“Where’s Naomi?” Caine asks. “Shane told me who she is. And who the fucker is.”

“She had to run to the bathroom and clean herself up.” Margot’s voice is as calm as ever. “I accidentally spilled a drink on her.”

“Accidentally?” Caine questions, delighted by this treachery. “Look at you. It’s nice to see you embracing your villain era.”

I can’t do this. Can’t sit and wait and listen to my brother tease Margot. “I’m going to take a lap.”

Caine stands along with me, catching my arm. “You need to stop and sit down. Why are you so wound up over this? Let him say his piece to Claire. So what if he’s a dipshit? It’s up to her to decide not to talk to him.”

“Because he won’t give up,” I snap. “He’s been calling and texting the whole time she’s been with me.” I gesture vaguely. “This will only put her even more on his radar. He’s smart enough. He’s going to assume something is going on with Claire and me. That’s going to trigger his competitive side. He’s going to double down on trying to get back together with her now.”

Caine grabs my shoulder, giving me a light shake. “Stop trying to put out fires that aren’t burning yet.” Pausing, he pulls out his phone. “Shit, that was pretty profound. I’m putting that in notes.”

While he records his genius, I leave. I could be borrowing trouble, but my gut says I’m not.

It doesn’t take me long to find them. Keith and Claire are at the edge of the glow of the bistro lights. She looks tired, as if she’s been listening to him for hours instead of minutes. It’s selfish, but I’m glad she doesn’t look happy. I don’t want her to enjoy her time with him. I want her to see him for exactly what he is: a cheating, worthless piece of shit. I’ll stay back, not get involved. If she needs me, I’ll step in, but otherwise, I’m merely a spectator.

Awareness that I’m being possessive and possibly paranoid fills me, but I can’t bring myself to care. Claire hasn’t said anything to make me think Keith’s ever been physically violent, and I’ve never gotten that impression from him at work. Still, I don’t trust him, and there’s a first time for everything. If Keith decides he wants to fight, it isn’t going to be with Claire.

He’s talking with his hands, but that doesn’t mean anything. Keith’s an animated speaker, and as much as I don’t like him, his big personality makes him decent at his job. He has that easy charm that makes people trust him, and he’s aiming it at Claire.

Though whatever he’s saying to her now is pissing her off. Claire throws her hands up and storms away. She makes it a step. Keith catches her wrist in a movement that’s not violent so much as it is proprietary. It doesn’t matter. I’m moving before I can stop myself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” My voice carries across the open space.

They jump. I glare at where he’s holding her and realize he didn’t grab her by the wrist. He took her hand. A small but significant difference. What if she was storming away because she knew he would stop her? What if she wanted him to?

Keith glares at me. My attention is on Claire, trying to see if she’s unhappy I’ve intervened. She’s yanked her hand from his and looks stressed. Exhausted. But it’s not the expression I’d expect if I’d interrupted a conversation she wanted to continue.

“What is this?” He directs the question at Claire. “Why are you here with him?”

I don’t know what I expect her to tell him.

“It’s not your business,” she says calmly, more calmly than he deserves, in my opinion. “But I’m friends with Margot, his assistant. She’s friends with his brother, Caine, and we all wanted to grab dinner.”

He looks at me as though I might say something to contradict her. I keep my face blank. I already violated her trust by sharing our arrangement with Caine. If she wants to tell Keith I’m her chauffeur, I’ll back it up. Even though I wish I could tell him what we really are.

You don’t even know what you are, the voice of reason reminds me.

“Sure.” He doesn’t believe her, but Claire doesn’t cave.

“Naomi is probably wondering where you are. You abandoned her to talk to your ex-wife.”

I hold back a smile as she goads him. Keith’s frustrated, gritting his teeth. Sensing the near end of Claire’s patience, I can’t help but go for the finisher.

“You might want to check on her. Margot said something about a spill?” With that note, I decide it’s time to do what I do at the office. Pretend he doesn’t exist unless I absolutely must acknowledge him. Turning to Claire, I smile. “Ready to head back?”

Her smile might as well be a referee calling the fight in my favor. Keith sees it. If looks could kill, I’d be very dead, but there’s not much he can say if he believes he has a shot at making partner.

“Right.” The frustration in his exhale is satisfying.

To me, he says, “See you tomorrow.” To Claire, he says, “I’ll be in touch.”

Get fucked.

Claire makes a sound that’s somewhere in between irritated and dismissive. I say nothing. When he moves away, I turn to her. “You okay? That looked like it was getting intense.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s still trying to be friends.”

“I think he’s trying to do more than that.” I’m trying to feel her out, see if she realizes what he’s up to, which is trying to fuck her.

I’m surprised when she nods. “Probably.”

Before I can push for more, she touches my forearm. It’s lightning, more electric than the nudge of her foot in the kitchen. I love touching her. But her touching me? Incredible.

“Can we forget about him? I was having a good time.” Lowering to a stage whisper, she says, “It’s kind of fun watching your brother try to get Margot to pay attention to him. Am I a terrible person for thinking that?”

We begin to move back toward the table. “Not awful. But he’s completely in love with her now. I think she spilled a drink on Naomi. On purpose.”

“She didn’t.” Horror, delight, I can’t tell which is making Claire squeak.

“Pretty sure.”

“That’s mean.” She groans. “And I love it. I am a terrible person.”

“No, you’re just a person.”

My absolute favorite person.

TWENTY-FOUR Claire

On day twenty-nine, it pours. It’s been raining the past few days, the weather matching my mood. Since seeing Keith at the Alley, I feel like I’m waiting to be struck by lightning—and not the sexy kind. On the Shane front, there’s no mention of the two almost-kisses, and he doesn’t summon me for a hunt.

Anxiety grows alongside insecurity. Whatever I thought was building between us must have been in my head. I’ve bored him so much that he doesn’t even want to give me a farewell chase. I tell myself I should be grateful. I’m getting paid for nothing. Even so, I’m a tangle of hurt feelings and sexual frustration.

It’s my last evening, and we’re both in the living room. Real Estate Wreck is playing, but I’m not paying attention. I’m too busy stewing in irritation. I knew what this was walking in, so there’s no one to blame but myself for any dashed hopes.

“How’s the bite healing?” Shane’s question comes out of the blue.

“Fine,” I say quickly.

“Are you using the scar cream?”

“When I remember.”

It’s not that I want the bite to scar, as much as that I don’t mind if it does. After studying it with a hand mirror and a few contortionist tricks, I’ve decided I like it. Like the idea of having a physical memory of my time here, even if I wish it weren’t ending. I keep reminding myself that if he was going to ask me to stay another thirty, he’d have done it by now. But maybe? a voice inside me whispers.