The way she smiled at me was both wicked and sweet, challenging me as she placated me. Most people would never dare. Most would be running scared.

Not her. Why the hell wasn’t she scared of me?

Better yet, why didn’t I want her to be?

I sighed, straightening up and stepping back. “Watch yourself, fucktoy. Manson will get really pissed if I spank you right now.”

“Mm, well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” The tone of her voice said she absolutely fucking would, the little brat. She slipped out of the pantry, snatching a box of crackers as she went, and I turned my attention to the bottles of wine on her counter. I eventually chose something dark with an interesting label — I wasn’t a wine guy, but Manson liked reds.

“Glasses are in the cabinet to your right,” she said. I didn’t know why she was watching me fumble around with this when she could have been comfortably cuddling with Manson on the couch. I grabbed a couple coffee mugs since they were the first things I saw in the cabinet, filling them to the brim and taking a heavy sip of mine.

As I lowered the mug, Jess looked like she was holding back laughter.

“What?” I snapped without meaning to, but it didn’t faze her.

“You’re not used to this, are you?” she said, and my pride bristled.

“I’ve had sex before, Jess,” I said. “Plenty of times.”

“I don’t mean sex.” She laughed. “I mean this. Like, being with someone.”

Oh. Right. I guess it was that obvious. I didn’t belong here, in this nice house, surrounded by photos of Jessica’s family and her mom’s Live Laugh Love decor.

I hadn’t felt that way when I’d broken in. Getting Jason to disarm the security system, borrowing Vincent’s lock pick kit, creeping through the house with Manson and texting some creepy messages had just been part of the game. But I’d played my round and the fact that I was still lingering felt far more invasive than having broken in in the first place.

“I’m not the sit-and-talk type. I’m not usually stuck with someone for this long.” She froze for a moment, and I winced. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not stuck. We broke into your fucking house.” I sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over my head. “Do you want me to leave?”

Me, not we. I was the odd one out here with my fucked-up hang-ups. Besides, Jess had never liked me. She’d liked the idea of me, sure, that much was obvious. But me? As a person? That was laughable.

But she shook her head, looking at me like I’d suggested something ludicrous.