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“Ms. Pruitt?” Monti finally asked, her voice calm and quiet. She didn’t want to startle Athena. “Are you ready for the craniosacral massage?”

“The what?”

“Your scalp.” Monti held herself still. “I’ll need to stand behind you.”

“Yes.”

Monti stood up slowly. She moved with care, wanting to make sure that Athena was aware of where she was at all times. Monti brushed the pads of her fingers over the clip holding her hair in the ponytail at the nape of her neck. “Can I take this out? I won’t tangle your hair as much.”

Athena said nothing as she reached up and slipped the clip out. Monti touched her shoulder briefly. “Let me know if you want to stop. Please.”

“I will.”

Monti started at the front of her head. She took everything slowly and step by step. She worked methodically. Athena rested back into the chair, her shoulders tightening and then relaxing. Her hands on the arms were lax, fingers loose. Her breathing became deeper, slower.

Almost scared to look, Monti was certain she had fallen asleep. She finished the massage and slowly moved around the chair. Athena rested with her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, completely asleep. Smiling, Monti moved to the wall of books and snagged one she’d never read before.

The Tao of Pooh.

Monti sat in the chair she’d left before, sent Fallon a quick text to let her know she was successful and to bar anyone from entering the library, and then she started reading. She could get lost in a book while Athena slept. It was all the payment she needed.

two

Gasping with a start, Athena jerked awake.

She curled her fingers around the arms of her favorite wingback chair in the library, one of the few places she ever felt comfortable. The room was dim, only the lamp in the corner and the one on the table turned on. Her eyes were so damn blurry that it was hard to see, but she wasn’t willing to release the chair yet. She might need her hands free.

Athena blinked to try and clear the sleep from her gaze. She slowed her breathing and her heartbeat, then turned to find Monti, sitting in the chair opposite hers with a mug almost to her lips, a book resting on her thigh, and one ankle crossed over her knee.

“Before you ask, it’s been three hours,” Monti said, her voice that same calm it had been when she’d started the massage. “No one has been in here except me and Fallon.”

Athena released a breath, the tension that had been riding in the top of her chest falling almost immediately. Well, as much as it ever did, because if she paid attention, it never completely vanished. She rolled her shoulders and released her grip on the arms of the chair.

Three hours.

Straight.

Without interruptions.

That was honestly the most sleep she’d had in one go in weeks. Athena looked around her library, blinking. Her brain wasn’t catching up fast enough with what was actually happening. “What time is it?”

“A little after six.”

Athena held in the curse. She had so much work to do, work that couldn’t be missed. She was lucky that she hadn’t missed any scheduled meetings. Brushing her hand through her hair, Athena stopped. Her hair was still down around her shoulders, loose. Monti had pulled the clip out and set it on the table.

One quick glance told her it was still there.

She’d never been comfortable sleeping with strangers in the vicinity before. Why was this so different? It was probably because she was so exhausted that her body had just given in. Athena pursed her lips and glanced at the book on Monti’s thigh.

She’d read that one multiple times. Monti must have caught the direction of her gaze, because she closed the book and set it on the small table between the chairs.

“I didn’t think you’d mind if I read while you slept.”

“It’s a library.” Athena stopped there, the rest of the sentence obvious. Books were meant to be read, and she wouldn’t have them there just for aesthetics. But Monti wouldn’t know that. They’d never met before, and despite Fallon’s several mentions of her elusive sister, Athena hadn’t cared to pay too much attention.

“How are you feeling?” Monti’s tone was back to that smooth quality, which immediately reminded Athena of a therapist’s office.

She’d been in those enough over the years and none of them had helped. She watched with rapt curiosity as Monti brushed a hand through her short hair, the soft brown strands popping back into place. Monti Schroeder was a curiosity if Athena had ever met one. Monti was unlike her sister—casual, relaxed, clearly smart—to the point they were almost complete opposites.