The first gunshot was followed by another before I could even process the first one.

My phone slipped out of my hand and hit the floor. I stared at it for half a second before another shot cracked through the building, and that was enough to get me moving. I ducked behind my desk and crouched there, one hand pressed against my mouth while another shot cracked somewhere below my floor.

Someone screamed, followed by a man shouting something I couldn’t make out. Another voice answered him, and then running feet sounded somewhere below me.

I reached for my phone and nearly dropped it again when my fingers wouldn’t cooperate. I finally managed to unlock it and hit 911 before lifting it to my ear, keeping myself low.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

“I’m in my office,” I whispered. “Someone is shooting downstairs.”

“What’s the address?”

I gave it to her, then listened as she started asking questions I couldn’t answer. How many people? What did they look like? Was anyone injured?

I didn’t know how many people were downstairs or whether anyone was hurt. I just knew someone had brought a gun into my building, and I was sitting in my office waiting to find out if they were coming upstairs.

Another shot made me flinch so hard my shoulder hit the desk.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m still here.”

“Are you somewhere secure?”

I looked around my office. Glass walls. One door. A desk that would probably stop absolutely nothing.

“Not really.”

“Stay where you are. Officers are on the way.”

I nodded before remembering she couldn’t see me.

Then footsteps came from the hallway.

I stopped breathing.

They weren’t downstairs anymore.

They were outside my office.

The door opened.

I pressed a hand against my chest and forced myself to take a slow breath.

“Sophia.”

I almost dropped my phone again. That was Cass’s voice. What was he doing here? I stayed under the desk for another second before crawling out slowly and getting to my feet. He stood in the doorway with a black jacket over dark jeans and a holster strapped beneath his arm. His jaw was tight, his eyes hard, and unfortunately, none of that made him any less attractive. If anything, the whole dangerous-man-with-a-gun thing was doing absolutely nothing to help me think clearly.

His eyes moved over me once before settling on the phone in my hand.

“Are you insane?” I muttered.

His eyes came back to mine. “Babe.”

I stared at him, wondering how the hell he could sound that amused when there were people shooting downstairs. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

“I meant physically.”

“I don’t give a damn what you meant, Cass. What’s going on?”

He came closer. I watched him look at my face, my arms, my shoulders. He checked me like he expected to find a bullet hole I’d somehow missed.

“I’m fine.”

His didn’t say anything.

“I was hiding behind my desk with a cell phone.”

“I noticed.”

I lowered it slowly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His expression didn’t change. “I was around.”

“You were around?”

“I was called.”

“By who?”

He ignored the question.

I wanted to scream my lungs out, but that didn’t seem like a smart idea. Instead, I watched him more thoroughly, noticing the gun beneath his jacket and the fact that he looked completely comfortable carrying it. I’d seen him in T-shirts, jeans and Timberlands more times than I could count. I’d never seen him dressed like this. Never seen him look at a room like he was already measuring every exit.

He reached for my arm.

I pulled away. “Don’t.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sophia.”

“I’m fine.”

He stared at me for another second before stepping back. “Stay behind me.”

I actually laughed. “Excuse me?”

“Not really something to argue over, Babe.”

“I’m not hiding behind you.”

His mouth tightened. “I wasn’t asking.”

I should have argued with him. Normally, I would have. Instead, I found myself looking at the gun under his jacket and wondering how many times he’d used one before tonight. Apparently Cass being bossy outside my bedroom was a thing too. Great.

Cass’s entire body changed. It happened so quickly that I almost missed it. His shoulders squared. His eyes sharpened. One hand moved toward the weapon beneath his jacket while the other reached for me. He pulled me behind him without even looking back.

I stared at his back. “What are you doing?”

“Quiet.”

I stayed exactly where he put me.

A man appeared at the end of the hallway, weapon raised.

Cass moved before I even had time to scream. The shot came from his direction, and the man dropped before I could process what I’d just seen. I froze, but Cass didn’t. He stepped forward, checked the hallway and looked back at me.

“Stay here.”

“You’re not seriously going to leave me here after that.”

“Sophia.”

“Cass.”

He stopped.

I could see the tension in his shoulders.

“What?” he whispered.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

His expression went blank. “Stay here, Sophia.” Then he disappeared down the hallway.

I stared after him, trying to remember if I’d ever actually asked what Cass did for a living. Not where he went, not why he disappeared, not even what kind of job required a man to show up at my office with a gun under his jacket. I couldn’t remember asking any of it. I’d apparently been too busy letting him climb into my bed and pretending the rest didn’t matter.

A few minutes later, voices filled the building.

Police officers rushed upstairs, followed by paramedics and men I didn’t recognize. The whole place became chaos. People asked me questions. Someone checked my pulse even though I kept telling them I wasn’t injured, and I answered the same questions so many times that I was starting to wonder if they thought I’d been shot in the head. When they were done, I went searching for Cass. I found him downstairs standing beside another man who looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.

The stranger was big enough that I immediately understood why he’d been hard to miss. He had dark hair pulled neatly back and a tattoo disappearing beneath the edge of his black vest. He caught me looking at him and stopped talking.

Cass turned. Our eyes met. He immediately walked toward me.

“You okay?”

“I’ve already answered that question too many times.”

“Answer it for me.”

I blinked at him. “I’m okay.”

His eyes moved over my face again.

“Any pain?”

“No.”

He nodded once.

Only then did some of the tension leave his face. “You scared the hell out of me.”

I stared at him. He seemed to realize what he’d said because his expression hardened again, and I folded my arms. “You were worried?”

He looked at me. “Seeing as I am here.” He gave a small shrug.

I hated that answer because it made the stupid little part of me that had spent seventeen days waiting for him sit up and pay attention.

“Who’s he?”

Cass followed my gaze. “Roman.”

Roman gave me a small nod. “Good to meet you.”

“Under better circumstances would have been nice.”

His mouth twitched.

Cass didn’t smile. “She’s leaving.”

I looked at him. “I’m what?”

“You’re leaving.”

“I have a business to deal with.”

“Not tonight.”

“Cass.”

“No.” I stared at him, waiting for him to back down. He didn’t. “You don’t get to order me around.”

“Just did, babe.”

I almost laughed. “Suddenly you think you can walk into my office, shoot somebody and start giving me instructions?”

His jaw tightened. “Kept you safe, didn’t it?”

Roman cleared his throat. “Cass.”

Cass looked at him. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

Cass glanced at me. “Later.”

Roman’s expression changed slightly. “Now.”

Cass’s jaw tightened again.

I looked between them.

“What exactly is going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“That’s becoming my least favorite sentence.”

Cass stepped closer. “Go home.”

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

His eyes held mine. “Because you don’t listen.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

He reached up and brushed his thumb across my cheek. The touch was so gentle it didn’t belong with the gun beneath his jacket or the gunshots that had just torn through the building.

His eyes stayed on mine. “Go home, Sophia.”

For once, I didn’t argue. I almost asked what was really going on, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the way his eyes kept moving over me, checking me again even though he’d already done it twice. Maybe it was the tension in his jaw. Whatever it was, I let him have his way and turned toward the door.

The next morning, I woke up to three missed calls from an unknown number.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds before dropping the phone onto the mattress.

I didn’t call back.

I had enough problems without voluntarily adding mysterious phone numbers to the list.

My apartment was silent, and some stupid part of me had expected Cass to show up last night. That was ridiculous. He’d disappeared for seventeen days before, so why should one night of gunshots suddenly turn him into the kind of man who checked on me in person?

Except every time I thought about yesterday, I kept seeing him standing in my office with a gun under his jacket. I kept hearing his voice in my head. You scared the hell out of me. Cass had said it like he hadn’t meant to let the words out, and now I couldn’t decide whether I wanted him to say them again or pretend I’d never heard them.

I got dressed and went to the kitchen.

My coffee was halfway finished when someone knocked on the door.

I froze with my coffee halfway to my mouth. For one stupid second, I thought it was Cass. Then I remembered that Cass didn’t knock. He walked in like doors were merely suggestions.

I opened the door and found Roman standing on the other side.

“You’re not Cass.” I stared at him, and he smiled.

“I’m Roman.”

“I remember.”

He looked pleased. “Good. Saves time.”

“What do you want?”

“To make sure you’re okay.”

“I am.”

He glanced at the coffee in my hand.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He laughed. “You’re definitely Sophia.”

I frowned.

“I just spent the whole night downstairs. And I could really use a coffee.”

That caught my attention. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t seriously think Cass was going to leave you alone after last night, did you?”

Like I knew anything about that man.

I crossed my arms.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small card. “This is my number. You call me when you can’t reach Cass.”

I took it. I looked at the number again. I’d called Cass before. Not often, because I wasn’t completely lacking in self-respect, but enough times to learn that his phone apparently existed for texting me and nothing else. By the fourth unanswered call, I’d gotten the message.

“Cass never answers.”

“He’ll answer.”

I looked at him. “That’s what people say right before someone doesn’t answer.”

Roman’s mouth twitched. “Call me when he doesn’t.”

“Where is he?”

Roman hesitated. “Busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Things that don’t involve you.”

I stared at him. “Then why are you standing in my apartment building at eight in the morning?”

Roman smiled again. “Because you just found your way into something that doesn’t involve you.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Before I could ask what he meant, he stepped back toward the elevator. “Lock your door.”

“Roman.”

He paused and looked back at me. “Be careful today.”

I tightened my grip around the card. “Why?”

His expression lost the last trace of amusement. “Because yesterday wasn’t random.”

Then he walked away.

I stood in the doorway until the elevator doors closed, then looked down at the number in my hand. I’d spent months knowing almost nothing about Cass and somehow being perfectly happy with that arrangement. Now I couldn’t stop thinking about the gun beneath his jacket, the way he’d moved through my office, the way Roman had spent the night downstairs because Cass hadn’t trusted anyone else to keep me safe. For the first time since I’d met him, I wanted his last name for a reason that had nothing to do with Google.

I wanted to know exactly who the hell I’d been sleeping with.

By nine that morning, I had managed to make coffee, answer three emails and stare at Roman’s number long enough to memorize it. I hadn’t called him, and I hadn’t called Cass either. I wasn’t completely pathetic, at least that was what I kept telling myself while checking my phone for the fifth time.

There was still no message from Cass.

The second time he came to my place, he hadn’t texted. I was on my couch with a glass of wine and Netflix when a knock sounded on the door. I assumed Ethan had lost his key and rushed over to open it. There stood the stranger from a few weeks ago. I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing outside my door, but his tongue in my mouth quickly stopped me. And the rest was history. To say I was a slut would be an understatement, which probably explained why I was thinking about him after he’d spent his recent disappearance doing an excellent job of reminding me that I wasn’t supposed to expect anything from him.

I picked up my phone again when it buzzed.

Cass.: You home?

I stared at the message.

Me: Yes.

The reply came before I could put the phone down.

Cass: Good.

I frowned.

That was it?

I typed, Why?

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Cass: Stay there.

I laughed under my breath.

Me: Are you giving me instructions now?

His response came a few seconds later.

Cass: Yes.

I shook my head and put the phone down.

He was unbelievable.

Five minutes later, someone knocked on my door.

I didn’t bother wondering who it was.

When I opened it, Cass was standing there with two paper bags in one hand and that irritatingly calm expression on his face.

I looked at the bags.

Then at him.

“You brought food?”

He walked past me. “Morning to you too, Babe.”

I closed the door behind him. “You could’ve said you were coming.”

“I did.”

“You said stay there.”

“Exactly.”

I followed him into the kitchen. “That’s not the same thing.”

He placed the bags on the counter and started taking things out. Breakfast. Actual breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, fruit and the coffee I liked from the little place two blocks away. I stared at the cup for a second. Did he know I liked it there? I’d never told him.

I stared at it. “What’s this?”

“Food.”

“I can see that.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

I looked at him. He gave me the smallest smile. There it was again. He was enjoying himself.

“Flowers would’ve been a nice touch.”

He blinked. “I’ve never seen you eat flowers.”

“You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.” He pulled out a chair with his foot. “Sit.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you planning to order me around all morning?”

“Probably.”

I sat anyway, mostly because the food smelled good and partly because arguing with him before breakfast seemed like unnecessary work. Cass took the seat across from me. I reached for the coffee.

He watched me take the first sip. “You didn’t sleep much.”

I lowered the cup. “How would you know?”

His expression didn’t change. “You look tired.”

I stared at him. That answer should’ve been enough, but something about the way he’d said it made me wonder whether he’d been paying more attention to me than he usually admitted.

I picked up a piece of toast. “So, are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?”

“No.”

I nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

“Not yet.”

I put the toast down. “Did the shooting have anything to do with you? Were they targeting you through me?”

“Not really.”

“Cass.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Sophia.”

I hated when he did that. “What?”

“Eat.”

I stared at him for a moment before taking another bite. Didn’t ask again. Not yet. There were bigger questions sitting between us, including the fact that he could very well be connected to what happened at my office, and I still didn’t know his last name

I could feel his eyes on me while I picked at the edge of my toast, which made it harder to pretend I wasn’t wondering what the hell was going through his head.

“You really are bossy.”

“You’ve known that for a while.”

“Not outside the bedroom.”

His mouth curved.

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“When I don’t want to answer them.”

“That’s convenient.”

“It is.”

I leaned back. “You know what I find interesting?”

“What?”

“I’ve been sleeping with you for months and I still don’t know your last name.”

He looked at me for a moment. Then he smiled. “You’ve never asked.”

“I shouldn’t have to.”

“Why not?”

“Because normal people introduce themselves.”

“We’re not exactly normal.”

I laughed. “That’s the first thing you’ve said today that I agree with.”

His eyes stayed on me. “I like you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Annoyed.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You enjoy making me angry?”

“Sometimes.”

“That’s a little disturbing.”

“You keep letting me come back. Easily too.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. He smiled wider. I hated that he always knew when he’d won an argument. I reached for my coffee instead.

He watched me for another second before asking, “Are you going to the office?”

“No.”

“Good.”

I frowned. “Why do you care?”

His expression changed slightly. “Because I told you not to.”

I put my cup down. “Cass.”

He looked at me.

“Yesterday, men with guns came into my office. One of them ended up dead. You showed up carrying a gun like you’ve been doing this your entire life, and now Roman is giving me his number because apparently I somehow wandered into something I know absolutely nothing about.”

I leaned forward.

“And you expect me to sit here eating breakfast while you tell me nothing?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

His fingers tapped once against the table before going still.

“I don’t want you involved.”

“I didn’t exactly volunteer.”

“I know.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what this is?”

His eyes met mine. “Because knowing makes you a target.”

I stared at him. “So I’m already a target?”

He didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

My stomach tightened. “Because of you?”

His jaw shifted. “No.”

“That’s comforting.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t get to disappear for seventeen days, walk into my office with a gun, tell me not to go to work and then sit in my kitchen acting like I’m supposed to be fine with all of this.”

“I never asked you to be fine with it.”

“Then what are you asking?”

He looked at me for a long moment. “Trust me.”

I almost laughed. “You won’t even tell me your last name.”

His mouth twitched. “Fair point.”

“Thank you.”

He stood.

I watched him walk around the table. “What are you doing?”

He stopped beside my chair. “Come here.”

“I am here.”

His hand settled on the back of my chair. “Closer.”

I looked up at him. “You really think you can distract me every time I ask a difficult question?”

“No.” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “I know I can.”

I hated that he was right.

He leaned down and kissed me. I should’ve pushed him away. I should’ve reminded him that I was still angry and that he hadn’t answered anything. Instead, my fingers caught the front of his shirt. His hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer until I was barely aware of the chair beneath me. He kissed me like it was his daily bread.

My fingers tightened in his shirt before I even realized I was holding on.

Cass had never been the kind of man who kissed me like he was trying to prove something. Usually, he was confident and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. This was different. His hand tightened against my waist, and when I turned my face slightly, he followed me without hesitation.

When he finally pulled back, I was still holding his shirt.

His eyes dropped to my hand. Then he looked at me. “You were saying something.”

I let go of him. “You’re an asshole.”

He smiled. “I know.”

I pushed his chest. “Sit down.”

He laughed quietly and returned to his chair.

I picked up my coffee, mostly so I had something to do with my hands.

I studied him. “Are you dangerous?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. “Eat your breakfast.”

I stared at him. “That wasn’t an answer.”

Before he could say anything, my phone buzzed on the counter.

I reached for it, but Cass got there first. He glanced at the screen. His expression changed.

I noticed immediately. “Who is it?”

He looked at me. “Your brother.”

I held out my hand.

“Give me my phone.”

He did.

I answered the call. “Hey, Ethan.”

There was a pause.

Then Ethan’s voice came through. “Where are you?”

“Home.”

“Are you okay?”

I looked at Cass.

He was already watching me.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I heard about what happened.”

“How?”

Another pause.

“People talk.”

I frowned at the phone after the call ended. People talk? About what? And how quickly had they started talking?

Before I could ask, Ethan said, “I’ll come by later.”

“Okay.”

The call ended. I put the phone down. Cass hadn’t moved.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you look like you’re about to say something and then decide not to.”

His jaw tightened. “Your brother shouldn’t be coming here.”

I stared at him. “Why? How did you know I have a brother anyway?”

He stood and reached for his jacket. “Because I said so.”

I laughed. “That’s getting old.”

He slipped the jacket on and glanced at me. “You’ll understand eventually.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

He walked toward the door.

I followed him. “Where are you going?”

“Work.”

I stopped. “Are you a cop?”

He looked back at me. “Security.”

“What kind of security?”

His mouth curved. “The kind that keeps me busy.”

I folded my arms. “You know what? One day I’m going to figure you out.”

He opened the door. “Maybe.” Then he looked at me again. “And when you do, you’ll probably wish you hadn’t.” He walked away before I could answer.

I stood there staring at the closed door for a moment before turning back toward the kitchen. The breakfast was still sitting on the table, untouched except for what I’d eaten, and the coffee was still warm. I picked up the cup and took another sip, then looked toward the door again. He’d shown up without warning, brought me breakfast, told me not to go to work and kissed me when I was still angry with him. And somehow, the strangest part was that he’d known exactly which coffee to bring.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, it was a message from Roman.

Roman: Don’t open the door for anyone you don’t know.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

Roman: Especially your brother.

My eyes stayed on the screen. I read the message again, slower this time, then looked toward my front door.

Then I called Cass. When his phone went straight to voicemail, I called Roman.

Roman answered on the second ring.

“Where is he?” I asked.

There was a short pause on the other end. “Good morning to you too.”

“Roman.”

“I’m listening.”

“Where is Cass?”

He paused, then sighed. “Didn’t he just leave your apartment?”

Okay, that was a fair question.

“Why are you saying I shouldn’t see my brother?”

“Should ask Cass, Soph.”

“You people are really bad at answering simple questions,” I muttered, throwing myself onto the couch.

“We’re actually very good at answering them. We’re just choosing not to answer yours.”

I stared at the wall. “That’s not making me feel better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Roman, I’m going to see my brother.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not asking permission. I haven’t seen Ethan since the shooting, and now you’re telling me I can’t see my own brother without explaining why?”

“I’m telling you that right now isn’t a good time.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

“It’s the one I have.”

I got to my feet again because sitting still while Roman casually told me what I could and couldn’t do was making my blood pressure rise. “You showed up at my apartment this morning, told me yesterday wasn’t random, gave me your number because apparently I’m now part of something I know nothing about, and then you tell me I can’t see my brother. You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Sophia.”

“No. Don’t Sophia me.”

He sighed. “Your brother isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Fine. Then I’m seeing him.”

“You really are stubborn.”

“I prefer determined.”

“I’ll tell Cass.”

“Tell him whatever you want.”

I ended the call before he could say anything else.

For the next few hours, I tried to work from home, which was harder than it sounded when every few minutes my mind wandered back to the shooting, Roman’s warning, and the fact that my boyfriend, who apparently wasn’t technically my boyfriend because we’d never had that conversation, had somehow acquired a small army of men who seemed to think keeping me alive was part of their job description. The only good part about this whole thing was that I’d stopped worrying about Victor’s files. I had my own problems that didn’t involve getting on the nerves of a client.

By one o’clock, I was standing in my kitchen making another cup of coffee when someone knocked. This time I knew exactly who it was. I opened the door and found Ethan standing there with his hands in his jacket pockets. Why he couldn’t just use his key was beyond me. I just filed it as him thinking I’d freak out after what happened.

He looked at me for a second before stepping inside. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He looked over my shoulder. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

He came farther into the apartment, and I closed the door behind him. “You could’ve called.”

“I did.”

“We could’ve done this over the phone then.”

He smiled. “Being your brother.”

“That’s not a job.”

“It is when you’re you.”

I rolled my eyes and walked toward the kitchen. “Do you want coffee?”

“Sure.”

I grabbed another mug and filled it. Ethan leaned against the counter, watching me in that way he had when he wanted to ask something but was trying to decide how to word it.

I handed him the mug. “What?”

“What?”

“You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you stare at me like you’re waiting for me to confess to something.”

He laughed. “I heard about yesterday.”

“Apparently.”

His smile faded slightly. “Sophia.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you keep saying that.”

“Because I am.”

He looked down at his coffee. “Who was the guy with you?”

I paused. “What guy?”

“The one people said was with you yesterday.”

Who are these people? Someone from the next building?

I frowned. “They saw Cass?”

“Cass?”

I stared at him.

He blinked. “That’s his name?”

I slowly set my cup down. “Who told you about any of this? I left Cass at my office yesterday after he saved me. Was there someone else at my office?”

He looked away. “A police friend told me.”

That was enough to make me suspicious. “You have a police friend?”

He ignored me and looked down at his coffee. “So who’s Cass?”

I looked at him. “Why?”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’ve already asked me about him.”

“Your boyfriend?”

I laughed. “God, no.”

Ethan smiled. “You sure?”

“We never had that conversation.”

He nodded slowly. “But you’ve been seeing him?”

“For a while.”

“How long?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you suddenly interested in my love life?”

“I’m your brother. I’m allowed to be interested.”

“You’re nosy.”

“Runs in the family.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Who is your police friend?”

“No one.”

I folded my arms. “You’re terrible at lying.”

He laughed, but it sounded forced. “And you’re terrible at minding your own business.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Before he could answer, someone knocked on the door. Ethan glanced toward it. I walked over and opened it.

Brianna stood there holding a bottle of tequila in one hand and a bag of ice in the other. Monica stood beside her with two bottles of something else tucked under her arm.

Brianna pushed past me before I could say hello. “You got shot at and didn’t call me?”

“I didn’t get shot.”

“That is not the point.”

Monica walked in behind her and looked at Ethan. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

Brianna put the tequila on the kitchen counter. “We heard what happened.”

I closed the door. “How?”

“People talk.”

I stared at her.

She shrugged. “Apparently faster than you do.”

Monica set the other bottles down. “We came to check on you.”

“And drink my alcohol.”

Brianna looked offended. “Your alcohol?”

“I know you. What you brought is not nearly enough.”

“Exactly. Which is why you should appreciate me bringing more.”

I laughed despite myself.

Ethan shook his head. “I’ll leave you girls to it.”

“Good idea,” Brianna said.

He looked at her. “Nice seeing you too.”

“You too.”

He walked toward the door, but before he reached it, I stopped him. “Where are you going?”

“I have somewhere to be.”

“You just got here.”

“I’ll come back later.”

I frowned. “Why?”

He hesitated for half a second. “I said I’d come back.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

He smiled. “You worry too much.” He opened the door.

“Ethan.”

He looked back.

“Be careful.”

His expression changed for just a second before he nodded. “Always.”

Then he left.

I locked the door behind him and turned around. Brianna was already opening the tequila.

“You should pay rent.”

“I brought medicine.”

“Tequila isn’t medicine.”

“It is when your best friend gets shot at and doesn’t bother calling you.”

“I wasn’t—”

She cut me off. “You were surrounded by gunfire. Details.”

Monica took the bottle from her before she could pour herself half a glass. “You said we were checking on her.”

“We are checking on her.”

I laughed and reached for a glass. “Fine. Pour me one.”

Brianna grinned. “That’s my girl.” She pointed toward the window. “There’s two hot men outside your building.”

I walked toward the window. “What?”

“Two very hot men,” she repeated. “Something about security.”

Monica joined us, pushing the curtain aside slightly. “They look familiar.”

“From where?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Brianna glanced at her. “You remember hot men but not where you saw them?”

“I remember faces.”

I looked through the gap in the curtain. Two men stood across the street near a black SUV. One had a toolbox. He was tall and broad, wearing a black vest over a dark shirt. The other stood beside him, slightly leaner, his attention moving between the street, the building, and the people walking past. Neither looked like they were waiting for a bus.

Brianna leaned closer to the window. “They’re definitely not here for the scenery.”

Monica nodded. “I swear I’ve seen them somewhere.”

I let the curtain fall. “Maybe they’re cops.”

Brianna turned around. “Cops don’t usually look that good.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re welcome.”

We poured the tequila.

An hour later, the bottle was already missing a respectable amount, and Brianna had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be angry with me. She was sitting on my couch with one leg tucked underneath her, explaining why she thought the taller man outside had been staring at her when someone knocked on my door again.

We all stopped. I looked at Monica. Monica looked at Brianna.

Brianna lowered her glass. “If that’s one of those hot men, I’m answering.”

“I’m answering my own door.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

I walked over and opened it. The two men from outside stood in the hallway. Up close, they were even more intimidating. The taller one looked at me first. His expression was unreadable as his eyes moved briefly over the apartment behind me before returning to my face. The other man stood slightly behind him, his attention already moving past my shoulder. Neither looked surprised to see the alcohol.

I looked from one to the other. “Can I help you?”

The taller man nodded. “I’m Jax.”

The other man gave me a brief look. “Dante.”

I stared at them. Neither name meant anything to me.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “And who are you?”

Jax looked at me. “We’re here to do surveillance.”

I frowned. “I didn’t call for surveillance.”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

Dante looked past me again. His eyes landed on Brianna. She was now standing near the kitchen, her glass in her hand. For the first time since they’d arrived, Dante’s expression changed. It wasn’t much. Just a slight narrowing of his eyes. Jax noticed him too.

I looked between all three men. “What?”

Dante didn’t answer.

Monica did. “They’re Black Forge.”