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When Arwyn’s lip twitched, Sloane’s chest ached. She’d gotten the joke.

“I figured I’d share the beauty of my interior design with the world,” she replied before apparently thinking better of it. Arwyn cleared her throat and averted her eyes.

The silence cut between them like a blizzard roaring in through a shattered window. Sloane clutched the last bit of warmth to her chest and refused to let it go out.

“Have you found anything new?” Sloane asked, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets.

“Not yet,” she admitted, “but I just know there’s something here. It’s not like this is Hannibal Lecter we’re talking about. He’s not an evil genius.”

“I didn’t intend for this to take so much of your time,”

Sloane replied, uncomfortable with how much work she’d put into something that wasn’t hers. “You’re supposed to be backing me up, not going HAM on this, plus I looked through this stu all night. I didn’t see anything weird. It’s the same boring purchases you’d expect. Fast food, groceries, gas, dry cleaning, dog food. . .”

Arwyn smiled, exposing her dimples as she looked down before scratching the back of her neck. Sloane preferred the days when Arwyn opted for glasses instead of contact lenses.

When Arwyn’s gazed returned, her face was flushed with color. “When have you known me to half ass anything? I’m full ass or bust.”

Sloane smirked. “You should put that on a bumper sticker.”

“I wonder how many I’d sell,” she joked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And anyway, eventually I’ll need your help on my trials. I mean. There’s only the five of us, so.

. .”

Arwyn’s dark hair was distractingly glossy under the harsh fluorescent bulbs buzzing above them. Her olive skin was almost bronze in the artificial light, looking more beautiful than it had any right to be.

At some point after Arwyn’s joke, Sloane lost her sense of time and place. She was standing across the messy, round

table from Arwyn, close enough to smell the aroma emanating from her Miami SAO mug.

But she was also gone. Deep in a world-shattering kiss, overcome with the kind of desire that could split atoms with its intensity. Sloane’s heart ached. It had already been a couple of days, but she’d relived it so often, she could still feel the weight of Arwyn’s lips.

“Hey, you know this doesn’t have to be weird, right?”

Arwyn’s voice was a rope around her ankle yanking her out of the clouds.

“It’s not weird,” she snapped defensively, even tho

ugh it was so weird she could barely manage the tension in her guts.

In response, Arwyn raised her thick, but still nicely shaped eyebrows. “Really?” She chuckled, tightening the knot in Sloane’s stomach. “This is how we normally interact? All awkward pauses and averting direct eye contact?”

Sloane was usually the one weaponizing the un-gilded truth. Being on the receiving end of a direct question was so much more of an assault than she’d ever realized.

“Do you want to talk about it? I know I ran o the other day.” Arwyn looked down at her hands. “That was kind of embarrassing and childish. There’s no reason we can’t talk about this.”

There was a softness to Arwyn she hadn’t seen before. It was terrifying.

“Seriously, it’s cool. We kissed. It was a one-time thing.

We have to work together, and complicating that isn’t a good

idea. Plus, I don’t want the gossip following us around for years.”

Years. The word echoed in her mind as soon as she said it.

Sloane had no intention of staying a minute beyond her commitment date. Why had she said it like that?

“Right, yeah. Totally.”