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Thor glares defensively. “Possums don’t need shutters to begin with!”

“I don’t know how many times I need to tell you this . . .” I say slowly. “She needs to be able to dramatically throw them open at dusk to scream.”

Logan grins, nodding for another card. Shit, I haven’t been paying attention; I pry up the edge and peek at my hand. Meh. I take another bite of my burger and drop my chin to accept a third card. It’s trash. Looks like I’ll be bluffing this round.

“What color are you painting Deb’s place?” Logan asks.

“Debra,” I correct. “She only lets me call her Deb, and I dunno, maybe pink.”

Thor and Logan exchange conspiratorial looks and I hear Kelly bark a Ha! from the back room. I snap my head toward the direction of her voice; I didn’t realize she was still here. “Eavesdropping is rude, Kelly!”

The rest of them laugh, like I’ve just said the most unserious thing ever.

“Bold words from the guy who treats privacy laws like a personal invitation.” I can practically hear the eye roll.

“Something you two want to share with the class?” I ask.

They shake their heads, shrugging.

Logan clears his throat. “You seem to be interested in that color lately.”

My hand covers my heart. “Yes, it’s so brave of me.” It’s not lost on me that they’re referencing Anna. That woman is a walking, talking billboard for pink. She’s basically its PR director. Speaking of . . . I check my phone to confirm she’s headed home from the community center. She wasn’t kidding about routine, her level of predictability is concerning—it’s unsafe.

“Your bet,” Thor says.

I toss in a couple chips without looking. I’ve been tracking her whereabouts for the last couple weeks. When I first noticed her at the community center outside of town, I looked up the event calendar online and saw that Narcotics Anonymous meetings are held there. There are several other locations closer to her house, but she must prefer this one because she drives out of her way to go. On Thursdays she attends a dance class. Beyond that, she’s pretty much a homebody—save for her daily jogs. Thanks to my ability to hack into the Department of Transportation camera system, I’ve already mapped her route. She seriously needs to learn how to switch it up, she’s practically handing herself over on a platter to creeps.

The guys fold and I collect the chips. Suckers.

“I saw she’s on your schedule tomorrow. Didn’t you finish that sleeve?” Logan asks.

“Yes.” I pop the last bite of the burger in my mouth and wipe my hands on a napkin before sweeping the cards into my palm and shuffling.

“Oh, I get it. He’s in the honeymoon phase.”

Thor lips twitch. “Ah yes, the preliminary investigation.”

Fuck these guys. “The game is war. Aces are high,” I announce, doling out hands.

“This feels like more than his usual two-week free trial. How many appointments have you had with her now? Four? Five?”

My brows rise. “Uh-oh. Is somebody tracking my calendar? Jesus, it’s a cover-up commission. She’s just got a fucked-up scar is all.”

Once the cards are divvied up, I flip the top one in my stack. Seven of hearts. Glancing up, I wait for them.

Thor looks confused. “How do you even bet in this game?”

“I bet you a hundred dollars I win,” I blurt. “Are we playing or what?”

Thor shakes his head and tosses in a couple chips. “Two hundred says you don’t.”

Logan cocks his head at me and narrows his eyes. “Holy shit.” He leans toward me on his forearms and I sit back. “You’re not watching her because you want her . . . You’re watching because you’re worried about her.”

I stare back at him, my fingers stacking and restacking my chips without looking at them.

Eventually he sits back with a pleased grin and flips over his card. Nine. Goddamn it.

“You actually give a damn,” Logan continues.