Page 129 of Sexting His Assistant

I almost choke on my own tongue. “What?”

“A man.”

I make a sound that’s supposed to be a laugh and comes out like a dying kettle. “A man?”

He keeps staring.

I walk past him toward the kitchen because standing still feels dangerous. “And to answer your question, I’m not dating anyone currently.”

Misha watches me pour water into a glass I don’t need. “Why did you answer like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you swallowed a fork.”

I take a sip of water and immediately cough.

He points at me. “Exactly like that.”

“I’m tired.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I say. At least this part isn’t a lie.

His eyes move to the hallway leading to my bedroom.

I move in front of it.

Subtle? No.

Effective? Also no.

His expression changes. “Nina.”

“Don’t Nina me.”

“You look guilty.”

“I always look guilty. I have a very expressive face.”

“You have lipstick on your jaw.”

My soul leaves my body. I slap a hand to my jaw. “What?”

He points.

I rush to the mirror near the door.

There is nothing there.

Nothing.

I turn slowly.

Misha’s face is serious for exactly two seconds before one corner of his mouth twitches.

“You absolute demon,” I hiss.