Page 95 of Duty

Ouch.

Yeah, he heard the heat there.

“I miss you, too,” Andino admitted.

Haven’s posture didn’t soften even a little bit. “Why did you show up at my club last night, and then just disappear after like I wouldn’t have questions for you?”

“Figured I pushed my luck enough just by being there, actually.”

“That so?”

Andino shrugged. “Yeah, and probably your good graces, too.”

Haven’s lips flattened into a grim line. “You didn’t think that after two months of no contact, that should have been a clue for you that there was nothing …” She waved a hand between the two of them, adding, “Here.”

“A lack of contact doesn’t equal nothing, Haven. All that means was that you got stuck in your feelings about something you didn’t know how to handle, so instead of doing something about it, you chose to do nothing. Well, here we are, and I decided to do something.”

She stood a little straighter.

Andino cocked a brow at the challenge he saw reflecting back in her eyes. She was going to deny it, and tell him he didn’t know what he was talking about. He could see it coming before she even let the words slip out of her mouth. Still, he gave her the benefit of being able to say it.

And then he tore that apart, too.

“There is nothing, Andino,” Haven snapped.

He stepped forward—close enough to her that the suede of her trench coat brushed against his bare arms. Those pretty, blazing eyes of hers were all he could see. That, and the camber of her frown. He hated when she frowned.

“Then why were you so pissed off when I wasn’t there at the end of the night, Haven?”

“I wasn’t—”

“Weren’t you?”

Haven snapped her mouth closed, and her gaze darted down to stare at Snaps who was now looking up at them. Deflection, he knew. She didn’t want to look at him because he would find her lies there. This was just easier—easier for her to do if she didn’t have to look at him while she lied to herself.

Andino inched closer still. “That doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”

“You need to—”

“What, stop? Back up? Give you space? You’ve had two fucking months, woman. It’s time to figure it out.”

Haven’s head snapped up again, and her gaze practically nailed him to the wall. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? I can’t figure any of this out because you didn’t give me the benefit of at least telling me first, so I wouldn’t have to find out what you did, and who you are.”

Andino grinned. “And what am I?”

“A drug—”

“Wrong,” Andino said. “Well, kind of. That’s one of many things, and it falls under an entirely different category.”

“Stop interrupting me.”

He waved a hand. “By all means.”

“And don’t be snarky, either.”

“You’re making this less fun by the second, Haven.”

“I just …” Haven squeezed her eyes shut, and let out a hard sigh. “I don’t even know.”