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She looked at him. "He said that the killer might belong to a gang from Petrichor. Do you know anything about that?"
His eyebrows shot up as he looked at her hard. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, just wondering. Might you know any other gangs there?"
Other?
"Giselle." Xavier's voice was firm. "How the hell would I know?"
She frowned. "Oh, of course. I was just wondering..." she mumbled, her cheeks tinting red.
"Don't."
"It's just..." She gulped. "You live there, so... I just thought maybe you knew about—"
His voice raised as he said, "How would I know?"
It took all of Chris's willpower for him not to grab Xavier by his throat and throw him out of the house.
Could he not see that her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment? That she'd sucked in her lower lip so no one could see it trembling? That her voice had gone so small it was barely audible?
He wanted to strangle him for doing this to his girl.
"Everything okay, man?" Xavier asked.
Chris realized he'd been glaring at him, so he blinked a few times, cleared his throat, and said, "Yeah."
Chris glanced at Giselle, who looked away the moment their eyes met.
Chris got up. "I gotta go."
She looked at him. "But lunch..."
"I'm full. I just really need to get to work." He gave her a soft smile.
"But you said—"
He cut her off, needing air. "Are we on for tomorrow?"
"Oh, yeah, of course." The same strand of hair fell on her face again. He resisted the urge to kneel in front of her and tuck it behind her ear.
"Okay, see you at seven."
He turned to go but froze at Xavier's voice. "What's tomorrow?"
"Oh, it's just a charity event," she said.
"You two are going as...?"
Couple? No, Xavier, because you came and ruined all my plans.
She cleared her throat. "Just friends."
"Friends do that a lot here?" he asked, failing in his attempt to sound amused and light-natured.
Chris turned around to look at them, wondering how many years he'd serve for chopping off his tongue.
Giselle looked at Xavier with panic. "I don't know, I mean... It's just..."
