Page 35 of The Beat Match

Right. Leo. She took her pen and crossed off that obvious question. “How’d you come up with Falcon?”

“Same answer.”

The Batman comics Leo had loved, which she should have realized, too. Another useless question. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’m starting with the easy stuff.”

Wes leaned forward. “When did you get bitten by the DJ bug? And why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“This is my inquisition, not yours.”

“Quid pro quo, Squirrel. If you want answers, you need to bend.”

Fine. If he wanted answers, he’d get them. “Two months ago, and I didn’t tell you because of that nickname.”

His dark eyebrows drew together. “You didn’t tell me because I call you Squirrel?”

“At least your hearing isn’t failing in your old age.”

“Explain yourself.”

She opened her mouth to finally tell him how demoralizing his judgment could be, when she heard a soft scritching. She’d been in Wes’s condo enough to recognize the hum of the air conditioner, the ringing echo of steps when walking on his hardwood floor. This sound was new.

Side-eyeing him, she pushed her chair back and snooped through the kitchen, scanned the loft condominium’s open space. The fancy paintings and dramatic sculptures were still fancy and dramatic. The reclaimed brick walls still stretched up to the third story, making her feel small. Nothing was new or out of place, then she heard another scritch, scritch, scritch.

“What are you doing?” Wes asked from his chair.

“Investigating. I heard…” She walked toward his living area, made a wide circle around his leather sectional, and abruptly laughed.

Wes didn’t ask what she’d found. Weirdo knew what had her grinning. “I completely forgot you kept the rabbit-squirrel. Does he sleep in your room with you or out here?”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Because you have a real, live pet. But I’m confused. When I met you outside your building, you were coming from work. You weren’t carrying the cage, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t have Felix cradled against your stomach in a Rabbit Bjorn.”

He looked up at the towering ceiling, his attention meandering to the massive widows. “His separation anxiety’s gone.”

“His anxiety’s gone? Just like that?”

“At least your hearing isn’t failing in your old age,” he said, stealing her line.

Such a comedian. “How’d you cure him?”

“Living here has calmed him down.”

She squinted at the rabbit, but he looked the same as when she’d first met him. “I still don’t get why you kept him. You hate pets the way most people hate eating liver. What changed?”

“Felix is different.”

“Oh, I know he’s a rare rabbit-squirrel with a penchant for world domination, but you’ve always said…” She trailed off as she recalled his pet dismissals.

Over the years, she’d suggested he get a cat or fish or monkey, because the guy could afford one, to warm up his solitary life. Easy companionship. Wes’s answers had always been the same: It’s too much commitment. I don’t have time. Pets require care I’m not equipped to give. And they smell.

She’d roll her eyes and tell him he was made of stone. He’d retaliate with a Squirrel joke. Annoying, but his vehement pet stance could be linked to the kiss conundrum. Aside from this Rosanna socialite, Wes had never had a long-term girlfriend. He would sometimes mention a night out with a woman, but as long as she’d known him, he’d been single. She’d never given his lifestyle much thought. There had been no physical attraction to prompt curiosity.

She was curious now.

Odor factor aside, commitment issues might be a more defining attribute of Wes than she’d realized. There was no way around the bond Annie and he already shared. Building upon that with intimacy was daunting for her. It was likely as scary for him. He might even have liked kissing Annie as much as she’d liked being kissed by him, but the depth of their relationship had sent him running to this other “safer” woman, one who didn’t come with their emotional history.

She chewed on those possibilities while squatting next to Felix’s cage, her knees fanning out the soft fabric of her dress. She poked her finger through the wire slats. Felix munched his hay. “I’m glad you have each other,” she said loud enough for both pet and owner to hear. Wes’s stylish condo felt more like a home with the silly rabbit.