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“Jesus,” he mutters, jaw tightening, which just draws my attention to his mouth all over again. My God, it’s beautiful, like a sculptor chiseled that shit, and his jawline cuts sharp as an edge of glass. “So, where’s your partner, then?”

And did I mention the fucking shoulders, ’cause holy moly.

Shit. Fucking pivot, Jax. Focus, man. He asked me something, right? Didn’t he? Oh, yeah. He asked me for proof I wasn’t just having a lovely wank in this third-floor decidedly off-limits bathroom—

“My partner scrammed when he heard you coming,” I inform him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Which is why I’m looking for a stand-in.”

Finally, he pulls that laser-intense gaze away, diverts it toward the back of the bathroom. This is the part where I should run, while he’s distracted—but something tells me even I’m not fast enough to escape him.

“Jack and Jill setup,” he says, confirming my lie about my disappearing partner—who might have dipped through a side door.

Run, run, Nicholas.

I bet he’s not. I bet he’s stuck around to watch, because as much as it’s personal for me, he’d love nothing more than to see me caught. Interrogated. It’s fucking personal for him too.

If he laid this trap for me, I don’t think he’ll be running off quite so quickly. I tell ya, when you make it personal, that’s when you get fucked. And not in the good way.

“Well, if you’re not interested in this . . .” I return my gaze to Blondie as I sweep a hand down my jacket. “I’m gonna find someone who is.”

I lean forward from the wall, take one step, and his hand shoots out to rest on my elbow before I can walk past. It’s the lightest touch, barely a brush of fingertips, but it halts me right the fuck in my tracks. “What are you really doing here?”

The words stop me as effectively as that hand on my sleeve. Tear through my calm, shattering—what? My confidence? The illusion I’ve crafted of my own life? How does he see through me like that?

Fucking pivot, Jax.

I tilt my head up to throw him a smirk and a wink, and lean in a bit closer. Purposely don’t inhale because I don’t want to breathe in the soft scents of his soap or his skin, don’t need anything else muddling my good senses.

We’re so close, it’s like I’m breathing him in anyway.

His eyes widen behind the mask, like whatever I’m feeling, he’s feeling something of it too. Maybe that’s what makes me bold enough to ask, “The question goes both ways, Blondie. What are you doing here?”

“Maybe it does,” he murmurs, one of his brows arching over the top of that goddamned mask. “And maybe neither of us know why.”

The answer surprises me—the honesty.

“The alignment of the stars?” I murmur, soft enough Nick—wherever he’s lurking—won’t hear it. “Fate? Maybe we’re star-crossed, soul-bound lovers? Fated mates? Or maybe we’re both hunting the same predator.”

So, I take a gamble. A bold, stupid fucking shot in the dark. “The Rogue, no? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Both his brows lift, and I know, I know I’ve played him. Again. I’d say it’s too easy, but it’s not, not really. Not with him. He’s something else, something hard and uncrackable, but for some reason, I’ve got the right cards for this play.

Luck, honestly. Can’t even take credit for this shit.

Maybe that’s what makes me want to say fuck it. Let him search my pockets, extract whatever useless ChapStick trinket Nick’s stolen that I’ve swapped out for the stupid sapphire necklace I should’ve just snagged and peaced the fuck out.

Maybe that’s what makes me want to let Nick run. Let him get away. Win the night.

I don’t know what it is, can’t explain fucking any of it, but something makes me bold. Bold enough to lean forward, cup my fingers against my blond boy’s cheek. Almost—almost—dare to breathe in his faded scent.

Time freezes one more time tonight.

Him and me, us, my cool fingertips on his warm, hard skin.

Electricity zings through my bones. My breath catches against the back of my throat, like I’ve forgotten the basics of inhalation. The smallest gasp escapes from between his parted lips.

Fuck. Me.

He’s fire, and I’m a forest ready to burn.