Page 70 of Secret Paths

“I am seeing someone,” I say.

Hunter turns his head properly then. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” His voice stays mild, but his expression changes. “That explains the sudden lack of flirting.”

“It is casual.”

“Of course.”

“And private.”

“I gathered.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

I glance at him, because that is not the answer I expected.

Hunter looks back towards the quarry. “You are protecting her.”

“I promised discretion.”

“That is not usually your opening move.”

“I contain multitudes.”

“Apparently.”

There is a joke waiting there, but he does not take it.

“It is not serious,” I say, too quickly.

Hunter only nods.

“I heard how that sounded,” I add.

“I thought you might.”

Bernard noses at my hand, clearly hoping emotional discomfort comes with more flapjack. I lift it out of reach. He stares at me as if I have personally ruined his afternoon.

Hunter looks at him. “At least one of you still knows what he wants.”

“Rude.”

“Accurate.”

I look down at the last piece of flapjack, then out towards St Claire, small and ordinary beneath the grey sky.

“It is early,” I say.

“All right.”

“And nobody knows.”

“Clearly.”