“One and a half, the last sip an hour ago, and I’m firie.” I walked along a yellow line dividing parking spots. “Want me to do it backwards?”

“Sure.”

I did, making him laugh ... and hand over the keys.

As I pulled out of the parking space, he said, “Watch out. She’s got a lot of—”

I hit the gas, smacking him back in his seat. At the street, I braked, sending him snapping forward.

“Sweet,” I said.

“Just be careful. You may not be impaired, but your reflexes could be a little—”

I tore off, accelerating, then hitting the corner fast and hard. Three blocks later I idled at a stop sign.

“Reflexes okay?” I said.

“Carry on.”

I turned left.

“Actually, the highway is—” he began.

“Too many cars. Don’t worry. I have an excellent sense of direction.” I took the first left onto a back road. “Columbus is this way. Roughly.”

I hit the gas.

I PARKED BESIDE my motorcycle.

“Good thing we took the back roads,” he said. “One cop and you’d have been out of a license.”

“Not too worried about that,” I said as I got out.

He eyed me over the roof. “You do have your license, don’t you?”

“Sure. I’ve got one.”

“One?” He looked at my bike. “Please don’t tell me—”

“Then don’t ask. I’m honest, remember? Not necessarily law-abiding, but unrelentingly honest.” I walked around and held out the keys. “And I do believe you’re ready for these.”

As I handed them over, he caught my hand.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said.

“So did I. You aren’t nearly as boring as you look.”

His laugh rang through the empty lot. “God, you are honest.” His hand slid around my waist, pulling me to him. I backpedaled away.

“Kissing? On a first date?” I said. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

He grinned and tried again, but I danced out of his reach.

“Second date,” I said. “And only if you let me drive your car again.”

“Without a license?”

“Ah, such a moral dilemma.” I unlocked my motel room door. “Call me tomorrow night if you’ve made up your mind.”

“I don’t think it’ll take that long.”

“Mmm, it might. Better wait until then. See if you’re still interested.”

I slid inside and closed the door before he could say more.

I stood there, fingers on the chain. I’d had a good time, too. Not a rock-my-world date, but a really nice one.

As I got older, I dated less, and I’d thought I was just slowing down, getting ready for that big moment when Adam would notice me, but after I realized that wasn’t happening, I just kept slowing down.

In some ways, it was like mourning after a bad breakup. I needed to get back in the game, and Michael would have been a nice place to start. Too bad he’d never call for that second date.

“Now that’s a dress,” said a voice behind me. “He let you get away that easily? What’s wrong with the guy?”

I spun to see Jesse stretched out in the armchair, file on his lap.

“Good thing I didn’t invite him in,” I said.

“Why would you do that? It was business, wasn’t it?”

“I can multitask.”

He laughed.

“You seem to have a talent for getting into places you aren’t supposed to be,” I said, kicking off my heels.

“You did read my record, right?”

“It’s juvie. Sealed.”

He arched his brows. “What kind of detective are you? Break and enter, as you probably guessed. Two years in juvenile detention, where the only thing I learned was how not to get caught next time.”

“Shocking.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “And you’ll give me pointers, right?”

“Anything you want to know.” He set the file on the side table. “I apologize for breaking in. Kind of. But I was sitting in my truck and the manager kept looking at me like he was five seconds from calling the cops.”

“That’s your pickup? The blue one? Or, presumably, used to be blue, at some point?”

“Yes, which explains the manager’s interest.”

“So, to avoid being suspected of breaking in, you broke in.”

“Exactly. If it bothers you, though, I won’t do it again.”

He said it like he was offering not to smoke in front of me.

“Call me next time,” I said. “So I know you’re inside and don’t blast you with an energy bolt.”

“Hadn’t thought of that. Consider it noted.”

He reached for an open Coke bottle on the table. When he couldn’t quite get it, he flexed his right hand slightly and the bottle slid to him.

“Show-off,” I said.

“Hey, I have to use my powers for something. They aren’t good for much else. Not like I’m a supercharged Volo.”

“And good thing, too.”

He frowned, then snapped his fingers. “Right. Lucas mentioned that you guys knew one. Quite the character, I hear.”

“Crazy psycho bitch, more like. Left me trapped in a research lab, tried to kill Paige and Lucas, and probably had something to do with my mom’s death. Let’s just say I fondly recall the day Paige sent her home to hell.”

“Don’t blame you.” He took a swig of Coke. “So, as you can tell, I’m swinging by earlier than expected. I figured I’d read the files and make copies of some pages.” He held up a camera. “I also figured I’d take you for a beer and discuss the case if it’s not too late.”

“It’s only ten o’clock.”

“I’m giving you an out, in case you’re still pissed off at me for dumping the case on you.”

“I was never—”

“Annoyed, then. So you’ll join me for a beer?”

“Or two.”

“Good.”

I grabbed my shoes. My cell phone chirped on the night table.

“You forgot this,” Jesse said, grabbing it for me. “It’s been going off all night.”