Page 24 of The Illicit Play

He frowns. “Uh… hey?”

It’s clear he has no idea how I know his name, but I’m not about to admit that I just read it off his name tag. The truth is, I recognize the guy. He’s been working here for a couple of years now, and I see his face around all the time. I probably knew his name was Kevin in the back recesses of my brain. His name tag was just reminding me.

Looking at Blake, I try to catch her eye, but she’sstaring at the floor, obviously embarrassed by what this guy’s accusing her of. But it can’t be true, right?

The way Wily always talks about her, the girl’s allergic to getting into trouble, which means she’d never do anything as reckless as shoplifting.

Stepping a little closer to her, I try to form a barrier between her and Kevin, angling my body so that she’s tucked just behind me.

His confused frown turns into a scowl. “You in on this too?”

“In on what?” I glance over my shoulder.

Blake’s eyes dart up to meet mine, and she gives me a look of flustered confusion.

I can read her SOS signal loud and clear.

Being falsely accused of anything sucks, and this guy’s got it wrong. Blake wouldn’t shoplift.

“Listen, man, I think there’s been some misunderstanding here. I can vouch for this woman. She’s my roommate’s little sister, and I’m telling you, she wouldn’t shoplift anything from your store.”

“You can check my pockets if you really want to,” Blake drawls behind me, obviously just as unimpressed by these accusations as I am.

“Okay.” Kevin squares his shoulders, grabbing her arm and pulling her out from behind me.

I step forward with a soft growl and quietly warn him, “Get your hands off her.”

Rolling his eyes, Kevin releases Blake’s arm and gives her a pointed look. “Come on, then. Empty your pockets.”

She frowns, clearly irritated that he’s taking her up on her offer.

For just a second, a wave of doubt rushes through me.

She didn’t actually take something, did she?

But my doubts quickly fade as she pulls out her phone, then pats her jean pockets. “I’ve got nothing else in here.”

“Turn around,” the man barks.

I glare at him as Blake does a slow spin and he eyes up the back pockets of her jeans. “She doesn’t have anything.”

“And your jacket pockets.” The man ignores me and points to Blake’s leather jacket.

She glances up at me again, her blue eyes so bright—they look just like Wily’s.

I gaze back at her, my lips curling into a closed-mouth smile as I try to reassure her.

With a soft sigh, she pulls out the insides of her jacket pockets, proving that they’re empty.

“What?” Kevin balks. “But I saw you.”

“You didn’t,” Blake gently argues. “I was looking at nail polish. I picked up a bottle, thought I might get it, then changed my mind. I wasn’t walking out of this place with it in my pocket.”

“But…” He huffs and looks at me like he’s wanting my help.

I frown back at him. “I told you she wouldn’t.”

“I saw her!” His face starts turning red as he storms down the aisle, heading for the makeup section. “She took it from here and put it in her pocket! I watched her do it!”