Rue?”

“On and off, a few weeks.”

“Jesus, Eli. Aren’t there other women?”

“Sure, but I don’t want them.”

“What about the racquetball girl?”

He frowned. “Who?”

“The one we met when—”

“Stop right there. I don’t want Racquetball Girl, or any other girl, because they’re not Rue.”

“Oh, come off it. What’s the real reason?”

“This is the real reason. I like her. She’s a wonderful lay and she smells amazing and I love having her around. Do you want to read my fucking diary?”

“No, I want you to remember that things are heating up, and we’re closer than ever. Have you considered the possibility that Florence might be using her to find out shit from us?”

Eli did, right then, for all of a second. “She isn’t.”

“How can you be so sure? Because you have discovered the heights and the depths of sweet star-crossed love with her?”

“Because she never brings up Kline. Because I have been pursuing her. And because she’s not the kind of person who’d do that.”

“And you know her so well. All of what, two hours?”

“I know her well enough.”

“Goddammit, Eli. How serious is—” He interrupted himself, and when Eli followed his gaze, he saw Rue in the doorway.

He wondered how much she’d overheard, but her face was inscrutable as she asked, “Do you need any help with the cooking, Eli?” She ignored Hark, who, to his credit, managed to look contrite. He brushed past Rue with a murmured “excuse me,” and Eli was just glad to be alone with her again.

It was fundamentally fucked up, this feeling that his friends of over a decade were intruding on his life with Rue—a woman who would pour a Class 8 chemical down his nostrils for Florence Kline. Or even just recreationally. And yet, here he was.

Smiling at her.

His heart skipped when she smiled back faintly.

“Are you trying to steal my secret recipe, or do you just feel weird being with Harkness people in the other room?” he asked.

“The latter. I . . . I’m not very good with people I don’t know.”

“Ah.” Eli readjusted his mental image of Rue. She’d always been self-assured with him, at ease ever since the first night. He’d noticed that she seemed to be more reserved with others, but he’d chalked it up to a slightly aloof personality, not social anxiety. “Is this recipe secret, too?” she asked.