Page 33 of Ghosted

Her fingers shift around the coffee cup beneath the umbrella. “Who?”

“The guy with the purple hair.”

Alice’s brows lift. “What guy?”

I take a step closer, slow enough to let her decide whether she wants to move back.

She doesn’t.

“Tall. Lanky. Looked like he thinks eyeliner counts as a personality.” My gaze drags over her face, catching the little twitch at the corner of her mouth. “Looked at you like he was someone to you.”

Alice’s smile sharpens. “So you’re following me now?”

“No.”

“No?” She tilts her head, rain dripping from the edge of her umbrella. “You just happened to see me talking to Milo, then followed me under a covered walkway to ask about him?”

“Milo.” I say his name like it tastes bad.

Her mouth curves more. “Careful, Cutter. That almost sounded jealous.”

“It sounded annoyed.”

“It sounded like you don’t like him.”

“I don’t know him.”

“And yet, very strong feelings.”

My jaw ticks and she catches it.

I step under the covered walkway where the rain can’t reach us, close enough now that she has to tip her chin up to keep looking at me. “Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Someone to you.”

Alice watches me for a second, eyes bright under all that black makeup. “You asking because you care, or because you’re about to start acting insane?”

My mouth curves. “Depends on your answer.”

Her breath catches.

“Wow,” she says softly. “That was almost honest.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I look down at her, still thinking about Milo’s stupid grin and how close he stood. “Answer the question, Alice.”

Her smile turns meaner. “Say please.”

A laugh slips out of me, low and short. “No.”

“Jealous men usually do.”

“I told you, I’m not jealous. Jealous is what people feel when someone touches something that doesn’t belong to them.” My gaze drops to her mouth, then lifts again. “That’s not what this is.”