Niko doesn’t move, but I clock the tension anyway.
This, whatever the fuck this is, is new territory for all of us. Enzo and I have never gone after the same woman before. Now, we’re in his SUV basically stalking one. Luca has every right to wonder what the hell is going on.
Then, because deflection is my love language, I add, “Also, just to put it out there… As your token bisexual best friend, I’m not opposed to a little sharing. And spoiler alert, neither is she. We’ve…done that several times.”
He looks at me for several long beats without saying anything. No immediate dismissal. No scoff.
Interesting.
When I learned Pippa’s real name, I was ecstatic. I couldn’t believe my luck. I immediately thought about showing up outside her office—perhaps even pretending it was a coincidence—and finally introducing myself. Myrealself. Having her name felt like an opportunity.
I haven’t known how to feel since realizingwhyEnzo and Eva sent me her name.
I can’t blame my best friend for being drawn to her—I can’t blame anyone for being pulled in by her orbit. Shit, I understand it better than most.
Images have entered my thoughts without permission since last night. Fantasies I try not to think about too often. Enzoknows I’m bisexual, and he’s too good-looking to fool himself into thinking I’ve never thought of him that way.
The idea of himandPippa?Fuck. I remind myself not to get hard in the back of this SUV just thinking about the three of us together.
Unfortunately, our line in the sand has been well-established for a long time. Enzo is straight. He’s never once indicated otherwise.
I’m lost in these thoughts and daydreams when I spot Pippa take a turn on her walk. “The hell? Is she going to the Old Wharf?” That area is about half a mile south of respectability, and way outside the Capital’s comfort zone.
“Yeah, this isn’t the side of town where a woman like her would usually spend time. Alone,” Enzo grumbles as he watches her round a corner flanked by graffiti-tagged brick and a flickering streetlamp.
“This is giving serious back-alley rendezvous energy,” I say with a wink at Enzo, just to get under his skin.
Niko exhales then coughs to clear his throat.
Luca doesn’t laugh, but he fights a smile.
“You’re an idiot,” Enzo mutters.
“Correct.”
We let the conversation fade as we follow her.
Jane—Pippais walking deeper into the abandoned warehouse area of the Old Wharf. She seems locked into a destination, navigating this area like it’s her second fucking home. She approaches one of the larger warehouses and disappears behind a side door with a keypad lock. And shit, just like that, I know Enzo’s hunch about her is edging closer to correct. No one walks into a warehouse locked with a keypad in the Old Wharf unless they’re hiding something, damn it.
“Well, brother, those instincts of yours may have hit the mark again,” I say.
“What do you think’s inside?” he asks.
I keep my eyes locked on the entrance. “Something she doesn’t want on the Hill.”
He grunts in response.
“What’s the play here?”
Enzo calls Eva. She picks up on the first ring.
“You’re on speaker,” Enzo says. He gives her an update, then asks, “Think you can give us a peek inside?”
She makes a sound halfway between a cheer and a gasp—pure hacker glee. “You know just how to make a girl’s night.”
I tell her the address, and I hear keys clicking on a keyboard.
“I’m tapping traffic cams, alley feeds, anything in a five-block radius . . . ” she says, then, “Hm. That’s odd.”
