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Only half of that was the answer I was hoping for. I swiveled in my seat to face her entirely. “What does that mean?”
“He goes through periods,” she said, shrugging. “Lots of hookups. Nothing serious,” she added quickly, as if this mattered to me. “Absolutely no one since he made that bargain with you.”
“He must be getting off on pissing me off,” I grumbled.
“I think that’s only part of it,” she said with a laugh.
I couldn’t believe I was about to go there, but I couldn’t stop myself. “So has he had any serious relationships?”
Her smile was now saucy with an extra side of sauce. Great. “Not for, like, a century.”
My heart clanged at this piece of information—both the reminder of how old he was and how long it had been since he’d cared about someone. “And I thought I was having a dry spell.”
“He likes you,” she said, eyes darting over to me again, “and I think you like him, too.”
“I can’t decide if I like him or if I want to kill him.” That was true, at least.
“Now I’m beginning to wonder if you’re in love with him.”
I patted her shoulder. “I’m starting to worry about what you look for in a relationship.”
“I see the way he lights up when he looks at you,” she said, sailing past my joke. “And how do you explain the way he’s acting?” She dangled the question without explanation. The trap was obvious. If I really didn’t care about him, I wouldn’t press her to explain what she meant. It wouldn’t matter to me how he was acting. There was only one problem…
I took the bait. “How is he acting?”
She smirked. “Like he’s off the market.”
Before I could tell her she was imagining things—as much for my benefit as her clarification—a call came over the speaker. My heart skipped when I saw his name on the touch screen.
“Speak of the devil.” She accepted the call. “We were just talking about you.”
I cringed, sliding down in my seat and praying she didn’t tell him why we were talking about him.
But Lach was not in a playful mood. “Can I assume my…Cate is with you?”
My what? What was he about to call me? Why had he paused? Had any simple question ever raised so many other questions?
She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Yes, she is.” She shot me a look.
“How far are you two from home?” Annoyance seethed in his voice. “Where are you?”
Ciara cursed, and I knew she was thinking what I was. Had our luck run out at the lab? Because he sounded pissed, and I couldn’t think of anything I’d done to upset him today.
“What’s wrong?” I cut in. I was already at my overanalysis quota for the day. I didn’t need to spend the rest of the drive home obsessing over why he was angry.
“Your brother just walked into the lobby of the Avalon and threatened the first person he saw, who just so happened to be Bain.”
Shit.
“In front of every other court.”
Double shit.
“I’m on my way home,” I promised, suddenly thankful for Ciara’s lead foot.
“I’d hurry.” His voice was strained. “I might have promised not to hurt him, but I can’t vouch for Bain. We’re in my office.”
What the hell had Channing done now? The call cut off, and I turned to Ciara. “How fast does this thing go?”