Chapter 15

“In the kitchen,” I called back and watched as Vee dried his hands and brushed off the T-shirt he’d borrowed from me before letting his hands fall to his sides. His muscles tensed and his face turned blank. Polite. Amicable and professional. But the emotions that had been so easy to read were locked away.

“Sorry for barging in. I tried to call, but it went straight to voicem—” Harrison cut himself off when he caught sight of us. He stiffened. His gaze flicked between us as he took in the details in the kitchen, and eventually stopped on Vee’s chest. I knew he’d know Vee was wearing my clothes. Harrisonhad given me the That’s a sharp # Not a hashtag-shirt after all.

Carefully, Harrison put down the casserole dish he was carrying without a word and continued watching us. There was no way he could misinterpret Vee’s bare feet and messy hair, or my red, puffy lips.