I send her a look that should have her shaking in her boots, but instead, her beaming face breaks into a delighted laugh.

“Don’t even think about it, Cam,” I warn.

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” she says gleefully. “I know you have been, too, so don’t bother denying it.” She wiggles her eyebrows and adds, “And I definitely know Landon has been. The poor guy doesn’t know anyone else exists when you’re in the same room. It’d be pathetic if it wasn’t so adorable. Talk about relationship goals.” She lets out a wistful sigh.

If my kitten wasn’t snoozing contentedly on her lap, I’d throw my pillow at her face.

“There is no relationship,” I tell her firmly, “so we’re definitely not ‘relationship goals.’”

The way things are between me and Ward, we’re more like “relationship dysfunction” than anything else. In fact, right now he’d be more than happy to witness my demise. That’s hardly optimal boyfriend–girlfriend behavior, and certainly not something others should aspire to.

“Maybe not yet,” Cami says, “but the chemistry between you two is off the charts. Even with him currently being mind-controlled.”

“This conversation is over,” I tell her, moving toward the wardrobe.

“For now, maybe,” she threatens merrily. “You get a reprieve until he’s no longer sitting in a cell, brainwashed by an evil genius. After that, though …” She trails off, wiggling her eyebrows again.

This time it’s me who’s sighing, but mine is by no means wistful.

Grabbing a set of clean clothes, I change quickly out of my pajamas, then say, “Right. So, back to the actual important things”—I shoot her a glare—“I’m going to head to the command center and see if they have any news. After that, we can figure out our next move.”

Cami slides Dinger off her lap and rises to her feet, giving the disgruntled kitten an apologetic pat on his head. He meows grumpily, then jumps off the bed and heads toward the door. When I open it for him, he runs through, disappearing around the corner.

I shake my head and turn back to my friend as she buttons up her coat.

“I’ll meet you there,” Cami says. “I want to check in on Landon again first.”

“Again?” I ask.

She doesn’t meet my eyes, telling me that the lighthearted moment we just shared isn’t about to return. “I went to see him first thing this morning. It wasn’t … a pleasant visit.”

My pulse picks up speed. “Did he … say something to you?”

“He said a lot of things to me,” Cami says, her features darkening in memory. “Manning still has him tightly in his grip, that’s for sure.”

I swallow and say, “Give it time.”