Page 118 of All We Need

I squeeze her shoulder. “No, thanks for telling me.”Myeyes drift to the back of the restaurant asIweigh up my options.

“She’s still here.Maybeseeing you will cheer her up.”Joshoots me an encouraging smile until she reads my mood. “Isit serious between you?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.”Suddenlyfeeling drained,Iprop my elbows on the bar and drop my head into my hands. “She’sleaving.”

“When?”Joasks.

I shrug. “That’sit,Idon’t know when, and we agreed this was casual.Iknow you don’t like her, but there’s a lot more to her than meets the eye.”

“Hey.”Abony elbow jabs me in the ribs. “Inever saidIdidn’t like her.Idon’tknowher.Apparently, she acceptedQuinn’sinvitation to ourGalentine’sdinner, so hopefully that’ll change.Itmeans she’s here for another few weeks too.”

Johanna’s optimism confuses me further.

“Booth?” she whispers.Ipeek through my fingers and find her staring at me in delight. “It’snot a bad thing that you like her.Sowhat if she’s leaving?NewYorkisn’t far.I’veseen how you are with her—you couldn’t be more obvious.ButI’vealso seen how she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching.”

“Yeah, and how’s that?”Iask sarcastically.

She smiles at me gently. “Likeshe can finally stop searching.Whenher eyes land on you, she’s found it.”

Invisible strings stand me to attention.I’mhyperaware of my heart thumping in my chest, threatening to break free.

“None of us have ever seen a woman that puts up with your shit either.Theway you two argue is bizarre, but who amIto judge?”

I chuckle. “It’sour foreplay.”

She shudders before grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving me away. “Don’tmakeme judge you.Gofind her, you charmer.”

My legs need little encouragement.Thosestrings propel me toward the office.Outside,Ipause, hand hovering above the door handle beforeIslowly twist it.Alow hum buzzes beneath my skin, increasing in intensity whenIspotAlessandrabehind the desk.

Fuck, ifIhaven’t missed her.

She’s deep in concentration, eyes darting left and right as she reads the screen of her laptop.Hergaze cuts to me at the creak of the old door hinges.Focusedto frustrated.

“What are you doing?”Herabrupt tone is my first warning sign.

I dismiss it.

“Well, hello to you, too, beautiful.”Hopingto lighten the mood,Iwink at her.Nothing.

Jo wasn’t wrong, she’s pissed, andIbet it has to do with this morning’s meeting.Thisversion ofAlyisn’t new to me, nor does it scare me off.

I round the desk and crouch in front of her.Withthe tip of my finger,Imove to tuck a glossy curl behind her ear, but whenIbrush her cheek, she wheels out of reach.

“I asked what you’re doing,Booth?” she asks impatiently.

Something isverywrong.Alycan be abrasive and snappy, but this is different.Oncloser inspection, dark shadows line under her eyes.Thedesk is littered with papers and documents.Acoffee stain marks her otherwise pristine blouse.

She’s unsettled.

“I’m checking in on you,”Ireply calmly.Sittingon my haunches,Irest my hand on the arm of the chair—mostly to stop her from putting more distance between us. “Talkto me.”

Behind the frustrated glow in her eyes, there’s a fragile softness.

“I’m busy.Andyou should be too.”Shegoes to spin away but fails. “Letgo.”

“Talk to me,”Irepeat and tighten my grip on the chair.

“What are you, a parrot?Stoptrying to get under my skin.Idon’t have time.”Panicaccompanies the anger in her voice, her face a complexity of emotions.

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