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Another surprise. “What kind of illustration?”

“Digital character work, mostly. I’ve also worked with physical mediums, but most of it comes back to digital.”

We talk about that for a few minutes—where she went to school, what she ended up getting her degree in—though I can tell she’s not being completely transparent about some part of it. Which part, I don’t know, and I’ve got no right to press, so I file the detail away for later.

She seems to relax as the conversation goes on, and when the server drops off our drinks and Kenna takes a long sip, I try not to stare at her mouth.

“What about you?” Kenna asks. “What brought you to the Bureau?”

It’s my turn to give her a challenging smirk. “I’m one of the Bureau’s founders.”

Her eyes widen for a moment before she laughs softly and shakes her head. “Of course you are.”

I can see the wheels turning in her mind, but I’m suddenly not in the mood to talk about work anymore. Just the mention of my role at the Bureau brings some of those earlier shadows creeping back in. With them, another reminder about just how reckless all of this is.

“Are your friends going to miss you tonight?” I ask, reaching for a new topic.

Kenna arches a brow at the change in direction, and shifts again in her seat.

Closer. She’s definitely closer this time. A pulse of low, burning heat moves through me and I shift my position as well, drawn to her like a magnet.

“No. They’ll be fine. What aboutyourfriend?”

There’s an edge in her voice, something I’d almost think was jealousy if I didn’t know better.

“Friend?” I ask, knowing full well what she means.

“The blond.”

Ah.There it is. Clear this time, her brittle jealousy reaches in and tugs at the base of my lizard brain.

Good. It’s good that she’s jealous. And even better that she shifts closer again, fire kindling in her emerald eyes. I mirror her movement.

We’re within arm’s reach now.

“What blond?”

Kenna rolls her eyes. “The one you were all over outside the hotel. Right before you saw me.”

“Careful, ember,” I warn. “Or I might think you care.”

Like I hoped they would, the words rile Kenna’s temper, a vibrant spark that shines in her eyes and has her sitting up straighter in her seat.

“Answer the question, Blair.”

Again with that name. Ignoring the way it chafes, I lean closer to her, almost close enough to brush the shell of her ear with my lips.

“An old friend.”

“You looked pretty close to be just friends.”

“Is that so?”

Instead of answering right away, Kenna crosses her arms over her chest and settles back into her seat. She narrows her eyes, looks me up and down, and a small smirk curves her lips before she speaks.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

I stare right back, returning her appraisal with every bit as much insolence. “Yes, I think I am.”