“I don’t see why I have to know—” Dorsey stopped short. The terror in her eyes made him whip around to assess the danger.

But there was no danger, only Isaiah, slick and wolf-fanged.

The man Liza knew as WIC.

ONE OF THOSE “NO” WOMEN

Liza’s chest deflated. Shit. How does this look? She suddenly felt the eyes on her now and all the cameras the eyes must have had.

“Wow, what a lucky coincidence. I didn’t know you two knew each other like that.” WIC turned to look at Liza. She smiled and pushed her chair out. Stepping back and away from the table with too much fumbling to go unnoticed. It was half cowardice, half discretion. How must they have looked together at this tiny table—cozy, even familiar?

“You guys come here often?” WIC was all levity and charm, and Liza wouldn’t have known there was any bad blood between him and Dorsey at all. Except when she looked at Dorsey, his stormy expression had turned imperious and disdainful. The shy, soulful man who liked sweet drinks and precise napkin placement was gone. Liza took another small step away from the table. He must have registered the movement because now he settled his disdainful gaze on her.

Shit. The room chilled twenty degrees.

WIC nudged her arm. “You two are bold. Anyone with a camera could accuse you of anything.” He held out his phone. When neither of them spoke, WIC continued affably, “Nah, I’m kidding. I dig it. A little diplomacy.”

Liza saw a camera flash and shook her head. Not this again. “No!” It came out louder than she meant it to. She saw Dorsey and WIC wince a little.

“We don’t come here often. Never, actually. We don’t go anywhere. Together.”

Nervous laughter bubbled up in her as she continued creeping away from Dorsey, so she’d no longer be drugged by his warmth and his cologne. Yes, best to get doused with this humiliating bucket of ice water now. Why was Dorsey so silent? Did he want another meme situation?

Dorsey pulled out his phone and looked at what Liza could only make out as a blank screen. “Liza, I forgot, I have a meeting kind of early tomorrow morning. I can’t do the thing tonight.” He offered a cool look in Liza’s direction. Sixty to zero again in one minute.

What had made her say yes to Dorsey’s invitation to drinks? Curiosity? No, loneliness was more likely. WIC was closer to “the struggle” than Dorsey would ever be. He understood her. They were a natural fit.

“No problem. I have shit to do too.” The spell really was broken. Their night ended here.

“I can drop you off,” he offered.

“No!” Liza rushed. “We, like, accidentally met here so . . . no need to drop me . . . it’s not like this was planned, so, no.”