“Ronin!” she shrieked.

“Ssh, you wouldn’t want the people downstairs to hear you screaming my name. They might get the wrong idea.”

She twined her arms around his neck. “Close enough to the truth of last night.”

“And what an amazing night it was.” He nipped her neck and then lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “I don’t care if your friends know we’re sleeping together, but I do care if you give them a play-by-play.”

“I won’t.”

“I have to go.” He kissed her. “My sweet, bold Amery . . . I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”

By the time she left the bathroom five minutes later, there wasn’t any sign of him.

• • •

CHAZ avoided Amery all day. Molly seemed chattier than usual. How much of that was due to their conversation after class last night?

God. Had that only been last night?

How much things could change in a few short hours.

She had a productive day, including a few new client calls.

At five o’clock, Chaz approached her desk. “It’s officially the weekend and we’re kicking it off with happy hour.”

“First drink is on me. I’ll grab my purse.”

After she’d locked the front door, she dropped the metal screens in front of the windows.

“They really don’t look too bad,” Chaz offered. He looped his arm through hers. “Let’s head to Tracks.”

She stopped. “No.”

“No?”

After the advice she’d given Molly, she stood her ground. “While I love hanging out with you, I’m tired of you and Emmylou only taking me to g*y bars.”

Chaz raised that imperious eyebrow. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Common sense maybe. In three years I haven’t once complained. I’m complaining now. I want to go someplace else. Someplace mainstream.”

“Oh, so you’ve finally got a man in your bed and you selfishly want to be the only one? I’d like a man in my bed too, Amery.”

“How can you throw that in my face?”

“Because you should’ve said something before now if you hated hanging out with me so much,” he sniped.

“I don’t hate it! For the last year you’ve harped on the fact that I don’t date.” She poked him in the chest. “Did it ever occur to you that the places you and Emmylou drag me to aren’t the right demographics for me?”

That shut down whatever smart retort he’d been about to make.

“Admit there are lots of awesome bars around here that we never go to and that’s just lazy on our part. I want to go someplace new. Be adventurous, Chaz.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you go to these bars with your straight friends?”

“I want to go with you. You’re my BFF,” she cooed.

“Girl. You are a totally different animal after you’ve gotten laid. Fine. We’ll both widen our horizons. I know just the place. I’ve heard their tapas are to die for.” They headed up the street, arm in arm. “I guess I should seize the chance to spend time with you because that’ll change soon enough.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Now that you’re doing the nasty with—omigod, could Ronin Black have a more banging body?—your free time will be at a premium. And the way he looked at you today?” Chaz sighed. “He wanted to karate chop me in the face for even being in the same room with you when you were naked.”

“Karate chop. Right. He’s a jujitsu master, not karate.”

He waved his hand. “Whatever. The point is, he didn’t even notice me drooling over his arms, his chest, and his abs. Most straight guys freak out about g*ys eyeing the goodies. He didn’t want me to get an eyeful of you.”

Amery rested her head on Chaz’s shoulder. “I love you. You make me feel better. Ronin is . . . enigmatic. I don’t know how long he’ll find me interesting.”

“Sugar cube, you’ve got enough baggage to keep him interested for a long time.”

“Oh, shut up. And for that, you’re buying the first round.”

• • •

PROBABLY a good thing she had a decent buzz when she got home and her cell rang. She needed a buffer for this call. “Hello, Mom.”

“Amery. How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Oh, you know. Busy, busy. We start summer session of vacation Bible school next week. Lots of prepreparation. I swear these women who volunteer are just there as a way for God to test my patience.”

She made a noncommittal noise.

“Have you heard from Aiden?”

“No. I think he’s lacking basic services in Afghanistan, not just phone service.”

“You don’t need to get snippy with me. I was just curious. He doesn’t keep in contact any better than you do.”

Don’t take the bait.

“It’s hard to answer members of the congregation about how Aiden is doing when we, his parents, don’t even know. To top it off, he doesn’t acknowledge the care packages the congregation sends him, which also makes your father and me look like we raised him to act ungrateful.”

Yes, it was always about appearances with her parents. Not the scary fact that Aiden was in hostile territory getting his ass shot off every damn day. And knowing her mother, she’d played that “my only son is fighting for our country” card just to get sympathy from members of her father’s flock anyway. Amery shipped Aiden a package once a month and he always thanked her. She suspected he didn’t want the guilt and “Jesus Saves” pamphlets in with baby wipes and lip balm from the church members, and no response would be the fastest way to put an end to it. Not so, apparently.