Mira’s question hung in the small room.

“He told me you get wet when you’re jealous. Is that true?”

I felt Dominic’s hand tighten on the back of my neck. The bass from the club still throbbed through the walls, low and steady.

“Yes,” I said.

Mira’s smile widened. She let the robe fall the rest of the way off her shoulders. It pooled at her feet. Under the dim lights her body looked almost identical to mine. Same small breasts. Same narrow waist. Same mole placement, even if the tattoo beside it was different. The only real difference was the way she stood, completely unselfconscious, like she had already...