Page 87 of The Keeper

“What’s your favorite exhibit? Besides the penguins, of course.”

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Maybe the sloths. They’re cute, chill, and get a full eight to ten hours of beauty sleep. They’re living the dream, honestly. Fun fact: they can swim through water three times faster than they can walk on land.”

I chuckled. “Why am I not surprised you know that? You’re like an encyclopedia of animal facts.”

“Hey, I love all animals, not just penguins. Except bugs.” She shuddered. “They freak me out.”

“But you don’t have any pets.”

“No. I’ve always wanted one, but they’re too expensive, and I work too much to take care of one properly.” Carina slanted a sideways glance at me, a smile lingering around the corners of her mouth. “You should do that more often. Laugh,” she clarified.

“I only laugh when the situation truly warrants it. Otherwise, it cheapens the act.”

She stopped and stared at me. “Are you serious?”

I raised my eyebrows, and she huffed out an amused breath.

“It says a lot that I wasn’t sure whether you were joking,” she groused as we resumed walking.

“What can I say? I like to keep people on their toes.” Another rumble of mirth escaped when she scrunched her nose and bumped her hip against mine.

I hadn’t laughed this much in years. No wonder Evie thought I was sick; I was unrecognizable to myself, and I didn’t even care.

Carina and I walked in comfortable silence for a while, our steps naturally falling into sync. Instead of her usual citrusy shampoo, she smelled like coconut sunscreen. Different, but just as intoxicating. Every time a breeze swept past, the scent teased my senses, and my muscles tightened in response.

I wore a baseball cap low on my forehead to prevent potential fans from recognizing me. It seemed to be working, but the knowledge that we were in a public space kept me from obsessing over last night. Every once in a while, however, a memory would sneak up and rattle me. The taste of her lips. The softness of her skin. The sensation of her coming apart in my arms.

Slow, sensual awareness seeped into my bones. My lips parted, and I inhaled a calming breath as we arrived at the giraffe exhibit. Thankfully, Evie and Briana’s squeals broke some of the tension, and a smile tugged at my mouth as the zookeeper instructed them on how to feed the giraffes.

Carina and I hung back and watched, our arms lightly touching. My entire body thrummed in response to her proximity.

“Should we talk about it?” she asked, surprising me. “Last night, I mean. And what happens next.”

Okay, I guess we were doing this here. Evie was distracted, and no one else was in earshot, so it was as good a time and place as any.

“What do you want to happen next?” I asked cautiously.

I had my thoughts, but I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. There was too much at stake for us to risk any miscommunication.

“My contract officially ends on Friday, but I’ll still be living in the house,” Carina said, chewing on her bottom lip. “For this to work, we have to figure out what last night was. Was it a one-time thing? If not, are we seeing other people⁠—”

“No.” I shut down that possibility with a swift, flat rejection. “We are not seeing other people.”

Her mouth twitched. “You don’t want to think about it first?”

“I’ve thought about it.” I’ve been thinking about it since you moved in, whether I wanted to or not. “The answer is no.”

“So is this an exclusive relationship? Or a summer fling?”

I suppressed an instinctive bristle at the word fling. It seemed too inconsequential for the way she consumed my thoughts, but an exclusive, long-term relationship would raise questions and consequences that we weren’t ready to face yet. I had to leave for South Africa in a few days; making that big a decision on the eve of the World Cup seemed irresponsible, especially since we weren’t the only people in the equation.

My attention slid to where Evie was holding a branch up to one of the giraffes. She squealed in delight when the giraffe lowered its head to chew on the leaves.

“Exclusive, yes,” I said. “But we don’t have to define it beyond that for now. Evie will be in Michigan for the summer, and I’ll be at the World Cup for at least the next month. Let’s see where the summer takes us.”

“Like a trial run,” Carina surmised.

“Something like that.” I tried to gauge her reaction, but she was unreadable. “We shouldn’t tell Evie until we’re sure where we stand. I don’t want her to…” Get her hopes up. It seemed cruel to phrase it that way, but Carina’s face softened with understanding.