I bite my tongue from asking how she’s certain Isla was married when we were together. My canines dig into my defense, knowing that she’ll most likely ask me to clarify what Isla was when we started sleeping together. And Cassidy is right. From the very first time I met Isla, she’s had a ring on her finger. It’s fucked up, I’m well aware.

Wanting to change the subject, I clear my throat and say, “Did you figure out what was wrong with your car?”

She nods.

“If you need a ride anywhere, call me Cab Callahan.”

She’s not agreeing with the convo change being a good idea. “I can call you Homewrecker Callahan or The Man Who Had Another Woman in His Bedroom After Dicking Me Down Callahan. Those might be better for the situation we’re currently in.”

Right as I hold out my hand to explain myself, her phone dings.

Ignore it. Ignore it.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she digs into her pocket, and horror flashes on her face as she reads whatever is on her screen.

“Cassidy …” I drawl out her name as she pales.

“I have to go,” she stammers, attempting to shove the phone in her pocket. Her hand trembles, making it difficult, and the phone drops to the floor. “Shit!”

I reach out, prepared to repo her phone to see what suddenly worked her up, but she beats me to it. This time, she grips it in her hand, not bothering to put it away.

“Cassidy,” I whisper, “what happened?”

Her eyes are crestfallen as she spares me a quick glance. “Nothing, really, I gotta go.”

Without another word and before I can stop her, Cassidy sprints out of my bedroom.

Chapter Eighteen

Cassidy

My heart is racing so hard that I’m waiting to have a heart attack.

Me moving in with Grace was supposed to prevent this.

What the hell?

Thankful Grace isn’t home, I charge into my bedroom, my upper lip snarling, and hold back the urge to punch the man sitting on my bed. “What the fuck do you want, Quinton?”

He chose the wrong day to mess with me. I already walked in on the man I’m falling for with another woman in his bedroom. I’m not in the mood to deal with a crazy-ass ex in mine. I’m mouthy to begin with, and today has pushed all my limits. Chances are, I’ll be taking my anger with Lincoln out on Quinton, and it won’t be pretty.

Quinton slides his hand over his smooth chin. “You moved in with a judge’s daughter, huh?”

I blink at him. “What?”

“Your new roommate’s father is a judge.” A cruel smirk curls at his lips.

That’s why he’s here?

To question me about Grace’s father?

Dude needs to find a real job because he has too much time on his hands.