Nox

Charli wasn't worried, but I sure as hell was. Oren's message was odd and unexpected. He'd seen a picture of us and called. I either had my phone off or was busy beating the shit out of a punching bag. Either way, I didn't catch it. I did hear his message.

It said that he was leaving Sunday for London, and we needed to talk. He was pissed that I left town with him in New York—until he saw the picture. From one photograph he'd ascertained that I was obviously ...