When we step into the apartment, my jaw just about hits the floor. This is our super-secret hideout? Completely modern penthouse with new-looking furniture, a shitload of space, and parquetry floors so fucking polished I can make out my reflection in them?

It almost makes up for being shot at.

“Holy fuck,” Lars lets out, striding ahead and pulling back the curtains in the living area. He reveals a deep red sunset, bathing Seattle in shadows, no neighboring building impeding the view.

So this is how the other half lives.

“Three bedrooms,” Lars calls out. “One each.”

“Convenient.”

“I’ll take the one closest to the front door. St. Clare can have the main; pest, you can have the other.”

“Pest?” Perry echoes, dropping his backpack off onto the enormous couch.

“Well, you’re not exactly welcome.”

“I happen to think I’m an excellent asset to the team.”

Lars raises his eyebrows my way. “He would.”

“I dunno …” I watch the way Perry tests out the bouncability of the couch before moving on to inspecting the random knickknacks through the space and landing in the kitchen, where he pulls open every drawer and cupboard in front of him. “He’s less of a pest and more like … our mascot.” Cute and entertaining being the first two words I think of when it comes to him. That, and his puppy dog eyes. “Like a pet.”

Perry checks the date on a box of mac and cheese. “I could be a pet.”

Of course he could.

“As long as I’m not expected to wear a tail or anything like that. I’m game to try it if that’s what you really want, but I have a hunch it’s not for me.”

“I don’t think the tail is necessary.”

He drops the box onto the counter and rubs his lower stomach. The apron is gone, but his thin shirt tugs up a little, showing off the skin above his jeans. “No, but food is. If we don’t get something soon, I’m gonna have to tear into two-months-expired pasta.”

“We just ate,” I remind him.

“I’m a growing boy.”

“You’re actually not.”

He huffs and rips into the box.

“Stop.” Lars’s face is pulled up in disgust. “I’ll duck down to the convenience store we passed on the way here for food and maybe some clothes if they have them. Both of you stay here. Maybe take a shower.”

“Together?”

I choke on fucking air at Perry’s question. “Was that an invitation?”

“Wh-what? No. I …” He thrusts his finger Lars’s way. “He wasn’t clear!”

Lars looks worried for him again. “I didn’t think that was something that needed clarifying.”

Perry’s head hangs back, and I’m not sure whether he’s talking to us or the ceiling. “I should have let them shoot me.”

Lars’s head tilts to the side. “Was that an invitation?”