Cal picked up on the first ring, like he always did. He greeted, “How do you like the new digs?”

“So far, they’re working well: small, private, exclusive. As long as the staff remain discreet, I might use them again.”

He grunted, popping something into his mouth and chewing. “You know what else you should use? Security. They’d be useful to have around.”

“I can move around easier on my own.”

Another grunt. He kept chewing. “Don’t be calling my ass in the middle of the night when you have some stalker breaking in to rape your behind. I do a lot of services for you, but personal security is not one of them.”

A small grin formed at the corner of my mouth. “You’re one of the best private investigators I know, but I can hold my own with fighting.”

“Yeah, sure. All that time in prison really hardened you, huh?”

A slight chuckle slipped out. “It didn’t make me softer.”

His own laugh faded, and it was time for business. “So, what’s up? You don’t call for social chats.”

“I had an incident earlier. A cab driver recognized Jordan.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s there?”

I ignored that part. “I got his dash camera and his USB cord, but he could be a problem.”

“You got the number of the car?” After I told him, he said, “All right. I’ll track him down and see if we need to put precautions in place or not.” He was quiet for a beat. “If I were your family or on your legal team or, hell, even on your publicist team, I would advise against having that girl anywhere close to you. But I’m not, and I know that you’re going to do whatever you want. Just be smart, Kian. You’re a good kid. Hell, you’re not a kid with the shit you’ve gone through. You’re damn smart. I wouldn’t want you to throw away your freedom for a piece of vagina.”

I grinned, checking over my shoulder. Jo was in the living room with the television turned on.

“Cal, if I were going to throw away my freedom for a piece of vagina, it’d have to be yours. Shriveled up, smelly—”

“Shut up.” He laughed. “All right. I’ll check on all of this. I mean it, be smart. I know you want to protect this girl. It landed you in trouble, but sometimes, you have to do what’s in your best interest. She doesn’t have anyone hurting her this time.”

After saying good-bye, I waited outside. Jo was sitting on a side couch, so I could see her profile. She didn’t know where I was. She kept glancing toward the front hallway and then to the back hallway leading to the back elevator. She wasn’t guarded in this one instance. I absorbed every inch of her, as much as I could.

Cal was right. There was no Edmund hurting her.

Her current boyfriend, whomever he was to her, wasn’t violent. He came from an upper middle-class background. The worst secret he had was a cheating father, or so Cal’s report had told me. She wasn’t in danger from him or her roommate, the overzealous reporter.

I lied to Jo before. I knew who her roommate was long before I decided to interview with the school’s paper. I set everything in place. No matter what, Jo had to be taken care of.

And here we were.

I was the danger to her now.

I needed to decide what to do—or what not to do. If she stayed at my side, I wouldn’t be able to hold back from touching her. Then again, if I told her the truth about everything, that wouldn’t be a problem.

She’d want nothing to do with me.

Jake was concerned and Erica wanted to make sure everything was fine. Neither of them seemed suspicious, and Snark told me that I’d need to wear a shirt with my old name on it for people to put two and two together.

“Is everything okay?”

Kian appeared from some corner of the place. His phone was in his hand as he sat on the coffee table in front of me.

Fuck. I couldn’t look away from him. Those dark eyes of his could look right into me and know me. With everything about him, I wanted to be right where I was, with him. My mind was telling me to go. Discovery was not imminent—at least, not yet. I’d worked myself up. I’d panicked and bolted for him.

What was I doing?

My legs didn’t move. My arms didn’t move to push myself up from the couch. My feet weren’t going to walk me out of there. My ass stayed in place. I did not want to leave.

Oh, screw it.

I blurted out, “I’m attracted to you.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back. “Oh.” That was his reaction, that one word. That was it.

I held my breath. That’s it?

I blinked. “Um.” Backpedal. Retreat. Run. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” He shot forward, his hand held up, reaching between us. He looked at it. I looked at it, and it went back to his lap.

“Uh.” He shook his head, blinking a few times. The laughter started with one small chuckle. A second, and a third that was louder. He kept shaking his head before he looked up. He saw the non-laughter coming from me and sighed. “Sorry. I’m laughing at myself, not you. This is…” His hands clasped together on his lap. “I’m so controlled, and you’ve punched right through everything. There it is, and I’m here thinking how much I want to hold you, but I’m too scared to tell you.”

Wait.

He kept going, “Hearing those words, I’m…at a loss.”

Did he say…

“But this whole thing, with the media, it’s your life now that we’re looking at. My team will get me off. They’re going to argue that I should’ve never been convicted in the first place. It was self-defense—I mean, it was defense for you. That was proven. A dirty judge was the real reason I was convicted, and, yeah, maybe they’ll go the double-jeopardy route. I don’t know their angle, but I trust them. I won’t be convicted again, but, Jordan…”

He kept talking, but his voice became distant and low.

He wanted to hold me. That was what he just said. The warmth of those words began to spread through me. I had known it. I’d thought it, but to hear those words…and he was so close, but still sitting so far away.

He kept talking, something about his legal team’s agenda. His voice grew clear again, and he finished with a final resigned note, “I don’t want anything to happen that could hurt you.”