By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, Trina was convinced she’d aged ten years in two days. Doug never gave her a tangible, overt reason to complain, but every ten minutes, he pointed out something else she’d done wrong.

She knew better. Some of the things he bitched about, she did a different way than he did, but her way was still right. Others, he was outright wrong about. The reprimands wore on her, though. Worse—she didn’t know how Cody would react if Doug said she was incompetent. It would be her word against his.

She’d never anticipated a weekend more in her life. As soon as five hit, she’d be in her car. She was even excited about the slog of the evening commute if it meant this week was behind her. Two days to blow up Hoarde and save the digital world.

Shawn joined them. He hadn’t needed stitches after all, and the doctor sent him back with praise for whoever bandaged his hand. The one bright spot in her week. “Cody and Spencer want us in the lobby,” he said.

She was on her feet before he finished speaking.

“Hey. Clean up.” Doug’s tone was sharp.

“They said not to worry about it.” Shawn turned and headed for the stairs.

Trina resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Doug. He might accuse her of coming onto him. She followed Shawn to the lobby, where everyone else was assembling.

Her boss stood near the entrance, next to Spencer. He hadn’t been onsite today, and as she looked him over, she was grateful. He was dressed in the full-on business professional get-up today. Suit, tie, and leather shoes. The way his jacket hung off his shoulders, it was clear it was tailored for his broad chest. That was distracting.

She shouldn’t look, but after the misery she put up with, worrying if she fucked things up on New Year’s was the least of her concerns. She could sear the image of him into her thoughts, to keep her company while she destroyed bad guys.

“This has been a fantastic start to this installation,” Cody said. “Great job, everyone. You deserve to pat yourselves on the back.”

A murmur of congrats rolled through the small group, but Trina kept herself out of it. She was happy enough to hear the praise.

Spencer stepped forward. “And as a thank you, I want to take you all out tonight.”

Definitely not. Could she beg off now, or did she need to wait until they got there, to make her excuses and leave early?

“Mason always said you were smarter when you were drunk. Loose lips and all that.” Doug’s voice was low, meant only for her ears.

The words didn’t make sense, when she thought about them, but she understood the implication, given Doug’s obsession with her and blow jobs. Fuck him. He might have made her week miserable, but she was willing to go along now to spite him. Prove to him he couldn’t destroy her enjoying free pizza. And she didn’t mind that Spencer would offer a distracting view to go with her meal.

Besides, if he was going to tell everyone she was the uptight bitch who tattled, she would to prove she was one of the guys. Fun. Laid back. Non-judgmental. She looked at him with a smirk. “Only one way to find out if he was right.”

Doug's eyes grew wide, and his jaw moved up and down.

Good. Let the asshole wonder what she meant by that. If he could be cryptic, so could she.

Because—God help her—she needed something to get her through the next few weeks of working with him. Ignoring him and withdrawing only seemed to egg him on, so she was going to swing in the opposite direction. None of what he did would get to her.

If that didn’t work, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

*

SPENCER COULDN’T HELP but watch Trina as the night wore on. Partly because she was as stunning as ever, but there was more to it.

The last couple of days at work, she’d looked miserable. She wore the same expression through dinner, except when someone looked at her or spoke to her. Then she lit up, like a switch had been flipped. She’d laugh, joke, and her expression would fall flat again as soon as whoever it was looked away.

She wasn’t drinking, either. She’d done a good imitation, keeping a bottle of beer in her hand during dinner and after they finished the pizza. It was the same bottle she’d started the evening with, though.

As things broke up for the night and people started filtering out, her shoulders slumped, and the deep lines in her forehead faded. She set her beer bottle down, said her goodnights, and headed out.

Spencer lingered a little longer, to chat with the manager and thank him for allowing the last-minute party to crash their banquet room.

“Oh. I didn’t realize anyone was still here.” Trina’s voice startled him.

He looked up, to find her standing in the doorway. “I’m on my way out,” he said.

“Okay. I forgot my purse. I’ll be leaving soon too.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, gaze flitting around the room.

“Your purse is on your shoulder.”

Her hand flew to the strap. “Is it?” Her laugh sounded forced. “I’m such a space case.”

He nodded to the manager with a quick thanks again and crossed the room to talk to Trina. “Are you all right?” He felt like he asked her that a lot.

“Fine. Just... I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe it for a second. “Are you sure?”

“You don’t have to be polite or pretend to be concerned. It’s okay.” She ducked her head the moment the words were out.

“Why would I be pretending?”

“After what I did to you?”

He’d missed part of the conversation somewhere. He must have. “You did something to me?”

“Never mind. I think everyone else is gone now. I should get going.” She didn’t turn away.

Realization dawned on him. She was stalling for time, until her colleagues left. He could give her that excuse and nudge her to make more sense at the same time. “What do you think you did?”

“Sunday night, on the beach...”

“You told me how you felt. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

She met his gaze. “I know there’s not.”

Wow. This was confusing him. “Then what are you worried about?”

“I don’t know if you realize there was nothing wrong with it.”

That was fucked up. “I do. I promise you. Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Yes, please.” Some of the stress vanished from her voice.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” He tried to bring the conversation back to casual and non-threatening topics as they headed outside.

“Saving the universe from the Hoarde.”

He laughed. “You do a lot of that.”

“The universe is a fucked-up place. It needs a lot of saving.” She paused and turned to look at him, as they reached her car.

“Are you interested in a mini-vacation?” He regretted the question the moment he asked it. This wasn’t the way to keep things neutral.

Her frown said she agreed. “Why? How?”

He couldn’t shrug off the thread of thought now. That would make things worse. “You look like you could use a break. I’m spending the weekend at the beach house, and you’re welcome to join me.”

She twisted her mouth.

“No expectation,” he said quickly. “This isn’t my not-so-subtle way of tricking you into anything.”

“Sounds like I’d be imposing.”

“I would ask for one thing in return.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Let me help you slay Hoarde.” He didn’t know why he was pushing this, but stubbornness wouldn’t let him drop it. Besides, it sounded like fun, and it had been a long time since he’d had a no-expectations weekend of fun.

“I shouldn’t.”

He was willing to prod a little more. Now that the idea was there, he liked it too much to drop it. “Any specific reason why not?”

“No. But it’s polite to say I shouldn’t, before I accept anyway.” Her smile was hesitant, and amusement danced in her eyes.

He grinned and worked a key off his ring. “Meet me up there.” He handed it over. “It’ll take me an hour or so, but you’re welcome to join me and leave whenever. In fact, you’re always welcome to come and go.”

“Let’s not get crazy with plans beyond this weekend.” She tucked the key into her jeans’ pocket.

What was it about this woman that compelled him to throw reason to the wind and made him want to ignore the world around him in favor of her company? A tickle in the back of his mind insisted he was missing something big in this picture, and it wasn’t only that Tristan would blow a gasket if this went too far.

Spencer tried to tuck the concern away. He didn’t let doubt drive his decisions. The nagging question didn’t stay silent, though, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.