Page 68 of Pawn

“The only reason I’m going to this campus tour is for you. Compromise, babe.” Nate kisses Carlos on his cheek and Carlos rolls his eyes. “What’s wrong, Scandal?”

Ignoring the nickname he’s sticking with, I ask, “You sure you wanna know?”

“You helped Allie in the biggest way possible,” Nate reminds me, moving closer. “Consider my upcoming advice karma. Now shoot.”

After a quick second to consider telling him the whole truth, I decide on something else, his word echoing. “Compromise,” I repeat. Nate arching a brow.

“Uh huuh.” He glances at Carlos. “It’s what you do when you’re in love.”

“Even if it’s something you don’t want to do?”

Nate looks behind him, Carlos looking over what looks like a university campus map. “Especially if it’s something you don’t want to do. Now c’mon, gimme the tea.”

Fuck. With my head falling back against the locker I thank him. “That’s perfect.”

Nodding, he brushes invisible dirt off his shoulders. “Well then, you’re welcome.” He smiles. “Thanks again for helping Allie out when I was … preoccupied. I’d say you owe me one too but consider us even.”

“Thanks, Nate,” I say but I’m already way too distracted. With a pat on my shoulder, he takes off down the hall, leaving my chin to the ceiling.

Compromise.

Fine.

Pulling my phone to my face, I send Damien a text.

Jo: Going to Allie’s after class.

His response is almost instant like he’s waiting by his phone.

Damien: y?

I’m hoping this thing with Craig doesn’t take longer than an hour.

Jo: Exam prep. Be home by 6. Order dinner.

Damien: U r my dinner

That last text makes me smile, reminding me that we can go back to whatever our normal is without Damien’s failed business looming over us. So if I have to be the one to fix it. I will.

A text to Willow tells me she’s with Bella and Jordan again and after calling an Uber, I’m in Ancaster in twenty minutes. That makes me ten minutes early for … whatever this is with Craig.

Turns out, The Steam Room is a small cafe at the edge of town, near the border. Not a strip club like I’d thought. It’s as fancy as Cindy’s. Lavish and over-the-top. White sofas and gold tables mix with smooth jazz and the strong smell of beans. My eyes fall on Craig sitting at a white leather booth near the back, a bronze lamp hanging above him.

He’s early too. When I walk over, still in my uniform and boots, some eyes turn my way.

“Jo,” Craig greets, leaning back in his seat. He’s not wearing a sweater-vest but he is wearing another turtleneck. His beige slacks stick out from under the table when he gestures to the open seat in front of him. “I ordered you a coffee. Black, right? Or do you want some molly with that?”

“What do you want, Craig?” I ask, pushing the white mug forward as I take a seat. “Why are we here? What do you know and why do you wanna help us?”

“You’re quick to fire, Jo,” he chuckles. “Thought we were friends before you threw me under the bus. Too bad it didn’t work.” Narrowing my eyes, he sits up, meeting my gaze. “One night.”

“What?” He’s making as much sense as Isaac’s outfits.

“One night. You and me.”

Okay, he’s definitely on something. “You can’t be serious. Did the molly go to your head?”

He smiles and while it’s good enough to be in a commercial, I’m not interested in whoring myself out. Not with Craig Carson. “Dead serious, sweetheart.”

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