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She narrowed her eyes at me. “Another rule—this isnota date. You don’t do anything creepy or assume this is anything more than what it is. I don’t like you like that. I don’t like you at all.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“Good. Then yes, by all means, buy all the food. We’ll meet at your place at seven.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
She returned my phone then held out her hand. “A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Stryker.”
I wrapped my fingers around her hand. Her skin was warm, her shake as firm and feisty as the rest of her. But as she pulled her hand away from mine and I watched her go, a sinking feeling settled over me.
Everything was about to change. I was trusting my fate to the most unpredictable person I’d ever met.
It hadn’t been an intellectual weighing of pros and cons that led me here. It had been impulse, which was utterly out of character for me. The prospect was terrifying.
Even more terrifying, the reasonable dread I felt about seeing her again mingled with something unfamiliar: some minuscule, perverse part of me was looking forward to it.
ELEVEN
LAYANA
Morgan opened the driver’s side door to her car, where I sat waiting for her in the passenger seat.
“Hey,” I said, with a small wave she may or may not have been able to see.
She stood completely still, too still, like she’d been hit with an ice ray.
I’d texted. She knew I was here, didn’t she?
She stumbled a step backward. I watched her features contort in shock as she scanned the back seat and then her eyes met mine.
She clenched her chest.“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “I texted that I was coming.”
Things were usually easier between the two of us, like we shared the same brain and she always knew exactly what I meant even if I said it wrong. But since she’d gotten engaged, it seemed we were a bit out of sync.
Morgan slipped into the seat beside me, shut the door, and checked her phone. There on her screen, exactly as I’d said it would be, was a text from me.
Layana: I have news. You’re going to want to hear it in person. I’ll be waiting in your car so don’t freak out.
“I didn’t see this,”she said on a slow, deliberate breath.
“I gathered that by your reaction. Next time I’ll sit on the roof.”
“I don’t know if that would be better or worse.” She deflated into the driver’s seat and tossed her bag into the back. “So what’s up? What’s this news I want to hear?”
My hands felt clammy all of a sudden. Was I nervous? Why would I be nervous? It was probably residual shock from the whole me-lying-in-wait misunderstanding.
“If our roles were reversed, I’d expect you to tell me, so here goes,” I said. “I’m going to Running Man’s house to work for him.”
“What?” Morgan’s tone was arsenic laced with disapproval. “The guy who wants to murder you or make you his sex slave?”
“No.” I smiled my most reassuring smile. “That was all a misunderstanding.”
“How?”
I shrugged. “He wants to hire me for some pics and videos.”
