“Two weeks,” he repeated, as if tasting the words.
Evalyne nodded once. “Correct.”
He laughed once, sharp. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Two weeks. Sure. Why not. I’ve done roleplay marriages with strangers in less time than it takes to order a pizza.”
Evalyne’s eyes narrowed.
Jack lifted his hands. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I forgot. No nightclub.”
“Correct,” Evalyne said.
He pressed his lips together, then leaned forward again, elbows on his knees.
“So,” he said. “Am I… staying home?”
“Yes,” Evalyne said. “For now.”
His gaze flicked away. Something shuttered in his face so fast it almost looked like a shadow passing over him.
Evalyne watched it. Filed it. Waited three seconds.
Then she said, “What’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” Jack said immediately, too fast.
Evalyne’s patience was a musc
