"What other matter?"
"Don't play stupid. It doesn't suit you."
She walked toward me. Each step deliberate. Her grey eyes locked on mine with an intensity that reminded me why I found her so interesting in the first place.
"You said this wasn't going to be a regular thing," I reminded her.
"I said it was a one-time occurrence."
"And?"
"And I'm revising my assessment based on new data."
She stopped directly in front of my chair. Close enough that I could smell her shampoo—something floral layered over something sharper that probably cost more per bottle than most people's monthly rent. The proximity was deliberate. Everything about this girl was deliberate.
"Noel—"
"Don't." One hand came up, palm out, the gesture somehow both defensive and commanding. "I've thought about this. Extensively. I've run the scenarios, calculated the risks, weighed the potential outcomes against the probable costs. I've analyzed the data from multiple angles."
"You made a spreadsheet."
