“I see.”
“And you’re Camile Montez.”
“I am,” I confirm, wondering how he knows my surname. I guess Jack must have told him. What else has Jack said about me and to whom? Has he told everyone about the time I came on to him at the party? Did they all laugh and make fun of me?
My cheeks warm, and I stare at the ground. God, how mortifying.
We reach the canteen, which is just a long hall with benches. There’s a hatch serving food, and a coffee machine on one side. People mill around—mainly guys wearing the same cuts as Rook, but with different patches. There are also a few women. It makes me feel better that I’m not the only female around, and I catch the eye of a couple of them, relieved when they all throw me welcoming smiles. I look around for Jack, hoping I might spot him, my stomach all aflutter again, but there’s no sign of him.
Rook heads straight to the coffee machine and, without asking me what I want or how I like it, pours me a cup. Then he moves on to grab us both a plate of pancakes and bacon, even though I already said I don’t eat breakfast.
He carries it all on a tray over to one of the tables and puts the food down, then gestures for me to sit.
“What if I was a vegetarian?” I say. “Or if I can’t tolerate caffeine?”
He stares at me, and then back down at the plates, and then back up at me again.
“Shit, sorry. I forgot.”
I’m still confused. “Forgot what?”
“That there are choices now. I’m just used to getting what is given. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
When did he have his choices taken from him? Did it have something to do with those homemade tats? I give him a small smile. “Nah.”
“And you drink coffee?”
“Definitely. Just sometimes a girl likes to be asked.”
He nods. “Noted.”
I sit down and pick up a piece of bacon, then crunch into the salty strip. I’m hungrier than I thought. Almost getting killed last night clearly hasn’t done anything to my appetite.
Someone catches my eye. A man is sitting alone in the corner. It’s as though the rest of the world continues around him, while he is in his own little time-space continuum. He’s staring right at me, and I shift in my seat, feeling even more self-conscious.
I lean into Rook and speak under my breath. “Don’t look now, but who is the guy in the corner?”
He chews for a minute, then casually flicks his gaze up and back down. “Oh, that’s Ghost. Don’t worry about him.”
I blink. “Ghost?”
“Yeah, he was at the party that day as well, but he doesn’t say much. He just kind of…”
“Watches?” I fill in, trying to be helpful.
Rook chuckles. “Yeah, he watches, but he’s also deadly. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of him. He’s ex-special forces, and he’s both seen and done some shit in his day.”
A tall figure appears behind Rook, and a hand reachesout and ruffles the prospect’s hair with the flat of his palm.
“What are you doing with my girl?”
It’s Ace.
Rook jerks his head away. “Jack asked me to bring her over for breakfast.”
Ace drops into the space next to Rook, moving with a kind of lolloping grace, like his muscles are too loose for his limbs.
“Aww, damn,” he grins at me ruefully, displaying those cute dimples, “I was going to bring you muffins and shit.”
