Silence.

“You wanna run that by me again?” he finally said.

“Apparently he didn’t have time to tell you . . . Reese and Loni got married this morning. All by themselves—I guess they didn’t like how people kept making plans for them, so they just up and tied the knot without telling anyone.”

Painter burst out laughing.

“I’ll bet Kit and Em are pissed as hell,” he said. “They had all kinds of crazy-assed shit in mind.”

“I don’t know about Em, but Kit seems pretty upset. Oh, and just so you know, the girls figured out what you and I were doing and started giving me shit, so I yelled at them. Now they’re hiding downstairs.”

He started laughing again.

“That’s almost worth the heart attack you gave me.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” I murmured. “They scared me.”

“They’re scary girls,” he said. “I don’t suppose you want to pick up where we left off?”

I considered it, but the thought of Jess and Kit down below . . . it wasn’t working for me.

“No more phone sex until I get a lock for my bedroom door. I don’t think I can take another scare like that.”

“I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”

He sounded so determined I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Would it make me sound like a crazy girlfriend if I asked what time you’ll be back tonight?” I wanted to take the words back as soon as they left my mouth. I’d meant it as a joke, but guys like Painter didn’t have girlfriends. He’d told me himself he didn’t date. Now he probably thought that I thought he was my boyfriend and . . . “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Mel?”

“Yeah?” I asked, closing my eyes against whatever he might be about to say.

“I wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend like you.”

My pulse sped as I careened from freaked out to elated. I wanted to jump up, maybe do a fist pump or two. Instead I somehow managed to keep my voice casual.

“I wouldn’t mind having a boyfriend like you, either.”

“If I ask Pic to give you a key, will you sleep at my place tonight?” he asked. “I’ll be getting in late. Really late, probably not until early next morning, but I’d like knowing you’re in my bed, waiting for me.”

“Sure,” I said, feeling all warm and happy. “I’d like that, too.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Jess seems to be recovering from the shock,” London said, her voice dry. We were out at Bam Bam and Dancer’s place—they were another of the club couples—because the Hayes girls hadn’t been able to book The Line on such short notice. My private theory was that it wouldn’t matter how much notice they’d had. One thing I’d learned from watching the Reapers the past year was that if Reese wasn’t on board, it didn’t happen.

Except this party was definitely happening.

Kit, Jessica, and Em had made the best of things, somehow throwing the entire thing together during the time it took Em to drive over from Portland. They’d tried to suck me into it, but no way I wanted to get involved. Reese and Loni had to love them—they were blood relations. Seeing as I was something of an add-on, I didn’t feel like risking it. (Not only that, as a person with a soul, I hated putting Loni on the spot like that.)

I’d spent the afternoon working on my paper instead, right up until the moment that Jessica tricked me into driving to the grocery store with her. She’d dragged me out to the party instead, which even I had to admit was turning out to be fun. Or at least, it’d been fun until the strippers showed up.

Now Jess was sprawled across a stripper’s lap with one arm around his neck, laughing like a crazy woman. A second guy was doing the same with one of the old ladies—Marie—while Kit took pictures with a glee bordering on the obscene. Then a third danced up to Jess, waggling a gold lamé banana hammock in her face.

(Okay, so maybe we weren’t bordering on the obscenity line so much as dancing over its grave.)

“London’s turn!” yelled Darcy, one of the old ladies about London’s age. Her man was part of the Silver Bastards, the same club that Puck was part of. I’d only met him a couple times, but based on that it was safe to say that the Silver Bastards were every bit as scary as the Reapers. Dancer and Kit grabbed London by the arms, dragging her over as Jess jumped off her guy to make room for Loni.

“Smile, London!” Kit shouted, taking a picture as they dumped her into his lap. Loni bounced right back up again, grabbing a throw pillow and launching it at Kit. Jessica leapt to her defense, pitching another pillow toward London, and then it was on.

Battle royale.

(It’s worth mentioning at this point that we’d had a lot of alcohol. Jell-O shots. Fireball shots. Some kind of pomegranate martini punch shit that Em mixed up and was serving in big bowl. It tasted like candy, but I’d stopped drinking after my second glass, when my cheeks started to go numb. Unfortunately that’d still been enough to make me seriously buzzed.)

A pillow smacked me in the head, knocking me down to the floor. I landed on top of Banana Hammock Man, putting a hand on his waxed, muscular chest to push myself up, confused as hell.

“Hey,” he said, giving me a sexy smile. “You wanna go hide together under the table?”

“Smile!” Jessica shouted out of nowhere. What the? I looked up to find her snapping pictures of me on top of him.

“Oh, you little bitch!” I shouted, scrambling off. He gave a startled shout of pain. Shit. I’d just used his banana hammock like a gold lamé springboard, poor man. “I’m so sorry.”

He moaned pitifully, rolling over to curl up on his side. Meanwhile, Jessica was skipping across the floor, waving her phone triumphantly.

“Jessica, you delete those fucking pictures right now!” I screamed.

She tore across the room and through a set of French doors that opened onto a deck. Then she was over the side, sprinting across the meadow that backed against the house.

“I’m going to kill you!” I shouted, ignoring the laughter from those watching us. She turned her head to taunt me, flipping the bird as she ran.

“Come and get—shit!” the words cut off as she suddenly disappeared. Not disappeared, as in tripping and falling. I mean disappeared. One minute she was there and the next she was gone.

“Jess!” I shouted again, anger turning to fear. She hadn’t been that far ahead of me. I kept my eyes open, stopping just short of where she’d been, approaching slowly. It seemed unlikely that she’d been teleported away by aliens, but you never know . . .

“Jessica?” I called, hesitant.

“Down here.”

Looking around, all I saw was grassy meadow. “I don’t see anything.”

“There’s a hole in the ground,” she said. “You’re right over me—I can see you. Look down.”

I looked down, and sure enough, there was a hole in the ground, maybe a foot wide . . . foot and a half, tops. I dropped to my hands and knees, peering down. It was dark, really dark. I could hardly see her, but she seemed to be down there a ways. Shit.

“What the hell is that? It looks like a cave.”

“Sure looks like it.”

“Do you see a way out?” I asked, looking back at the house anxiously. Our watchers had lost interest in us. I dug in my pocket for my phone, hoping I had service.

“Step back,” Jessica told me. Frowning, I followed her instructions, mouth dropping as her head and shoulders popped out above the ground.

“How did you do that?”

“I just stood up, silly,” she replied. “I would’ve sooner but I needed to text this.”

She gave me a wicked grin as she held up her cell phone, showing off the picture of me on top of Mr. Banana Hammock.

“If you tell me you sent that to Painter, I’m going to kick your head off like a dandelion,” I hissed, glaring at my best friend. Former best friend.