“I should warn you,” I whispered quietly.
His brow furrowed slightly. “About what?”
“I’m kind of adisaster now.”
That earned the faintest huff of amusement from him.
“Flick, you once accidentally microwaved aluminum foil.”
I gasped softly. “That happened one time.”
“You nearly burned your dad’s kitchen down.”
“You swore never to bring that up again.”
“I lied.”
The laugh escaped before I could stop it.
Small.
Real.
Rusty from disuse.
Hersh stared at me afterward like hearing it mattered too much.
Maybe it did.
Because his expression changed slowly.
Not Ranger now.
Not protector.
Just Hersh.
The boy who used to look at me like I hung the damn moon.
My chest tightened painfully.
This was dangerous.
Not the cartel.
Not the witness protection.
This.
Remembering how easy it had always been to love him.
A loud knock suddenly hit the door downstairs.
Both of us reacted instantly.
Every bit of softness vanished from Hersh’s face.
Ranger.
