“What does Grandpa Gus think?”

Fuck me. I straight-up grimaced at her.

That was what it took to get her to shove her phone back into her purse, drop her mouth wide, and gasp, “You haven’t told him?”

I thought about lunch the day before and winced at how I’d talked myself out of telling him anything, even after he asked me if I was constipated from the faces I’d been making. “No…”

“Lenny!”

“I was going to, but he was in a good mood, and I didn’t want to ruin it,” I explained, knowing it sounded about as lame of an excuse as it really was.

Luna’s mouth was still open as she shook her head for about the tenth time in the last ten minutes. I couldn’t blame her. I couldn’t believe I’d been that much of a coward either. “You know, I never thought the day would come where I’d be the one calling you a chickenshit.”

I rolled my eyes before glancing back down at the claim I had been in the middle of filing so I could get reimbursed for a faulty leg press that I’d had to pay to get repaired. “You know, I never thought the day would come where I would be calling you a smart-ass, Luna, but look at that, miracles do come true,” I muttered in return… even though we both knew she was totally right.

I was being a chickenshit. A big one.

And she hadn’t been the first one to call me out on it. Peter had too the night before after I’d told him about my surprise visitor, and that was because at this point, other than Luna, he was the only other person who knew what I was avoiding.

That was: telling Grandpa Gus something he should have known months ago.

The truth… not that I had ever technically lied to any of them. I just hadn’t said anything, period. That was the only factor that worked in my favor: that none of them had known. Until now at least.

Grandpa was going to be even more pissed he was the last person to find out.

Luna had canceled on me the night before because her daughter hadn’t been feeling well still, and we’d planned for her to come by the gym in the morning while her father-in-law watched her Ava, which was how and why we were here, in the office at the gym with the door closed, with her making crazy faces at me because I had sex with one of the most attractive rugby players in the world.

Luna Ripley, one of my top five favorite people in the entire world, gaped again before bursting out laughing. “Rip said something similar a few days ago, but what can I say? I’ve mastered my craft by learning from the best,” she said, referring to her husband.

Her husband.

Jesus.

We were old enough to be married now, I remembered, deciding to focus on that for a second. Well, she was married. This was who we were now. Making and canceling plans because of kids. Real, human children.

Fuck, I still hadn’t gotten used to that.

Her comment got a groan out of my throat as I shoved aside this thing with Grandpa Gus and Jonah that loomed over my head. “Bish, I know you’re not talking about my pal Rip like that.”

“Bish, we both know who I’m talking about,” she claimed, bringing a smile onto my face as I signed my signature on the bold line of the form.

“Hey, don’t talk about Grandpa like that either.”

That got her laughing one more time. “I can’t believe it though,” she said after a moment. “How have you not told him? He always knows everything. He knew I was pregnant before I did, remember? Now that I think about, I’m surprised he didn’t hire a private investigator or anything.”

I’d forgotten that, but she was right. She’d been around the ageless vampire long enough to know how the man worked. And he hadn’t hired a PI because I’d asked him very, very nicely.

It hit me then that he had let me get away with not telling him about Jonah.

“After he got mad, initially, he just never asked. Then last night, he left as soon as I got home because it was pickleball night, and I was in my room by the time he got back. This morning he was arguing with the tech people for our internet service, and we barely said two words to each other,” I tried to explain, hearing my own bullshit and cringing at it.

Excuses, fucking excuses. I was a total chickenshit now. Seriously.

This person that was the closest thing I would ever have to a sister snorted across from me, thinking the same thing.

It was my turn to make a face at one of the best people in my life. “I don’t know what the hell you’re snorting about.”

She was smiling—she was always fucking smiling—as she glanced at her ancient watch, then stood up and shook her blue-haired head, hand gripping the strap of her purse. “You know what I’m snorting at, Len.” She smiled even wider. “I need to go. I’m meeting up with Rip for lunch, but text me later.” The little shit wiggled her eyebrows. “You know, after you tell Grandpa G about you-know-who. Hehe.”

I scowled as I got up and kissed her on the cheek, getting one back. “Tell him I said hi. Are we still on for lunch next week?”

“I will, and, yes, we’re on.” Luna slid me a smile and held her palm up between us, and I smacked it. “I know he’s an asshole, but he’s a really hot one, Len. Almost as hot as Rip. I’m so proud of you.”

I groaned and waited until she was halfway down the short hall before I called out, “I love you, Luna!”

“Love you too, Len!”

I smiled to myself as I shoved my chair back and looked down at the claim form I’d just signed before grabbing it and heading out of the office. It didn’t take more than a second to find Peter hanging over the top edge of the cage’s walls, looking into it as two men, who I couldn’t recognize from this far, circled each other.

On the way toward the gym next door, I waved at the small group of men and women on the mats, covered in sweat and breathing hard following whatever exercises they had just gone through.

It didn’t take me long at all to leave the building and head toward the one next door. Inside, the ceilings opened up just as high, with row after row of equipment and machines lined up perfectly to maximize the space. I lifted a hand at all the people I recognized as I headed straight toward where the fax machine was at the front desk. It only took about three minutes to send the fax and get a confirmation back—because the company didn’t believe in scanners—and I made a quick stop at the front desk slash juice bar to check on the two employees there and make sure they didn’t need anything. They didn’t. Bianca had bags under her eyes, but that wasn’t saying much since I did too most days, and the other girl looked fine.

At least I had work stuff going for me without issues, I thought, as an image of Jonah’s face filled my brain for all of a split second—specifically an image of Jonah’s face after I’d told him that I didn’t care about his excuses anymore. Just as quickly as that picture entered my head, fucking tiny little freckles on his nose and all, I shoved it away.

Seventeen months.

I had nothing to feel bad about. Nothing.

Back out to the training building, I managed five steps inside my office before coming to a stop.

Someone was sitting in the chair in front of my desk.

Someone with short hair so dark it could have been dark brown or black. Tall, based on how high up he sat in the seat, with wide, muscular shoulders, and a thick neck. Shit.