Page 66 of Crossover

Grayson’s focus snapped back to me with a fresh glare that said,Are you kidding me? We’re on the run, trying to hide your location from everyone, and now, someone recognizes you?

I shrugged slightly.

A silent, unspoken exchange played across Grayson’s features.

Get rid of him. Now.

“I thought that was you!” Kyle’s perfect white teeth glistened under the amber lighting.

“Kyle.” I plastered on a smile. Because that’s what you do when you run into an old fling and you’re not, you know, a fugitive. “What are you doing here?”

Here, in this grimy diner in the middle of Podunk, Nowhere. Last I checked, Kyle was a surgeon. Humble roots or not, shouldn’t he be at a five-star hotel?

“Was just passing through on my way home from the annual meeting of the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons. Started nodding off, so I figured I should call it a night and popped in to grab a bite first.”

I was beginning to believe that I must have pissed off a witch in a past life, because what other explanation could there be for bumping into him at the worst possible time?

Okay, fine. I suppose meeting him outside the ladies’ room with the dead body inside would have been worse, but still.

Kyle’s gaze swept over my rigid body, but he was enough of a gentleman to not ask why I looked so tense or why I probably had dark circles under my eyes. Thank God. What would I say?

Funny story…I’m on the lam from the CIA and…you know, complications.

“Jeez.” He ran a hand through his hair, his face sparkling with delight. “How long has it been? Two years?”

Two years ago, running into Kyle would’ve been a dream. He was my junior high crush, and we had a brief thing in high schoolbefore parting ways for college. Whenever I saw him around Chicago, the timing was always off—he was with someone, or I was with Pete.

“Something like that,” I managed.

“I’m, uh…” Kyle grabbed the back of his neck, his smile falling. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

With that verbal gut punch, I fired a discreet death glare at Grayson.

“Me, too,” I said. “Thank you for the flowers.”

Out of the country at the time, he’d been kind enough to send a condolence bouquet with apologies for missing the funeral.

“Sorry, where are my manners?” Kyle stuck his hand out to Grayson. “I’m Kyle.”

With a forced smile, Grayson begrudgingly shook it—hard enough to make Kyle’s fingers turn white.

To anyone else, Grayson’s curved lips said, “Nice to meet you, Kyle.”

But said to me,You have got to be shitting me.

“Joe,” Grayson said.

I met Grayson’s gaze for a moment.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Kyle asked me.

“No,” I spat out quickly enough to get a glower from Grayson.

Even more awkward was the look of hope that took flight on Kyle’s face.

“So, what are you doing here?” Kyle asked.

“We were just on a little road trip,” I hedged.