“Alex, wake up.”
Alex blinked and rubbed his eyes. “What? What’s up?”
“We’re home.”
He slid out of the car into the stuffy underground parking garage and fell into step behind Nathan. His eyes threatened to keep closing. In the elevator and along the hall Alex trudged heavily so he felt relieved when they finally stepped into their room.
“Camilla is a lovely and lucky girl.”
And just like that, sleepiness evaporated from Alex’s head, replaced by wariness and dread.
“Lucky?” he mumbled.
“She had such a good time with you.”
“Nathan, I—”
“Oh, no, I’m not going to get mad about it. But this, will you explain to me, Alex, why Ethan called you? Have you two been contacting each other behind my back?”
The shiver he felt might mean two things: grave fear or elation. The words kept playing in his head: Ethan called him. Ethancalled him. Alex felt like dancing.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face,” Nathan snapped, squeezing Alex’s jaw.