Page 32 of Butterfly

“Thanks. I completely forgot about the car.” Avoiding his gaze, I take the key.

“How’s Dart? Hey, Alex.” He nods at Alex, who’s stepping into the lobby.

“Mate.” As they clap each other’s shoulders, Alex glances my way. “Dart is fine. Thanks for coming.”

“Did you understand what happened?” Martin asks, hands on his hips.

Alex rakes a hand through his hair. His lips are glistening from the kiss. Our kiss. Lord, I kissed Alex Knightley. I hide my face by rubbing my forehead, lest Martin see that I’m fighting a daft smile.

“Not really,” Alex says. “Is the damage extensive?”

Martin clicks his tongue. “The whole glass came down. I think I’ll have to replace the entire panel and frame.”

Alex takes out his phone. “I’ll pay for the—”

“Nonsense.” Martin slaps his shoulder hard. “Shut the hell up. Dart is fine. That’s all that matters. Sod the glass.”

I grin as I exchange a glance with Alex. “It seems no one wants your money today.”

“There’s something more precious than money though.” He arches his brow as his gaze drops to my lips.

My breath catches, but before I start panting all over again, I break eye contact.

Martin coughs in his fist. “Do you need help to take Dart to your car?”

“Thanks.” Alex jabs a thumb behind him. “Dart is over there. I can lift him, but I don’t want to hurt him.”

“No problem.” Martin nods.

“Then I can take you home, Martin,” I say.

“No.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I’ll take a cab. You go home and relax.”

Alex walks towards the room but pauses when Martin brushes past him and enters the room. “Will I see you later?” he whispers.

I shuffle my feet. From a strictly professional point of view, I want to see Dart again and make sure he doesn’t develop an infection or a bad reaction to the drugs. But I don’t want my professional needs to mingle with my personal ones. “I might need to check on Dart again later this evening.”

“Good. I’ll text you my address.” He grins and pats his phone in his pocket. “Now I have your number.”

Eleven

Alex

WHEN MARTIN AND I step out of the clinic, Dart’s tail wags feebly, lacking energy. Already tired, he remains still on the blanket as we transfer him from the stretcher to the back seat of my car. Watching him so shattered breaks my heart. He’s being brave but doesn’t understand what happened to him. I owe the fact that he’s alive and well to the woman packing Dart’s drugs in the clinic. Through the glass door, I can see her silhouette and the flash of gold in her hair. My body clenches with the need to kiss her. The kiss we exchanged earlier was too quick, too intense, and too damn good to end like that.

“You can trust her, you know,” Martin says, tucking the blanket around Dart.

“Who?” I turn to him.

He chuckles, resting an elbow on the car roof. “Sienna. She isn’t just a great vet, but she’s discreet as well. She isn’t going to blab about what happened to anyone. You won’t find any tweets, videos, or posts on how she spent a night with Alex Knightley because his dog got stabbed.”

“We didn’t—”

He holds up a hand. “You know what I mean. She could’ve blabbered about Blazer and how she helped Martin Westermeyer’s horse, but she didn’t. I kept an eye on her to see if she was going to tattle. Nothing. She’s a pro.”

“I know.” To an extent. About social media shit? Hell, she gets all my trust. But what if she doesn’t want to come to my house tonight? What if she disappears again? She did it twice. She can do it a third time.

“You need to rest.” Martin picks up his phone. “Did Vance talk to you about Rebecca’s latest film? Allegedly her latest film. She didn’t confirm or deny anything.”

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