“Tonic lives with an aunt in the Seaport.” He places the picture back on the stack of pages, tapping it absently before looking at me with a flat smile. “Has Darcy seen it?”

I grip my arms more tightly. “He bought a deck the first night he came in. Or, Charles did and had Darcy pay.”

Wickham chuckles. There’s an edge in it I don’t like.

He settles against my desk. “Charles Bingley. I never understood his loyalty to Darcy. He worships Will. A total ‘jump, how high’ situation. It’s almost embarrassing. Though it’s probably why Will is so protective of him.” His lips pull in sympathetically and his demeanor softens. “This stuff with your roommate is really screwed up. The Twins said Charles and Jane seemed legit.”

I relax my arms a bit. “I thought so, too.”

He scrubs his chin, leaning more of his weight against the desk. “Charles was always the friendlier of the two—more thoughtful. I wonder what changed. Maybe Will’s influence.” He rests his hands on the writing surface. “Though you were getting pretty friendly with ol’ Darcy the other night.”

The challenge in his tone makes my stomach curdle. “Excuse me?”

Wickham’s smile evaporates, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He taps the desktop, fingers rapping tunelessly against the dark wood.

I blink. What the hell happened to the easygoing flake I had drinks with? “I know you two have a history—”

“Did Will say something about me?” The sharp question is more an accusation than an inquiry.

Or is it an admission? “Is there something to tell?”

Wickham’s jaw goes tight. “He’s not who you think he is,” he says, as though I have even half a handle on what to expect from Will Darcy. “That man will do or say anything to protect what he values.”

The comment lands hard, though I doubt my interpretation is what he wants me to get out of it. “Did you mean to imply that he values me, or is there something else you wanted to put across?”

He watches me for a moment, his gaze less severe, more assessing. “No.” His voice is cool. “Though you’ve made a few things easier than they might have been before.”

I throw up my hands. Does something happen when you spend your adulthood bouncing between the coasts? Because neither Darcy nor Wickham seems capable of a singular personality. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Wickham. He said not to go into business with you. Unless you intend to poach me from Toby, I’d say the advice doesn’t apply.”