Page 39 of Meet Cute the Virgin

“Shh,” I hush her. “I think they’re going to kiss.”

“Evaluating,” they say together, and something passes between them. I glare over at Teddy, having my own silentconversation, asking her if she’s catching this. They can’t have silent conversations. That’s our thing, and how are they doing it so quickly?

It has to be a psycho thing. Their brains think the same or some shit.

“Have you seenThe Truman Show?” Killian asks.

The Truman Show. Where is this conversation going? Is this how people feel when Teddy and I are together in our own little world? It’s kinda rude. For them to do it, not us. Obviously.

Tristan smiles wide; I swear his eyes are lighting up. “I know why you’re asking.”

“You think we could build one of those domes? Just put them in there.”

“Controlled environment,” Tristan agrees. “Complete surveillance. No exit points.”

“Hey,” Teddy and I say together. Holy shit, this is getting out of control.

“Optimal coverage,” Killian continues, ignoring us. “Your tech, my presence. No gaps.”

“Unlimited resources. Custom architecture.” These two are out of their damn minds and need to be separated immediately.

“Gentlemen,” I interrupt, “you’re planning our imprisonment in front of us.”

“Protection,” they correct in unison.

“Same thing,” Teddy mutters.

Killian finally looks at his wife, and there’s something almost fond in his expression. “It’s not the same thing.”

“It really isn’t,” Tristan adds.

I smack his arm. “Don’t encourage him.”

“Too late.” Killian stands, extending his hand across the table. “Partnership. Joint custody.”

“That’s not—” Teddy starts.

“Operational oversight,” Tristan amends, shaking Killian’s hand. “Shared responsibility.”

“Still not better.” I sink down into my chair. I’m not sure we can stop them. Lightsabers aren’t going to work.

They keep going, talking over us, planning camera placements and patrol schedules; two dangerous men who’ve found common ground in the worst possible way.

And somehow, despite everything, I find myself fighting a smile.

“There’s more I should probably tell you,” Tristan says quietly.

I look at him. “More than a dome?”

He nods. How can there be more? What else? It hits me. Of course. I want to face-palm myself. The dating app.

“Mr. Mysterious,” I say slowly. A small gasp that turns into a laugh comes from Teddy across the table. Yeah, we should have seen that coming.

His hand stills. “You knew?”

“I didn’t. Not until just now.” I shake my head. “You made the app. You were the one I was talking to.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t appear sorry about this.