Page 188 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

Whoever had sent those files wasn't helping me. He was talking to me. That thought had bothered me more than the videos themselves because it meant I wasn't chasing him anymore.

He'd decided we were already having a conversation.

"So..."

Derek leaned back against the edge of the desk, balancing a paper cup that had long since stopped pretending to be coffee. He took one look at my face and snorted.

"Jesus, Reed. You look like death warmed over."

"I've been called worse."

"Yeah?"

He took another sip, grimaced, and looked into the cup as though it had personally offended him.

"This coffee just called you ugly."

Even Mason's mouth twitched. Barely. It was probably the closest thing to a smile I'd seen from him all week.

Derek wasn't trying to be funny because the joke was good. He was trying because he'd spent enough years with both of us to recognise when the room needed air before it collapsed in on itself.

He rested the cup on the table and folded his arms.

"So..." he said again, drawing the word out with deliberate exaggeration.

"How's Seraphina? You know your girl."

I looked up from the map.

"My what?"

"Your girl."

"My girl?"

"The one who kissed you on the porch."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit."

Derek pointed the plastic stirrer at me like it was evidence in court.

"So..." Derek said, leaning back against the desk with a grin that looked entirely out of place in the middle of the briefing room.

"How's Seraphina?"

I looked up from the map.

"What about her?"

He shrugged.

"You two talk after the Max thing? Or are you still pretending that porch kiss never happened?"

I shot him a look.

"We've both been busy."