“Then why is he trying to burn holes into your head with his eyes?”
I lifted my shoulders. “I only said that he and Skye look cute together. I thought they might be an item, since she stood possessively close to him. She’s usually careful not to touch him, and he didn’t step away from her.”
“Probably because he was too busy cutting off your avenue of escape. Anyway, I wasn’t talking about tonight—something’s happened before then. He’s been consistently mad at you recently.” She sipped at her drink. “He glares at you pretty much constantly.”
I waved that away. “He glares at everyone.”
“He has a default glare, true. But this is more. Personal.” She edged her chair closer to the table and leaned forward. “Come on, what gives?”
“I’ve no idea,” I replied with a clueless, half-hearted shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”
She squinted, studying me closely. A slow smile crept onto her face. “I’ve noticed something.”
I forced myself not to tense, keeping my expression nonchalant.
“You make a point of not looking at him unless you absolutely have to.”
“I do?” I asked, airy.
“Yes. And I’ve noticed something else.”
“You’re quite the noticer.”
Her lips flattened. “That’s not a word.”
“Pretty sure it is.”
She flicked a hand. “Whatever. Stop trying to divert my attention—it won’t work.”
“I do it, like, all the time. Mostly just for the fun factor. It always works.”
“It won’t this time.” She propped her elbows on the table. “Back to what I was saying, I’ve noticed something else: you treat him differently now. Before, you bantered with him. Now, you keep your interactions with him to a minimum.”
I drank a gulp of my mead. “He’ll very soon be my superior, since I fully intend to join the Order. So I figure I should stop ogling and teasing him. It’s not professional.” I shrugged. “That’s it.”
She hummed. “You’re lying. Interesting.”
“I’m not lying. And why would it be interesting if I was?”
She let out a dismissive sound. “You wouldn’t understand, you’re not like me.”
“Nuts, nosy, and weird?”
“How am I weird?”
“Do you really have to ask that, Miss I Like Digging Shallow Graves?”
“It relaxes me. Don’t judge. We all need our minds to go quiet for a while.” She pointed hard at me. “Now stop trying to distract me and just spill the truth. There has to be a reason you’re both acting so strange toward each other, acting so …” She trailed off, her gaze sharpening in a way that made my nape prickle. She leaned closer. “Oh my God, you’ve fucked him,” she accused, her hushed tone edged with excitement.
My belly sank. “What? Come on, that’s—”
“You’ve fucked him,” she repeated, sure. “When did this happen?”
I spluttered. “It didn’t.”
“I can always sniff out a lie. I’ve told you, there’s no fooling the Master of Deceit,” she said, proudly placing a hand on her chest. “Now cough up the goods. When did it happen? Was it when you shared a room at the bunker?”
I sighed, feeling my shoulders slump. I could keep denying it, but there was little point. She wasn’t going to let it go, nor would she second guess herself at this juncture.
