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I ’m antsy. Wandering around my apartment and trying to calm my nerves. The next sample is coming tonight. I even left the lab early to ensure I wouldn’t miss Valen.

He’s arrived every night as he promised, but for the last two it was only for a few moments. No more secret messages, nothing passing between us other than barely tolerating each other. I’ve given up on trying to get a sample directly from him, at least for now, and he hasn’t been inclined to talk. In fact, if anything, he seemed hurried. Maybe it’s better this way. Transactional. Cold. From what Candice told me, he’s the enemy. From what Juno told me, he’s not. Damn, which is it?

I stop at the windows and look toward the lights of the White House. A pang echoes through my chest. Juno is there. Candice, too. I’d even like a chance to see Vince in all his grumpy glory. But I can’t visit them no matter how badly I want to. Juno’s warning was clear. But did she know how much it would hurt? We’ve always been so close, even when I was in med school. Even when she was on the campaign trail. This separation is as painful as it is confusing, as it is terrifying.

Loneliness isn’t new to me. But the aching rawness of whatever danger Juno is in, coupled with my semi-exile, is a weight that seems to grow heavier each day. How am I going to handle days, months, maybe even years of this? Of not knowing why this is happening or what I can do to help her?

“Ugh!” I press the heels of my palms into my eyes and rub.

A doorbell rings.

I spin and look around. “I have a doorbell?” I ask the quiet apartment.

“Dr. Clark. May I come up?”

I follow the sound of the voice to a small console in the hallway. Gage appears on the screen, an easygoing expression on his face.

“Sure,” I say. But he doesn’t seem to hear me. There’s a button beside the screen, so I press it and say ‘sure’ again.

This time he nods. “I already have access to your floor, but I didn’t want to waltz in uninvited. Be there in a few.”

Well, isn’t that refreshing? After Valen’s constant barging in, this is a nice change of pace.

I turn toward the elevator doors, then wonder if I should try to change clothes. I’m wearing sweatpants and an old Care Bears t-shirt that’s seen better days. I wasn’t expecting company—no one except Valen, anyway.

The doors open before I have a chance to move, and Gage strides in, a paper bag in one of his hands.

“Hi.” He gives me his confident smile.

I should probably chide him for not wearing a mask, but I have to admit it’s nice to see his face.

“Hey.” I give an awkward little wave. “What’s up?”

He raises the brown bag. “The boys and I got a lucky requisition, and I figured you might want to share.”

“Depends on how lucky we’re talking.” I eye the bag, silently hoping for chocolate or something with caramel or even pears. Hell, I’d take a grapefruit at this point if it means I get fresh citrus.

“Where’s the kitchen?” he asks.

“This way.” I lead him down the hall. “Welcome to the Washington Suite. It’s for fancy folk only, so please mind your manners.”

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.” He puts the bag on the counter and reaches in. “Tada,” he says as he pulls out two bottles of beer, each label stamped with the outline of a naked lady giving a salute.

I raise a brow. “You brought me alcohol?”

He shrugs. “I thought you might like it, but if not—” He makes to put the bottle back in the bag.

“Don’t be hasty.” I reach out and grab it from him.

His smile reappears, a dimple showing up in his left cheek. “I figured you’d enjoy one. The brewery only has enough ingredients to make small batches. I can’t promise it’s as good as one from the old days, but it’s better than the homemade swill you can get around these parts.”

“I won’t look a gift beer in the hops.” I dig around in the drawers and find a bottle opener.

“Allow me.” He takes it from me, our hands brushing for a moment. Then he opens both bottles.

“To science.” He holds his up.

I clink mine to it, then we both take a swig. Hoppy, maybe a bit more bitter than what I used to drink before the plague, but damn, it’s not bad at all. “Nice.” I smack my lips.

“Agreed.” He takes another swig and loops his finger around the bottleneck in that particularly masculine way. “Now tell me how I get to live in digs like this. Did I miss out when I got my degree in IT and went to Officer Candidate School or what? I guess I should’ve been a doctor.” He sighs.

“No, you should just have a sibling who’s president. Easy as pie.” I take another swig, enjoying how oddly normal this seems. Just having a beer with a friend. But is he really a friend? I guess he’s more like a spy, but he’s helping Juno. He’s on our side.

“I’ll have to work on that.”

I realize I know nothing about him. In the short time I’ve been here I’ve learned Aang has a boyfriend just outside of San Francisco, Gretchen misses her pet cat Artemis, Evie can twirl a fire baton and left a bevy of men and women longing for her when she left Johns Hopkins, and Wyatt plays guitar—badly. But I haven’t gotten to know Gage. Of course, I did try to get to know my Secret Service agent: attempt DOA.

“Where are you from?” I ask.

“Oh, a small town in Alabama. Nowhere you’d know.”

“I knew you had a twang to your voice. I was thinking maybe Florida man.”

His eyebrows scrunch. “Shots fired. I could only dream of making headlines as ‘Florida man.’ No, I do stupid things just fine without adding that to my resume.”

I drink more and watch him, a lot of questions flitting through my mind as he watches me right back. “So why do I get the honor of the special beer?”

“I just figured I should get in good with the person who invents the cure, that’s all. Maybe I’ll get fame by association.” He finishes his bottle.

I don’t believe him for a second, but I don’t feel like calling him a liar either. It’s nice to have someone else in my apartment with me, someone who doesn’t make my stomach tight or my face flush the way Valen does. This—standing here and sharing a beer with Gage—seems almost easy compared to the minefield Valen has come to represent.

“All right.” He searches around my cabinets. “I’ve got to go check in at the barracks.”

“Beside the sink.” I point.

He pulls open the trash. “Rich people always hide their trash. That’s right.” He drops his bottle in, then moves closer, standing just askance and looking down at me. “If you’re interested in the brewery, check the label before you throw it away. See you tomorrow, Doc.” He keeps going, and I follow him to the hall.

I don’t look at the label right away. Not when I suspect it bears a secret message I’m meant to deliver to Valen. For the slightest moment, I’m a bit disappointed that Gage is here for work, not to actually share a beer with me. But I bat that vapid thought away. Of course he’s here doing his job. “Thanks again for the beer.”

“Sure thing.” He runs a hand through his copper hair and hits the elevator button. “Hope we can do it again soon.”

“I’ll take a free beer anytime.” I lean against the wall and tap my fingers along the bottle.

“Good to know. I’ll add it to my list.”

“You have a list?”

He smiles. “About you? Definitely.”

Okay, so the thing I said about not blushing in front of Gage evaporates. “I mean, that’s not creepy or anything.” I roll my eyes.

“Not creepy. I’m just thorough, is all.” His gaze slides down my body and back up, and I don’t miss the double entendre.

What the hell is happening right now? I swallow thickly, unsure of how to respond.

Thankfully, the elevator opens.

I honestly think I feel Valen before I see him.

“Get out.” He snarls at Gage, advancing on him until they’re nearly nose to nose.

I almost drop my beer. “What the?—”

“I was just leaving,” Gage snaps back, the edge in his tone sharp enough to gut a man, his entire demeanor changing from one breath to the next. He sidesteps Valen and enters the elevator, then turns crisply with a smirk on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doc.”

“Stay the fuck away from her.” Valen follows him and grips the doors, preventing them from closing.

Something passes between them, something too quiet for me to hear despite my rapt attention. Then Valen steps back and lets the doors shut.

He whirls on me. “What was he doing here?”

I gape at him. “You have got to be fucking kidding. You don’t get a say in who I have in my room. I don’t even know you. You don’t know me. How many times am I going to have to tell you to get over yourself?” I spin and march back to the kitchen, finishing my beer on the way.

“He brought that?” He’s now seething right behind me.

I ignore him and find a knife, then slit the label and glance at the inside. Sure enough, there are figures in code written there. “It’s really good, actually. If you want to know where to get some for yourself, here’s the label.”

He swipes it from my hand, and it’s gone in an instant, pocketed away.

“Now, if I remember correctly, you are supposed to bring me something too.” I cross my arms and glare up at him. “Where is it?”

He looms over me, his tone eerily calm as he says, “I don’t want him alone with you in here ever again.”

“I don’t want to have to deal with your smug face ever again, but here we are.” I hold out my hand, palm up. “Sample.”

He doesn’t move.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind and will agree to me drawing your blood?” I press. “I can go get my kit right now.”

He slips his hand into his pocket and draws out a vial, but he doesn’t offer it to me. “Promise me you won’t allow him in here alone with you.”

“That’s not our deal.” I can barely contain my outrage. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? “Our deal is I do the research, you provide the blood. So either give it to me or I’m calling Juno.” I hate how fucking weak that sounds, like ‘I’ll tell my big sister on you’, but it’s all I have—and it’s an empty threat at best.

He grits his teeth, his jaw tense as he reluctantly passes me the vial.

I yelp when he grabs my wrist and twists it around my back. “Don’t for one moment think you have the upper hand here, Doctor. You don’t. And you never will.” He presses me backward until my ass hits the island, his grip sure but not painful as he scowls down at me. His hard body meets mine as he leans closer, caging me in as his lips graze my ear. “If I catch him in here again, I want you to know his blood will be on your hands.”

“You’re insane.” I try to yank my hand away but get nowhere. “You don’t fucking own me!” I yell. “I can talk to whoever I want. Hell, if I wanted to fuck him, I?—”

Now his grip does hurt. Just enough to make me snap my mouth closed. “Disobey me at his peril.” He releases me and stalks out of the kitchen.

I catch my breath and straighten, barely maintaining my grip on the vial as I brace myself on the counter with my other hand. By the time I stomp into the hall, he’s gone.

“Fucking asshole! And who says ‘peril’ unironically?” I yell at the empty apartment. The only response is the pounding of my heart and the unwanted heat pooling in my gut.