He might have been enormously intimidating to anyone else, but to me, he was freedom and acceptance personified. I didn’t care what faction he joined or how many tattoos he got, and he accepted me for every one of my flaws and idiosyncrasies. We were a team—a package deal—and I wasn’t about to let anyone tear us apart.

I successfully avoided Nico for two whole days. He had texted and called—presumably acquiring my number from my parents—but I hadn’t read the messages or listened to his voicemails. I knew I was acting childish, but I didn’t know how to handle the situation, so I’d simply avoided it.

After having sex with Nico, I had laid in bed wide-awake with his arm draped over me for hours. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I slipped from the bed and headed for the living room. I managed a few hours of sleep on the sofa, then fled to Starbucks the moment the sun began to rise. I’d done more thinking in two days’ time than I had in my whole lifetime, and I still had no idea what to do.

I was relieved when my boss asked me to come into work on Monday morning. The gallery wasn’t open, but there was always a mountain of paperwork to be done. My boss had a great eye for art and was loads of fun to be around, but he sucked at the administrative aspects of running a gallery. I spent an hour or so rifling through papers and listening to Miles chatter about his weekend when I heard a knock on the glass door. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest at the thought of Nico catching up with me, but I quickly relaxed when I saw Michael peeking through the tinted glass.

Unlocking the deadbolt, I ushered him inside. “Hey, Michael. What’s up?”

“Is that Michael?” called Miles from around the corner. “If I’d known having you here would bring Michael around more often, I would have hired you sooner.” Miles winked at me as he walked over, then gave Michael a hug. “What brings you in?”

“It’s good to see you, Miles. I just needed to have a word with Sofia, if you aren’t too busy.”

“Not at all! We were getting some housekeeping stuff done—nothing super important. You two need me, I’ll be back here buried in the storage closet. If I’m not back in half an hour, send help.” He grabbed a clipboard and disappeared around the corner.

“Is everything okay?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I wanted you to know I did some digging on that detective you talked to, and it looks like he wasn’t a cop. My sources at the city had no record of a James Breechner—nor could I find anything at the state or fed level. Did he show you a badge or any form of identification?”

“No, I can’t believe I didn’t ask for that. Who the hell do you think he is?”