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“I’m okay,” I say, quickly staunching her panic. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Leard?”
“He was a Dud. He…ah, realized that Lieutenant Flint and I knew each other and backed out real quick.”
“Oh. The cop was there?”
“Yes.”
“Shit. Are you on your way home?”
I don’t answer right away. I look at Aiden, sitting in the driver’s seat beside me. I know he can hear our conversation; I am, after all, sitting right beside him. But he doesn’t say anything. He looks at me, and I see everything I’ve ever wanted to see in a man’s eyes.
“No.”
“Where are you going? Out?”
“Yes. I’ll be back later.”
“Okay, where will you be?”
I don’t reply, and not because I don’t want her to know. The girls at Clementine Lane have an agreement that we always keep tabs on each other. It’s generally encompassed by the last of our three rules: Our safety comes first. Toni doesn’t think it’s prudent for us to be anywhere in LA at night alone, so, even if we’re not working, we make sure at least one person knows where we are. The issue is that I don’t know where Aiden is taking me. So, I answer with the only thing that will convince her I’m safe. “I’m with the Lieutenant.”
I can hear Lyla breathing over the line, but she must be stunned into silence because she doesn’t reply. “Lyla?”
“Wasn’t this the one thing Toni told you not to do? Talk to the cops alone?”
“It’s not…” I think of how best to explain. “Work-related,” I decide.
When I glance at Aiden, he’s not grinning, per se, but his lips are fighting a smile.
“Holy. Shit!” Lyla squeals. “You’re banging the cop!”
“No.” I flush, exceptionally embarrassed by the fact that said cop can hear everything in the close confines of the car.
Lyla continues to gush. “This is the best thing that’s happened on Clementine Lane since Lizzie fell bare-assed in that stinging nettle.”
“Lyla.” I try to pull her back.
“Or, when Juliette thought she had herpes and it ended up being chicken pox.” She howls with laughter on the other end of the line, and, goddamn, I can’t help but smile at the memory of Jules lying on her bed, crying furiously because she thought she’d be contagious for the rest of her life.
“Ah.” With a big sigh, Lyla pulls herself in. “Will you be home tonight?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll ping you when I’m on my way back.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, Lyla?”
“Yeah?”
“Do me a favor?”
“You want me to keep it from Toni?” she sighs.
“Just until I figure myself out,” I explain. I try to be as casual as possible. “I don’t know what to do.” I avoid looking at Aiden as I say it. It’s hard enough to admit that I’m confused.
“You know I hate keeping secrets.”
