God, he was good.
“Now we can talk,” he said, his arms wrapped around my waist.
“Why do you want to talk up here?” I asked.
“I like it up here.”
I rolled my eyes.
Whatever.
Time to get this over with so I could go out and annoy bad guys.
“How do you know my alarm code?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, just smiled.
“Crowe! I want to know.”
“You wanna know, I’ll show you. Later, not tonight.”
I blinked at him. “Seriously?” I asked, so wanting to learn that I completely forgot that tonight was our only night and tomorrow I was going to figure out a way to get Vance Crowe out of my life for good.
“You wanna know, I’ll show you,” he repeated.
“Wow. Thanks,” I was still forgetting.
“I like Nick,” he said conversationally.
I couldn’t help myself, I smiled. “I do too.”
“What do you call him?” he asked what I thought was a strange question.
“I call him Nick.” I replied.
“No, he isn’t your Dad, but he is, so what do you call him?”
I stared at him. “How do you know that?”
“He and I talked.”
I went still. “About what?”
“About him raisin’ you, about your family dyin’, your granddad dyin’, your aunt dyin’.”
I gasped. I did this partly because Nick had apparently shared a great deal of information about me but mainly because Nick never talked about Auntie Reba, not to anyone, but me.
“He told you about Auntie Reba?”
“Yeah.”
I didn’t know what to do with that because I felt it said something about Vance that Nick would trust him enough upon first meeting him to mention it. It freaked me way, the hell, out.
I shirked off my freak out and forged ahead. “What else did he tell you?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable with the knowledge that he knew way too much about me.
“He told me I was your first date in five years.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, horrified. I was going to kill Nick.