They drove in silence until Keiran’s phone beeped, and he checked it at the next light, his jaw clenching.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine. Just studio stuff.”

His tone said otherwise, but Cherisse didn’t push. There were surely limits to their brief ceasefire. Neither of them was inclined to share things they didn’t want to. They weren’t friends. He’d done as she’d asked, and now she had to reciprocate in the studio.

When they got to her apartment, he helped with the hamper, holding it until she got her keys out and opened the door.

“We can share these up now if you want,” she offered.

“Maybe later. Just send me a list of everything in there, and we can figure it out. I’m serious about the Prime dinner, though. Yours to use as you please. The spa vouchers, too. The rest, we’ll sort. I trust you to list everything.” He winked, his mood after seeing that message having shifted back to his usual self, and a loud laugh escaped her mouth, which had Keiran snickering too as he placed the hamper on the floor of her living room.

“That laugh, I swear. I love it.”

She stared after him as he waved goodbye, closing the door behind him. People didn’t usually say they loved her laugh. In fact, she’d grown up extremely self-conscious about it because her mother had drilled into her that it was too loud and scandalous, unbecoming of a young lady. That ladies must be seen, not heard. Over the years, Cherisse had started giving no fucks where that was concerned. She’d given up on trying to do some subdued version of it. Her genuine laugh was loud, boisterous even. But it was part of who she was.

“Was that you and Keiran laughing just now?” Remi asked as she came down the stairs. “Had to see if the apocalypse had begun because what the hell?”

Cherisse shrugged. “We had fun.”

Remi gawked at her, face twisted in disbelief, then she noticed the hamper. “Oooh, what’d we win?”

“We?”

“Like you’re not gonna share with me.” She crouched down to inspect the goodies.

“Some of that belongs to Keiran.”

“Uh-huh.” Remi kept searching through, releasing a gasp as she held up the Prime gift certificate. “Oh, wow.” She glanced up at Cherisse. “You wouldn’t go with Keiran, would you? When your bestie’s right here?”

“He did help me out today.” She had zero intention of going to Prime with Keiran, but she loved teasing Remi too much. “Plus, we got spa passes, which I figure we’ll use for our birthdays.”

Remi got to her feet, eyes narrowed. “You’re already doing that studio thing for him. He can’t have Prime.”

Remi was the only one she’d told about the challenge she’d thrown out to Keiran and his wanting to use her voice on a track. Her response had been surprise—then she’d begged to tag along to the session. Cherisse shut that down immediately. She didn’t need extra witnesses to her screwing it up because she would. She had no doubt about that. Solos in front of other people? Not her jam. And even worse, it being Keiran. The one person who would gladly use her failure against her.