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Patrizio's expression actually softens, and I...I don't trust it at all.

"I understand."

He does?

"I, too, think such things are best discussed in private."

I nearly nod...until I realize what he's almost made me agree to, andargh,this is exactly why I don't trust this man one bit!

"There's nothing to discuss in private!"

But Patrizio has already turned to Elissa, saying, "May I introduce myself? Or is it no longer necessary at this point?"

"The latter," my traitorous best friend is all too happy to confirm. "But I can introduce myself at least. I'm Elissa, Jayne's roommate and best friend—"

"Ex," I can't help but growl in emphasis. "It'sexbest friend now!"

But it's as if I'm talking to air, with Patrizio already smiling charmingly at Elissa as he asks, "I hope you don't mind if I borrow your friend for a bit?"

Or maybe it'smewho's invisible like air, with Elissa actually rising to her feet as she says magnanimously, "Not at all. I completely agree that such things need to be discussed in private."

Seriously?

I clear my throat loudly, thinking it's high time to stop these two from completely losing their minds. "Um, hello? I'm still here—"

"Not for long, darling."

What does he mean—woah!

Patrizio pulls me to my feet without warning, and I'm still sputtering in shock as he makes excuses on my behalf while Elissa, who's an even bigger traitor than I give her credit for, just waves us off with a smile.

Unbelievable!

Who needs enemies when you have friends like her?

Rule #3: Never badmouth a biker in his own territory.

I AM ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, 100% not thinking about Patrizio Steele.

Not while I brush my teeth in the morning. Not during my commute to campus. Definitely not during office hours when a student knocks on my door and for a split second I think it might be him again. And certainly not right now, sitting across from my best friend at Caffeinated Pages with a mug of perfectly brewed coffee that I’m not even tasting because I’m too busy not thinking about—

“Earth to Jayne. Hello? Anyone in there?”

I blink, realizing Elissa has been talking to me for who knows how long while I’ve been staring at the foam pattern in my cappuccino like it contains the secrets of the universe.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said,” Elissa repeats with exaggerated patience, “you’ve been weirdly distracted all week. And by ‘weirdly distracted,’ I mean you’ve checked your phone approximately eighty-seven times in the last twenty minutes and you keep glancing at the door like you’re expecting either Prince Charming or a serial killer to walk through it.”

“I do not!”

But even as I protest, I realize I’m doing exactly that: scanning the entrance of the café for the one person I’m desperately hoping not to see.

“You literally just did it again.” Elissa takes a calm sip of her black coffee, watching me over the rim with her typical analytical precision. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to deduce it from your increasingly erratic behavior?”

“There’s nothing to tell.” I try to sound casual, but the way Elissa’s eyebrow rises a precise quarter inch tells me I’m not succeeding. “I’m just stressed about...work stuff.”

“Workstuff is why you almost jumped out of your skin when your phone buzzed earlier?”