Lila giggles.
I snort. When I meet Nate’s eyes, I see they’ve gone crinkly again.
“Do we have to let them in?” I ask.
“You really think they’re going to give up?” He winces as the pounding continues.
I sigh. “Where’s my shirt?”
***
A few hours later Gemma, Chase, and Lila have been filled in on everything that happened to me. Lila feels horrible for introducing me to Cormack — she’s apologized approximately seventy billion times since she got to Nate’s, despite my assurances that she’s just as much a victim as I was. If she ever sees Padraic — or,Petey— again, he’s in for a serious ass-whooping.
“I’m the worst friend ever,” she announces, collapsing back against the cushion beside me. “It’s official.”
“You took care of Boo while I was gone.” I bump her shoulder with mine. “That means you’re not the worst friend. Maybe in the top ten, but not the absoluteworst.”
“Not funny,” she grumbles. “Would this be a bad time to mention we ate all the Cheez-ITs in your pantry?”
I gasp in faux outrage.
“You didn’t have cupcakes,” Gemma says unapologetically from my other side. “It was the only option.”
Apparently, they’d used my brownstone as a gathering place in the hours after I disappeared — which explains why Nate was with Lila when I called from the burner phone.
I smile and stare at my hands, doing everything in my power to keep my eyes off him. He and Chase are by the kitchen island, talking in hushed tones, no doubt plotting revenge against Mac and his boys. He’s barely glanced my way, since they arrived.
There’s a strange tension between us, now. Different than before.
In the past, we’ve circled with a caustic kind of caution, careful not to get too close for fear of ripping each other’s heads off. Now, I’m afraid if I get too close I’ll rip off something else.
Namely, his clothing.
“You look like crap,” Lila says, staring at my swollen eye. “Have you been to bed, yet?”
To bed? Yes.
To sleep? No.
Do not look at Nate. I repeat, donotlook at Nate.
I stare harder at my fingers, which have knotted together. “Not exactly.”
“Well, we’re going back to my place, then. I’ll make you a big cup of tea, give you a valium, and you can recuperate with a nice drug-induced coma.”
“No drugs,” I say immediately. I’m surprised she’d even suggest such a thing – she knows how I feel about prescription pills.
She sighs. “One Valium won’t kill you.”
“Lila.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine.”
Gemma’s hand lands on mine. “You can come to the penthouse, if you want. It’s safe there. Chase’s security guys won’t let anyone in.”
“Thanks, but I just want to go home. Sleep in my own bed, and all.”
An uncompromising voice cuts in. “You’re staying here, where you can’t get into any more trouble.”