Page 140 of Keep Me Close

If I ever find out who gave Jax Wilder my number, I’ll bludgeon them to death.

With pleasure.

Still, the cat flashes in my head again, and the corner of my mouth betrays me.

Faith narrows her eyes. “Wait a minute… Is that… a smile?”

I straighten on the chair. “Absolutely not.”

Her eyes dance with mischief. “Yeah, it was. I saw it.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

Sawyer leans across the table, as if he can smell weakness. “Is that the hockey guy again?”

My answer comes a little too quickly. “No. Of course not.”

Three skeptical faces stare back at me.

I sigh. “Eat your soup.”

Sawyer points his spoon at me. “That’s a yes.”

“It’s not a yes.”

“It’s not a no either,” Faith singsongs.

I glare at the two of them. “Why are you people so obsessed with this?”

Sawyer shrugs. “’Cuz you hate everyone, and you only make that face when it’s him.”

I blink. “I do not make a face.”

He just stares at me.

Faith nods. “You kind of do.”

“What face?” I ask begrudgingly.

Sawyer sets his spoon down. “Like you’re annoyed but also not.”

“That’s not a face.”

“Sure, it is,” Sawyer says.

I inhale a slow breath through my nose. This is what my life has become. I work eight-hour shifts, run a household on caffeine and spite, and get psychoanalyzed by children who still leave wet towels on the floor and shoes in the middle of the kitchen.

Seriously love that for me.

I reach for my phone again, mostly so I can delete the text in front of them out of pure principle, but before I can unlock it, it buzzes for a third time.

Instead of a meme or a text, there’s a voice note.

With a squeal, Faith claps her hands. “Play it for the class, please.”

“No way.”

“Come on, Sloane,” she whines. “Just do it. We all want to hear what he has to say.”