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I tried to give him an unaffected smile. "Yeah, it was lovely, thank you for asking. Yours?”
“Oh, you know, chasing down a few things here there and everywhere. Nothing really eventful."
"That's good. Glad you had fun." I hated to lie.
As we stepped into the elevator and he typed in the security code for the penthouse level, he turned to me. "So, the whole wedding to Saint thing, how do you feel about it?"
I blinked rapidly. "Excuse me?"
"You and Saint, you're not like a real thing, right?"
I knew he was aware that this whole thing was fake. It was just jarring to hear him talking about it. "Of course. I mean, you know we're just pretending for the time being while you guys look for whoever is after me."
"That's perfect. Just swell. That means I can take you to dinner."
"What?"
"You know, a date. Surely you’ve had dates before. I could cook, we’d talk about things while Saint's not around, that whole thing?"
What the fuck am I supposed to say here?
He was attractive and kind. And there was nothing wrong about it. Saint had said he wanted this whole thing to be more than platonic, but he’d done absolutely nothing about it and was still a little distant, so there was no problem with me going on a date with Westin. "I, um, sure. Dinner sometime."
He grinned and winked at me. "Perfect. Tuesday sound good?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Excellent. I'll come by at seven. Saint's got the nicer kitchen, and I've been dying to get my hands on some of his knives."
"Really, you can cook?"
"Oh ,yeah. My last name might be Rourke, but I have an Italian grandmother. She taught me how to cook everything from scratch. From noodles to her secret sauce. You're going to love it."
I laughed at his enthusiasm. He really was like a big kid with that adorable dimple. There was a little boy still inside. Maybe I was playing with fire and this was a bad idea for reasons I might not even be able to articulate right now.
But you have to eat.
And between classes and everything, I couldn't just sit around waiting for Saint to talk to me, to pay attention to me, to tell me something vital. No. I was going to have this date. There was nothing wrong with it.
But when we reached the penthouse and Westin walked me in, I found Saint waiting in the foyer for me like a father staying up all night for his daughter coming home from a date.
Unease rolled over me. Something was wrong. There was something tense around his mouth and his eyes.
"Hey, Kaya."
"Jasper."
Westin cocked his head at that. "She calls you Jasper, huh?"
I wasn't entirely unaware. I neither liked nor hated his name. But I knew that it had the most delicious effect on him when I used it. It made him narrow his eyes ever so slightly and focus his gaze on me, making me hot and prickly all over my skin. I liked it, so I kept doing it. "Is there something I'm supposed to call you besides Jasper?"
The look, as focused as it had been, was gone in a second. "Everyone else calls me Saint."
"Well, I am your fiancé, right? So I should probably call you Jasper."
Westin grinned then. "I'll leave you two to it. See you tomorrow, Kaya."
"Yeah, bye." I wanted to call out, 'Oh no wait, don't leave me with him.' But that was ridiculous. It wasn't like I was afraid to be with him. And I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me. He just looked... I don't know, intense.
