“They were talking about it,” she says.
I glance over the rim of my mug. “Talking about what?”
“You,” she clarifies, already grinning. “Well. About him and you.”
I blink. “You’re going to have to narrow that down.”
“Derek,” she says. “Mark. Alex. Door closed. Voices low. The whole ‘boys club conspiracy’ vibe.”
Despite myself, I smile. “And?”
“He had no idea.”
My smile fades. “No idea about…?”
Jamie scoffs. “About you liking him.”
I stare at her. “How could he not know?”
She shrugs. “He’s a dumbass?”
“Well,” I admit, “that part tracks.”
She laughs. “You’ve been obvious, Audra. For months.”
“I have not.”
She gives me a look. “You absolutely have.”
I lean back against the counter, folding my arms. “Okay, maybe I didn’t throw myself at him like his usual stage-five clingers. But I was clear. Professional-clear. Competent-clear.”
“Which is apparently invisible to men like Derek Pierce,” Jamie says. “Especially when it comes wrapped in boundaries.”
I sigh and take a sip of my coffee. “So what did they say?”
Jamie’s grin turns smug. “Mark thinks you want him. Alex thinks you’re going to destroy him. Derek thinks you hate him.”
I laugh. “I do hate him.”
“But you still want him.”
I open my mouth, then close it again.
Jamie raises a brow. “You need someone who doesn’t fold.”
I shake my head. “Wanting someone and hating them are not mutually exclusive.”
“No,” she agrees. “Especially not in your case.”
I watch the coffee swirl in my mug. “I don’t respond to easy.”
Her smile softens just a touch. “Exactly.”
She glances at the clock on the wall. “They were talking about going to The Vault tonight.”
My pulse skips. Just slightly.
“The Vault?” I repeat casually.
