Page 111 of The Devil of Downtown

My brows lift. “How?”

“Because she kept looking at me today like she finally solved a math equation she’s been staring at for three years, She’s terrible at pretending she isn’t thinking something.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Yeah, that’s Sloane.”

“How was rehearsal?” he asks, and I can picture him leaning back in some black car with tinted windows, jacket off, tie loosened, looking sexy as hell.

“Exhausting,” I admit. “We ran the swing break four times, then the finale. I think my feet hate me.”

“And the lifts?” he says, too casually to actually be casual.

I groan. “Oh my God, are you still on this?”

“Just making sure no one dropped you,” he replies, sounding smug. “Or touched you too long.”

“Dane.”

“What?” he says, all innocence. “Workplace safety is very important.”

I cover my eyes with my hand, laughing under my breath. “You’re crazy.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

My heart does a weird little flip that I try very hard to ignore.

He clears his throat. “I’ll send Kent to pick you up for dinner.”

“What dinner?”

“The one you’re now going to have at my place,” he says. “I’ll be back late, but you can settle in—”

“No,” I say a little too quick. “I—I can’t tonight.”

There’s a pause. Not cold, not irritated. Just... waiting.

“I need to take Elsie to the school bus in the morning,” I add, which is true. The rest—that I can already feel myself leaning too far toward him—is the part I swallow down.

“Right,” he says, and I can hear the faint disappointment in his tone. “Then another night.”

“Yeah,” I say, tone soft. “Another night.”

He exhales, quieter this time. “Alright. I have to go. Try not to exhaust yourself before I get to see you again.”

“I’m a professional,” I say, pretending I don’t feel warm all over.

“That’s one word for you,” he murmurs, and I can hear his smirk. “Goodnight, Ivy.”

“Goodnight.”

I hang up and stare at my phone for a long moment, pretending my pulse isn’t doing cartwheels. Pretending that I don’t miss him already.

Too late, my brain whispers. Way, way too late.

I startle when soft hands land on my shoulders from behind, Jennie’s citrusy perfume washing over me.

“I hope you’re not running off without saying goodbye.” She drops onto the bench next to me, legs stretched out before her.

“As if I would dare.” I grin.