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It’s nevera good sign when you get a text that says “We need to talk.”

When I got one from my mom’s lawyer, it was to tell me she was going to jail.And when I got one from my ex, Alyssa, it was to tell me she was going on something called a walkabout in Australia to find herself.

Last I saw on her socials she had hooked up with a buff marine biologist named Archie.She found something, all right.

Good for her.I’m happier now, with Fallon.Besides, she also felt that I was too obsessed with trying to find Evans, which…now that I think of it, I haven’t looked as hard for him lately either.After Fallon spotted Marina’s not-so-dead brother at the old canning factory, keeping the sweet, sexy, older man I’m in love with safe has been pretty much the only thought in my head.

That, and keeping an eye on Jojo when she decides to play with Bruiser.She seems okay with him, but I take a trust but verify approach when it comes to a bird who used to pretend she had a cough and a limp when I wouldn’t give her extra treats.She may look cute with her little eyes and her fluffy white feathers, but she’s a master manipulator.

Honestly, though, Bruiser seems to adore her, and the feeling seems to be mutual.Which is good, because I’m getting the feeling lately that Bruiser might not be going anywhere.

I sit up from where I’ve been watching them play when I hear a key in the lock.I’m already bracing.

“Hey,” I say cautiously as Fallon walks in.

Any hope I had that this was a harmless sort of “we need to talk,” as in “we need to talk about the fact that you leave your socks on the floor too often,” or “we need to talk about who’s going to be in charge of dishes,” flies out of my head when I see him.

Every muscle is pulled tight.He’s taken off the jacket I know he wore that morning.His tie is undone and slung haphazardly around his neck.His head is bowed.

Either he’s really pissed about something, or he’s super focused on the spot on the carpet where Bruiser tried to dig a hole through the floor yesterday.

“Baby?”

He holds up a finger.The universal wait-a-minute gesture.I want to press him to get whatever bomb he’s about to drop out there so we can talk it out and get past it, but his chest is heaving like he ran all the way here.Rushing him isn’t going to be the right idea.

While I wait, Bruiser runs up to him, excitedly sniffing.The puppy gets on his hind legs to get Fallon’s attention, and Fallon steps in to pick him up.I’ve never been so jealous of a dog in my life.

“Did Wes really pay you to have sex with me?”

Oh.Shit.There’s no fucking right answer here.

“He didn’t pay me.He paid Brennan.But, baby?—”

“You know, I’ve spent these last couple of months with you in a ridiculous, shmoopy cocoon of happiness.I could not wrap my head around why Wes was so adamant that you weren’t right for me, but I get it now.”

What the f—“What is it you think you get, baby?”I take a step forward, but his head snaps up, his eyes dark and simmering.I get the feeling if I take another one, he’ll turn around and walk right out the door.

“How much?”

“That doesn’t matter.What matters is?—”

“How.Fucking.Much?”

Shit, this is about to go all the way left.It already has.

I lift my chin, refusing to show any embarrassment or shame.One thing I’ve learned over the years is that if someone’s sure they’re right about something, there’s no convincing them otherwise.

“Generally, my rate is five hundred an hour.Brennan takes half.”

“Your pimp.”

“You knew I had a?—”

“How much did Wes pay?”

I hate the way he’s cutting me off.He’s already made up his mind, and I want desperately to make him understand.

“Baby.Don’t do this.I lov?—”