“You have no idea.”
Zane crawled out of bed and spent a few minutes in the bathroom. Luke used the opportunity to check his phone.
A call from his mom. One from his sister, which was almostsure to be from his niece. She liked to steal her mom’s phone and call him at random times when her mom didn’t know she had it.
No calls, texts, or emails from Faith.
Zane reentered the room. Athletic pants, T-shirt, bare feet, and a to-go cup of coffee. “Spill it.”
Luke ignored him. “Where’d you get that?”
“The detail brought some this morning. It’s in the hall.”
“Huh.” He’d slept through it.
“Spill.”
“I need coffee.”
“We don’t have all day.”
“I’m feeling the love, man.” Luke opened the door and found a small room service tray in the hall with several coffees, his favorite Americano among them. He nodded at the officer standing guard, grabbed the Americano and a chocolate croissant, and returned to the room. He took several sips and then flopped down next to Zane at the small table in the corner of the room. “I blew it.”
“What did you do?” Zane didn’t argue with you when you owned up to being an idiot, and he wasn’t the type to try to make you feel better when you screwed up. More the type to help you not screw up again.
“Went off on the FBI.”
Zane’s response was to take a sip of coffee and stare at him.
“I told her I didn’t trust the FBI and implied that I didn’t trust her either. And for good measure, I mentioned that my family would rather I went into a life of crime than become an FBI agent.”
That earned him a raised eyebrow.
“I did apologize.”
Zane rolled his eyes.
“But we didn’t leave on good terms.”
Zane tipped his coffee in Luke’s direction. “I would think thisconversation about the FBI was a bit overdue. Your feelings on that agency are well-known. She needs to know how you feel before things get too far, unless...”
Here it comes.
“How farhavethings gotten between you two?” Zane didn’t ask in a voyeuristic way. Not even in a nosy friend way.
It made it easier to answer honestly. “We’ve kissed.”
“Often?”
“No.”
“Are we talking more than a quick peck?”
“Yeah.”
“Who started it?”
“She kissed me on the cheek. As a thank-you. But then...” Luke set the coffee on the table and picked at the edges of his croissant. “I’m an idiot.”
