I thanked God he picked that moment to push the button, leaving no chance to glimpse my reaction. I’d always guessed Karl was in his midforties, and fifty wasn’t much older, but it seemed a lot older.

I could say it didn’t matter—werewolves age slowly, so physically, Karl’s no more than midthirties, but all that means is that when I’m walking down the street with him, I won’t be mistaken for his daughter. In terms of life experience, he is fifty and that’s what counts.

The elevator arrived and we stepped on.

“Is your birthday tomorrow? Or today?” I asked.

He checked his watch. “Oh, I see. Today, then.”

I stood on my tiptoes and brushed my lips across his. “Happy birthday, Karl.”

Before I could step back, he leaned down. His kiss was almost as brief as mine, but firm. Like his hands on my hips, pressing, but not pulling me to him, making me strain forward, hoping for more. But I only got that one brief kiss. When he pulled away, I found myself arching onto my tiptoes, prolonging the contact until the last possible moment. Then I jolted back onto flat feet.

I thought about what I was doing, the door I was reopening. Was I trying to reopen it? And if I was, did that mean I was closing another? I tried to remember Jaz, but his image wouldn’t form. All I could think about was Karl.

My gaze down, I laid a tentative hand on Karl’s chest. I listened to his breathing, felt the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of him through his shirt, sensed his gaze on the top of my head, waiting for me to look up. But I couldn’t.

“I hate this, Karl,” I whispered. “Who’d have thought we’d come to this? You and me, snipping and snapping at each other. I hear us doing it, and I can’t believe it. Not us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You?” I managed a laugh, harsh to my ears. “I’ve been just as bad.”

“But you had a reason to be angry.”

I looked up, finally meeting his gaze. “And, maybe, so do you.”

He inhaled. Exhaled. And looked away.

The elevator climbed another floor.

“Hope…”

His voice was so soft I wasn’t sure I heard him, and I looked up. He touched my chin, fingers gliding up my jaw, so light that when I closed my eyes, I couldn’t feel it. When I looked, his eyes were right there, inches from mine. He tilted my chin up—

The elevator dinged. As the doors opened, we both looked over. In unison, our gazes shunted to the button panel.

“That ‘stop’ button looks pretty good,” I said.