“We should go, Natasha.” I smile at her, hoping she goes for this idea. Hatching the ‘get rid of Tasha’ plan. “We could go for a drink and maybe talk somewhere else.” I raise a brow, even though I can feel Sophie’s eyes on me, eating into me, and I am trying so hard to ignore it, ignore the crushing guilt that wounded look gives me. She won’t understand right now, but I will explain when I return that I was maneuvering us some alone time again.

Natasha visibly relaxes, ...