Page 62 of Black Ledger

I was far, far more vigilant.

But still, every muscle in my body was at attention, waiting… for something. I wasn’t sure how to date or tell my body to calm down.

Spencer was tall, handsome, smart, and an engineer. He had a dashing smile and was gregarious—a real rarity in my field of study. Sure, not all engineers were quiet and awkward. Many were perfectly adequate communicators, but someone charming who had ease about him? Impossible to find.

So, in summary, Spencer was the kind of man you brought home to your mother.

The restaurant had a rustic Irish pub feel, with most of the walls covered in dark wood paneling. It was quaint. I liked it.

“So, you have two siblings?” Spencer asked, picking up a cheese-covered chip and plopping it into his mouth.

“Yes, a twin brother and a sister who is a year younger.”

He froze for a beat. “Oh, wow. That’s very close in age.”

“Yeah, honestly, sometimes it’s like we’re triplets, but Nika has a much louder personality than Ilya or me,” I said, taking a chip. “We’re fairly quiet.”

“I’ve noticed.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t really speak unless I have something interesting to say.”

“Then I will consider it an honor that you speak to me quite frequently.” He smiled.

I returned the smile and added a playful giggle. “It is an honor.”

I wiggled my nose, and as I reached for another chip, our fingertips touched. I let myself linger for a moment.

I didn’t flinch. It was a win. And I didn’t hate the contact. I was settling in, becoming more comfortable. Was he the person I wanted to touch? No.

But that person wasn’t an option, and I was moving on from him.

Moving on…

Moving the fuck on.

Right. I smiled wider and focused back on Spencer.

“So you grew up in New York?” he asked, raising his beer to his lips.

“Yep, New York, born and raised.” I tapped my newly painted blood-red nails against the table. I’d matched them to the blood-red dress I was wearing.

It was a casual dress, but still fancy enough to look like I had tried.

“What do your parents do?” He leaned in a little bit closer, and I mirrored him.

“My dad works in intelligence, and my mother doesn’t.”

“Intelligence like the CIA?”

“I’m pretty sure if he did, I couldn’t tell you,” I teased. “He works for a private company.”

“Now, that is what someone who worked for the CIA would say…” Spencer raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Possibly.” I winked.

It was probably better for him to think my dad was some secret spy than the highest-ranking intelligence member of the Bratva.

“So your dad is a spy, and you’re a cybersecurity major. Does that mean you’re going to be following in his footsteps?”