Nico looked away, staring at the window, at the buildings outside. He remembered how she felt underneath him…tight, warm, trembling. He remembered the way she looked when she woke up, confused and soft. He remembered the photo she held and the question in her eyes.
“I don’t know anything about her. And I don’t care.” Nico’s voice was low, rough. “It was a transaction. It’s finished. She got what she needed. I got what I wanted. End of story.”
“Is it?” Ethan raised both eyebrows. “Because you sound like a man trying very hard to convince himself of something. Usually, when you’re done with something, you throw it away and never think about it again. You don’t look like you’re throwing anything away. You look like you’re waiting.”
“I am working.” Nico picked up the pen again, gripping it
