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“Will do.”

“Wait!” I glanced at the sliding glass door. “Have the police called you about getting prints?”

Sonny’s eyes got wide. “No. Why?”

“You were looking around in here the other day. Did you, by chance, touch the sliding glass door?”

“I … maybe?”

“There’s a print on the door. Someone broke in the other night—”

“What?”

“Well, I think. Anyway, here. Look.” I angled the light from my phone so the handprint became obvious. “If it’s yours, then it’s not someone else’s, someone who got inside.”

Sonny didn’t hesitate. “Oh. Sure. Let’s compare.”

Carefully, and without touching the glass, Sonny hovered his hand above the print. “It might be mine. Want me to give the police my fingerprints? I did have to give them to The Institute, so they’re in a system somewhere.”

He was correct when he said the print could be his. It could also be someone else’s. I wanted it to be Sonny’s because I would understand how it got there. “Let’s just let Calloway know.”

“You got it.” He pulled out his own phone. “Want me to call him now?”

I nodded. “I’ll grab that shower.” I turned.

“Hang on,” Sonny said.

I turned back around as he took somewhat tentative steps toward me. When he was right there in front of me, I could smell his soap and shampoo, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he smelled coming from me.

Slowly, as if he was making sure it was all right, he put the hand that didn’t hold the phone on the side of my face and then leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed him back. The thought of asking him to join me in the shower passed through my mind, but I wanted my own shower for now.

Sonny smiled as he pulled back. “Have a good shower.”

I sent him a side-eye, wondering about the spell he was casting. What in the world was happening here? “Okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

He meant for food, I knew he did, but I answered quickly. The soup hadn’t been enough. “Yes.”

“Dinner after shower?”

“I have the perfect spot.”

“I can’t wait.”

After I was cleaned up and Sonny confirmed that he talked to Calloway, I offered to drive us in the Jeep, but Sonny held up his keys instead and claimed he’d didn’t need the open-air life this night. The Jeep was a sad sight anyway. It was hard to tell the paint color under the dirt. I should have been embarrassed, but Sonny said I should be proud instead. I used the Jeep the way it was supposed to be used.

Two I-19 freeway stops up from Black Vulture was place that served the best fried chicken and the most mouthwatering banana cream pie.

It was also located inside a gas station convenience store. We dined at one of the three booths, enjoying the smells from the food as they mixed with the scents of motor oil and gasoline when the doors swung open. A sickly sounding bell dinged every time, but I tried to put both out of my mind and focus on my date and the food.

I usually spent my days working. My nights, going over things I’d worked on during the day or doing more work. I liked my life.

My mind and body weren’t quite sure how to handle the good distractions and relaxation, not to mention the company of a man who didn’t irritate the crap out of me.

It was what it was.

We’d already discussed that we were both only children. The night before, I’d delved into my childhood and my father’s disappearance, which Sonny had found interesting enough to ask a lot of questions. I didn’t want to talk about me again.