Gabrielle had always been good at reading Matthew. Even when he was centuries old, impossibly composed, and nearly impossible to catch off guard—she knew him better than anyone.
Which was why, as they lounged on the couch the next evening, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.
Matthew was distracted. His mind seemed elsewhere, and while he still held her close, there was a flicker of something behind his eyes.
Secrets.
Gabrielle leaned against him, absentmindedly tracing circles on his hand. “You’ve been acting weird today.”
Matthew, who had been absently flipping through a book, tensed for just a second before schooling his expression. “Weird?” he repeated, playing innocent.
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes. Weird. You keep looking at your phone, you zone out, and when
