MAYA

I had totally forgotten, for one reckless second, that discussing my underwear with Silas Blackwood was probably not a normal or healthy professional conversation.

His expression shifted instantly. A shadow crossed his face, quick but noticeable, like I had accidentally reminded him of something he would rather forget.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

His tone ended the conversation so completely that I didn’t even try to push.

Interesting. Very suspicious.

But I let it go. We moved through the store slowly, our hands still joined, making small talk as if we were normal people and not whatever this strange arrangement had turned us into.

We laughed quietly at some...