His eyes are back on Rooney. “Mhmm.” I pause, waiting for him to give me his attention. He doesn’t. He watches Rooney as she laughs with Freya, as they turn and smile for someone from the gallery asking to take their photo. “Ax, you’re not subtle,” I whisper. “True,” he says, still staring at her. “No one’s ever called my work subtle.” Freya and Rooney are being photographed. Ren’s on his phone, probably texting Frankie. It’s just us. So I take a risk and say, “You could let the matchmaker try his hand—” “Aiden,” Ax cuts me off as his eyes meet mine again. There’s the tiniest bit of red on his
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