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“Ami.” He stares into my face, then ducks down, his lips against my ear. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you at that courthouse.”

“No way,” I joke automatically. He tightens his grip in response, one hand sliding up my back, the other sliding lower, pulling me against him.

“It’s true,” he says, turning us again. “You were so different from how I remember you.”

I tip my head back to answer him. “So are you. Different.”

His smile grows a shade cocky. “In a good way?”

“Maybe. But I could tell you were up to no good,” I say, sticking with the truth.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a girl who likes a bad boy,” he teases me.

“Shut up,” I say, shoving down the conflicting feelings that are bubbling up. I feel close to him, I trust him. Like he knows me, and knows parts of me that no one back home took the time to notice.

How am I going to leave him after this? I wonder if there’s a way I can still see him again. Maybe I’ll get sent on another mission to Anchorage? Or we can meet up somewhere in the Midwest?

But what will he think of me after tonight? He’ll think I’m a traitor, dishonest. He’ll think I was tricking him all along.

In a way I was, but so much of this didn't feel like a trick. Our chats in the alley outside the market, him finding me there every day. Swimming together, dancing in this sweaty crowd. None of it feels like a trick.

The song ends too soon and Vale starts to tug me again, heading for the stage. The band is putting their instruments down and getting ready to take a break. Vale waves to one of the guys, his friend I guess, who waves back and motions to the side of the stage.

I stay close as we head there, and look all around, scanning the area behind the stage.

“Vale!” The guy spreads his arms for a hug and Vale lets go of me for a second to give his friend a bear hug before drawing me back, sliding his arm around my waist.

“This is my girlfriend, Ami.” My stomach flops over at the words.

The bass player smiles at me, genuine. “Nice to meet you, Vale’s girlfriend.”

“Ami,” Vale corrects. Then he cringes a little. “Hey, it’s super loud.”

“Yeah,” the guy agrees. “We’re heading up to take our break, want to come?”

That’s exactly what we wanted.

“Sure,” Vale says. “Let’s go catch up.”

“Come on.” The guy shouts introductions to the rest of the band, including Vale’s last name, which gets a reaction. Everyone seems to know about his dad and the Forge. Soon we’re all cramming into an elevator to go up to the “green room.”

I check out the buttons on the elevator: 1, 2, 3, 4, and basement. Okay, so no roof. But there must be a way up there from the fourth floor, right? The guy punches three and we all crowd in as the doors shut and we head up to the third floor.

The green room turns out to be an old lounge of dusty couches and coolers full of beer. Vale accepts one for him, nothing for me, and pretends to drink. We cuddle on one of the couches and chitchat with the guys in the band. Vale talks to them about coming to the Forge to play for a party there, and they’re excited to line up another gig.

I wait until they’re all engrossed in conversation and then stand up. Five pairs of eyes find me.

“Sorry. I’m just gonna find a restroom. I’ll be right back.”

“You okay on your own, babe?” Vale asks.

Babe?I want to answerof course, or maybedon’t call me babe, but I can’t be out of my character, the shy and retiring girlfriend of Vale Adamson. “Oh—uh, yeah. I saw it in the hall. You stay here, I’ll just be a minute.”

“Okay.” He and the guys settle back and keep talking about the gig. Vale’s eyes are on me as I tug my skirt, adjusting it down, and walk toward the door. Maybe I can find a stairwell.

I close the door behind me. I really did see a bathroom between here and the elevator, but I don’t need to use it. What I’d like is to see where the other doors lead, and find the stairwell. I’m wandering down to the end of the hall when I find a heavier door. Through the narrow window I see a set of stairs.Bingo!