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It had been a quick, careless slip of the tongue, but nothing seemed to get past this guy. My cheeks heated again, and I took a sip of my drink before I gave my head a slight shake. “Yeah, I, uh, I do still own it, but I’m probably going to have to sell it soon.”

“Time to move on?” he asked, which wasn’t an unreasonable assumption, but I shook my head.

“No, not time,” I said. “Taxes.”

“Ah.”

“They’re a real bastard on a property like that,” I said, then flushed an even deeper shade of red for having just said bastard in front of Alex Westwood, but mercifully, it didn’t look like his cultured ears were about to start bleeding.

Instead, he laughed. “Yeah, tell me about it. Property ownership isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. There’s the taxes, the maintenance, and somehow, always something that needs to be replaced inside.”

“Exactly,” I said quietly, surprised that it sounded like he actually understood this, too. “In my case, there’s also back taxes the estate couldn’t keep up with, so unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the maintenance won’t be my problem for much longer.”

“Do you want to sell?”

“No.”

Something changed in the way he was looking at me, almost like the gears in his head were now spinning at a thousand miles an hour. Jane snapped him out of it when she announced that dinner was about to be served and he refocused, but there was still something strangely contemplative about him while we ate.

The rest of the evening was just as pleasant, with no one outright judging me for so obviously not belonging in company like theirs. When the first people announced that they were leaving, however, it was my opportunity to get out while I was ahead.

“I should probably get going too,” I said. “It’s getting late and I’ve got an early morning.”

Jane tried convincing me to have another drink, but in the end, she walked me out and said goodbye. Alex was right beside her, as friendly and warm as ever, but whenever he caught my gaze, it still looked like there was more going on in his head.

It was pretty strange, but on the other hand, rich people probably just enjoyed discussing property. That was the subject we’d been on when his switch had flipped, after all. Maybe figuring out taxes is a hobby of his.

By the time I got home, I’d mostly shaken it off, just relieved to have survived without making a fool of myself. The lights were on inside when I pulled up in the driveway, which meant Tasha was home.

I smiled when I opened the front door, about to announce how proud I was of myself for emerging victorious, when my footsteps slammed to a stop. Tasha was here, alright, but she wasn’t alone.

There was a man in my living room. A very tall, broad man standing next to my couch while Tasha dug through her backpack, which made me suspect his connection to her was school rather than a date.

The thing about this man, however, was that I knew him. He looked over as the door fell shut behind me, and my heart catapulted into my throat. This was the guy who’d helped me save the ramen from the road. He had the same artfully mussed, dark blond hair, the same exceptionally cut features, and the same aloof, haughty expression in his eyes when he’d told me to wear a helmet.

Across the short distance between us, his gaze met mine and locked on, and somehow, for some utterly inexplicable reason, he seriously did not look happy to see me. In fact, it didn’t look like he liked what he saw at all.

CHAPTER 5

HOLDEN

Ihadn’t even planned on stepping off the sidewalk when I got to Tasha’s place in Hyde Park, but now, I was standing in the living room of a rather glorious brownstone, holding a glass of wine I hadn’t wanted while Tasha searched for the folder she’d already misplaced.

“How did you lose it that fast?” I asked, genuinely confused. “It’s been, like, an hour since you texted me and you had it then.”

Tasha appeared out of a room off the hall. “It’s not lost. I simply can’t remember where I put it.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“Stop being so negative,” she said, smiling as she darted toward another room. “I was getting ready to start with the assignment and I had to get all my stuff together.”

As she disappeared into the next room, I sighed and looked around, still surprised by how nice her house was. Old and full of character, it was the kind of historic home that had survived multiple generations without losing its original grandeur. No matter how many designs of horrible wallpaper had probably covered these walls along the way.

Tasha emerged from the room, carrying a stack of papers and looking triumphant. “Look what I found.”

“That’s not my folder.”

“No, but it might just be better.” She shoved the stack toward me. “They’re notes I got from a girl who aced this class last year and I’m going to let you borrow them. As long as you promise to return them tomorrow.”