Page 260 of Romeo

There it was.

Not the question itself.

The invitation underneath it.

Fiona had gotten better at those. She’d learned how to leave just enough space between the words for me to decide how far to follow her.

“You remember I own a motorcycle?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“And Virginia hasn’t moved?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Good. Just checking.”

She laughed again. “Are you threatening to come here because I asked for a shirt?”

“I’ve crossed state lines for worse reasons.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.”

I could hear her shifting under the blankets, and the small sound did entirely too much to my imagination.

“So, if you brought me the shirt,” she asked, “what then?”

I smiled slowly. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you behave.”

Fiona snorted. “You don’t want me to behave.”

Well.

Fuck me.

I tipped my head back against the wall and laughed softly. “There she is.”

“What?”

“The woman who keeps pretending I’m the bad influence.”

“You are.”

“And yet somehow I’m not the one making dangerous suggestions.”

“I haven’t suggested anything.”

“No?” I pushed away from the window and wandered back toward the bed. “You’re in bed, asking me to bring you my clothes, then telling me you know I don’t want you behaving.”

“That is a very biased interpretation of events.”

“It’s my favorite kind.”