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I tilt my head.

“And Paul? This is me in a good mood. Are we clear?”

He nods frantically, sweat already shining on his forehead. “Y-yes. Clear. I understand.”

Part of me knows I just crossed a line.

A big one.

The other part doesn’t give a single fuck.

I stare at him for another long second, letting him feel the weight of it. Then I step back, tuck the knife away, and straighten my shirt like nothing happened.

“See you at graduation,” I say. “And don’t mention this to her. Or anyone. Don’t be stupid.”

I head for the door. Then the anger catches, again.

I turn back. “And what the fuck is wrong with you? She’s a nice woman.”

The second I say it, my stomach drops.

A nice woman.

Fuck.

Paul says something behind me, but I’m already through the door.

I need out of this room.

By the time I reach the Mustang, my pulse is hammering.

I rip out of the parking lot like speed might clear my head.

It doesn’t.

“She’s a nice woman,” I mutter, gripping the wheel.

That’s exactly what Drew said about Carmen’s daughter. Back when he was beating the shit out of that guy who threatened her.

Because the idiot went and fell for her.

This isn’t that.

It’s not the same thing. Drew got sloppy. Drew forgot what he was there to do.

I don’t do that—I’m just working the job.

And yeah, Carmen gave me an opening in the shower the other day. But she was upset and I don’t fuck upset women. Especially not when she’s offering it up like she owes me something.

Wrong timing. That’s all.

Besides, our first time isn’t going to be some quickie in the shower while she’s sad and looking at me like I’ve earned a turn.

I go still.

Our first time.

My fingers tighten around the wheel until pain flares through my bad hand.