Page 23 of Prey

Marcus shifts in his chair. “You know, we could call some of the regulars. Get you sorted out.”

“The regulars.” My voice comes out flat.

“Yeah. Lisa’s probably free. Or that guy from the club—what’s his name? Tyler?” Marcus opens one eye. “Hell, we could get both. Make a night of it.”

“I’m good.”

“You’re clearly not good,” Raphael counters. “When’s the last time you?—”

“March fifteenth,” Ezra supplies again.

“Right. Three months. That’s…” Raphael does the math. “Yeah, no wonder you’re wound tight.”

“I’ll call Lisa.” Marcus pulls out his phone. “She likes you. Said you’reintensely focusedor some shit.”

“Don’t,” I snap.

“Or Tyler. He definitely likes you. Very enthusiastically, if I recall.”

“I said don’t.”

But even as I say it, I know the truth. Marcus could bring Lisa here, or Tyler, or both, and I could go through the motions, but nothing would happen. Not with Jenna two floors below, her presence pulling at me like the center of gravity.

My body wouldn’t respond to anyone else. Not now. Not with her scent clinging to my clothes from carrying her.

“Just trying to help.” Marcus pockets his phone. “But if you want to stay wound up like a spring…”

“I’m handling it.”

“By stopping by every few hours to stare at her through the camera feed?” Damon asks.

I freeze. “How do you?—”

“The security office shares a wall with the electrical room,” Damon says. “I was checking the breaker panel. Heard you in there at four AM.”

“Stalker,” I counter. “What were you doing up at four?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Unlike some people, I don’t have a shiny new toy to obsess over.”

“Speaking of obsessions,” I turn to Darius, “how’s that bartender from last week? The one you spent three hours texting about herfascinating insights into craft cocktails?”

“That’s different.”

“Right. Because you actually fucked her.” I lean against the counter. “Multiple times. Loudly.”

“You’re just jealous of my healthy sexual expression.”

“The whole building was jealous. We could hear yourhealthy expressionthrough the walls.”

“I have excellent lung capacity,” Darius says proudly.

“We know,” everyone responds in unison.

“Remember when Lucien brought home twins?” Theon grins. “And we thought he was dying?”

“I was not that loud,” Lucien protests, finally looking up from his carburetor.

“You literally screamed, ‘I’m alive’ when you came,” Marcus says. “They almost called 911.”