Silence ticked between us and awareness trickled in. I wasn’t living behind a damn two-way mirror and I’d never had a poker face. Will could probably read every single thought I’d just had.

His eyes darkened in understanding, and he took one step closer, looking me over from head to foot as if inspecting an animal caught in a trap. A gorgeous, deadly smile tugged at his mouth. “What’s the verdict?”

I swallowed thickly, closing my fists around sweaty hands, saying only, “Will?”

He blinked, and then blinked again, stepping back and seeming to remember himself. I could practically see the realizations tick through his mind: this is Jensen’s baby sister . . . she’s seven years younger than I am . . . I made out with Liv . . . this kid is a dork . . . stop thinking with your dick.

He winced slightly, saying, “Right, sorry,” under his breath.

I relaxed, amused by the reaction. Unlike me, Will had an infamous poker face . . . but not here, and apparently not with me. That understanding sent a jolt of confidence through my chest: he might be nearly irresistible and the most naturally sensual man on the planet, but Hanna Bergstrom could handle Will Sumner.

“So,” I said. “Not ready to settle down, then?”

“Definitely not.” His smile pulled up one corner of his mouth and he looked completely destructive. My heart and lady bits would not survive a night with this man.

Good thing that’s not even an option, vagina. Stand down.

We’d circled back around to the beginning of the trail, and Will leaned against a tree. “So why are you diving into the world of the living now?” He tilted his head as he turned the conversation back to me. “I know Jensen and your dad want you to have a more active social life, but come on. You’re a pretty girl, Ziggs. It can’t be that you haven’t had offers.”

I bit my lip for a second, amused that of course Will would assume that, for me, this was about getting laid. The truth was . . . he wasn’t entirely wrong. And there was no judgment in his expression, no weird distance around such a personal topic.

“It’s not that I haven’t dated. It’s that I haven’t dated well,” I said, remembering my most recent, completely bland encounter. “I know it might be hard to tell behind all this smooth charm but I’m not very good in those kinds of situations. Jensen’s told me stories. You managed to get through your doctorate with top honors and what sounds like a whole lot of fun. Here I am, in a lab with people who seem to consider social awkwardness a field of study. Not really that many jumping in the boat, if you know what I mean.”

“You’re young, Ziggs. Why are you worrying about this now?”

“I’m not worried about it, but I’m twenty-four. I have functioning body parts and my mind tends to go to interesting places. I just want to . . . explore. You weren’t thinking about these things when you were my age?”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t stressing over it.”

“Of course you weren’t. You’d lift an eyebrow and panties would hit the floor.”

Will licked his lips, reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “You’re a trip.”

“I’m a scientist, Will. If I’m going to do this I need to learn how men think, get inside their head.” I took a deep breath, watched him carefully before saying, “Teach me. You told my brother you’d help me, so do that.”

“Pretty sure he didn’t mean Hey, show my kid sister the city, make sure she isn’t paying too much for rent, and, by the way, help her get laid.” His dark brows pulled together as something seemed to occur to him. “Are you asking me to set you up with a friend?”

“No. God.” I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to laugh or crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of forever. Despite his DEFCON 5 degree of hotness, what I needed was for him to help me bang the smirk off other men. Maybe then I’d be properly degeeked and socialized. “I want your help to learn . . .” I shrugged and scratched my hair beneath the hat. “How to date. Teach me the rules.”

He blinked away, looking torn. “The ‘rules’? I don’t . . .” He shivered, letting his words fall away as he reached up to scratch his jaw. “I’m not sure I am qualified to help you meet guys.”

“You went to Yale.”

“Yeah, and? That was years ago, Ziggs. I don’t think they offered this in the course catalog.”

“And you were in a band,” I continued, ignoring that last part.

Finally, amusement lit up his eyes. “What’s your point?”