Page 92

He gives me a mock pout. “You don’t want to be my baby?”

“You’re being purposefully infuriating.”

“There’s no one I want to purposefully infuriate more than you, Dani.”

It’s a ridiculous statement, but I feel my cheeks heat all the same. I shove another forkful of eggs into my mouth to save me from answering, pointedly looking away from him.

“Do you have to go in today?”

I shake my head. “No. Although I’m sure Nate and Vera will be tracking me down at some point.”

“Sounds like we have plenty of time to shower then.”

“We?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s another tick off my top-ten list.” He gestures to my plate. “If you hurry, I’ll let you wash my back.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I am not washing your back.”

He grabs his plate from the counter, slipping from his seat and moving around me as if to take it to the sink. He pauses on the other side of me, leaning in close to let his lips hover against my jaw.

“Mm, but I’d be happy to wash yours,” he murmurs. His mouth presses a chaste kiss to my skin. “And something tells me it won’t take much convincing for you to return the favor.”

I say nothing as he saunters off with his plate, not trusting myself to answer.

Especially since he’s probably right.

Twenty-Three

Dani

I’ve had morethan twenty-four hours to prepare myself for what will surely be a full-on onslaught when I arrive at the firm on Monday, but I should have known it wouldn’t be enough. Something that is made evident to me within five seconds of stepping down the hall.

“Danica Joan Pierce!”

I wince at the use of my middle name. My mother has been and always will be a die-hard fan of the Runaways. I suppose there are worse things to be named after than the queen of rock and roll.

“Lots of work to do,” I call over my shoulder as I start an awkward maneuver toward my office that is somewhere between skipping and trotting.

I can hear twin sets of footprints hot on my tail. “Dani!”

I actually try to slam the door on the pair of them, but Nate shoves his foot in the space to stop me. “Ow! Really? What are we, seven?”

“Seven would be a step up for you,” Vera snarks.

Nate’s hand grips the edge of the door. “You’ve been ignoring our texts. Do you have no respect for our group chat?”

“I haven’t beenignoringyou,” I lie weakly.

Vera shoves her shoulder against Nate’s hand and peeks around the door. “We haven’t heard from you since you abandoned us in the less-fun version of the Boddy Estate.”

“Are you implying that murder makes a place more fun?” I ask with an arched brow, finally easing the door open wider.

“Well,” Vera huffs, following Nate into my office. “A murder investigation would have been a hell of a lot more fun than the string quartet.”

Nate scowls, pointing a finger at Vera. “Stop making references I don’t understand.” He turns to aim that finger at me. “Tell us what happened between you and Ezra or else.”

“Or else?” I cross my arms. “Really?”