Page 46 of Shifted Desire

Shit, now I’ve been a dick to her again.

Max gives me a weird look, like he’s trying to figure out why what Mom said set off my barb.

“Sorry, Mom. I’m joking. You’re totally right. We’re both hard workers and we got along well. At least professionally. I don’t think we’ll be going out for dinner any time soon.”

Fuck, why did I say that? Why would I even put the thought of Nathan and me having dinner in their heads?

Max frowns slightly, watching me far too keenly.

“That’s okay, buttercup,” Dad says with a chuckle. “As long as you’re both happy with how working together is going, that’s what matters. We know you’re not going to start hanging out with him in your free time.”

“Exactly,” I say, hoping no one notices how fast my heart is beating and worrying it’s too late and Max knows what I’m hiding.

Time to redirect things, stat.

“Since we’re talking about work, are there any juicy cases you’ve been working on?”

If my brother notices I’m pushing the conversation away from Nathan, he doesn’t point it out. “Well, there is this thing with a bear shifter and a human woman who might be stalking him…”

Full of chicken and relaxed from a glass of wine, I’m lounging in the living room and chatting with my family when my phone buzzes with a notification.

Unthinking, I pull it out to check what it is.

Nathan’s name pops up on the screen clear as day. I squeak and shove the phone back into my pocket before I can read what the notification preview says.

Mom and Dad are too busy retelling the story of when Max and I snuck out of the house to get ice cream as kids to notice, but my brother is sitting right next to me.

His brow furrows, and I shake my head as subtly as I can, warning him off from asking. Eyes narrowing, it feels like he’s looking into my soul, but he goes back to focusing on our parents.

Shit, that was too close.

Why did I use Nathan’s real name in my contacts? You’d think I’d never snuck around and hidden things from my parents before.

I’m on edge until Max heads out, wondering what he’s thinking and dying to know what Nathan sent. When I offer to help clean up and my parents wave me off, I thank them again for dinner with a quick hug and hurry up to my room, locking the door behind me and flopping down onto the bed with a groan.

My phone buzzes again, and I jolt upright, unlocking it.

Max: What the hell was that?

Fuck. He knows. Or he suspects something. He’s a private investigator, so it won’t be hard for him to put the pieces together if I don’t give him a reasonable lie as an explanation.

I rack my brain to try to think of what he’d believe and settle on something that’s close to reality because he’s far too smart to believe something like I was worried about work.

Still, I have to pretend like I don’t want to explain and have him drag it out of me, or he won’t believe me.

Sam: What the hell was what?

Max: Come on, you were acting super weird when we talked about Nathan, and then you got a text from him and almost jumped out of your skin.

Sam: It’s nothing.

Max: Bullshit. Was he an asshole to you or something?

A few seconds pass as I wait to reply.

Max: Were you an asshole to him?

Sam: Ugh, no! Why do you think the worst of me immediately?