Page 18 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

I meet his gaze, holding it for a long beat. He looks back, his eyes worried and tired. A long day rests behind him, but an even longer night stretches on ahead.

“Yes. We will be.” I add quietly, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to screw things up.”

“You didn’t,” Jonah says. “Don’t think that. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have…” He stops, his eyes scanning the room for any nearby ears, his voice lowering even further. “I shouldn’t have kissed you back then.”

“You only did it because I asked you to,” I say, the words coming out more gently than I expect. “We were just kids.”

“You were just a kid,” he says, his tone a mix of regret. “I knew better.”

“You’re only, like… two years older than me, Jo. It was just a kiss. A kiss is just a kiss, right?”

He pauses, his own words hanging in the air between us. The pain in his eyes is sharp, a fresh wound. He’s realizing now that the kiss on the cheek he gave me back in Chicago during a game of Spin the Bottle may not have been just a stupid game to me.

I sigh, the weight of it pressing on my chest. “It’s just a crush. I’ll get over it.”

“I should have known.” His voice is soft, regret thick in his words. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. It’s like you said last night. It was never going to be me.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Jonah closes his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening. “I’m so sorry.”

I meet his eyes once more, finding strength. “I’ll be fine,” I say, my voice clear. “All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Jonah. Marla is your muse. It doesn’t get any happier than that.”

Jonah lifts his head. “I want you to be happy,” he says.

“Maybe someday I will be,” I say. “Just… not tonight.”

As Jonah parts his lips to speak, a flash of pink flickers in my peripheral vision.

“Heeey,”Harmony says, her smile blessed with pure mischief. “Sorry to interrupt, and I know you said you weren’t interested in meeting someone today, but…” Her eyes glimmer at me. “I’ve got a horde of handsome, rich boys over here justdyingto dance with you.”

I step back from Jonah, and his hands slip away. “Actually, Harmony, I think I’m a little danced out today.”

“Oh, nonsense!” Before I can object, Harmony loops her arm through mine, locking me in. “It’s a Botsford wedding! These things don’t happen every weekend!” She flashes Jonah a saccharine smile. “You don’t mind if I steal her away, do you, Jonah?”

He shakes his head. “No. Not at all.” His smile is weak but present. “Go have fun, Kat.”

“She surely will!”

My window of escape slams shut as Harmony tugs me across the dance floor. Before I can even squeak out another excuse, we arrive at a table at the far end of the room, and Harmony presents me like a prize to the group of young men lounging there.

“Kat,” she announces, practically beaming. “Have you met Ian?”

Ian Botsford rises with a carefully measured look of surprise, as if this encounter wasn’t entirely orchestrated. He fastens the second button of his black suit, obscuring the dark blue shirt inside, and smiles, all the little details of his tall, dark, and handsome genes shining through his features.

“Yes,” I say. “Well, briefly. You’re Jonah’s cousin. You’ve come to our Chicago shows before, right?”

“I have,” he confirms, reaching out to shake my hand. His fingers are smooth, his grip deliberate—like he’s planning to latch on and never let go. “I’m a big fan, actually. Love your sound.”

“Thank you,” I say, forcing a polite smile. “That’s always nice to hear.”

“And this…” Harmony nudges me toward the next in line, a red-haired man in a sleek pinstriped suit. “Is Barry! He works at the Chicago hotel with Ian in… accounting, was it?”

I shake Barry’s hand. Then the next man’s. And the next. Harmony practically shoves me down the line of a half-dozen eligible suitors I never asked for.

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