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come off as the kind of man who didn’t put much thought behind his actions.
    They traveled along the edge of the dance floor toward the other side of the cavernous room. Sin had an open-concept design—exposed beams all around the main floor, a bar spanning one side and tables lining the other walls, and a spiral staircase leading to the second-floor VIP lounge that overlooked the club. Tucked in various points of the club were little alcoves sectioned off with blood-red velvet curtains. Some of them contained plush loveseats for customers who wanted to take a breather in privacy, but according to AJ, most people ducked into those hidden nooks to fool around.
    The alcove where the dealer had directed her didn’t have any furniture. It was nothing but a dark, cramped space. Standing room only, which placed her in perilously close proximity to Reed.
    There were ten minutes left in their allotted thirty, but Darcy wasn’t ready to raise the subject she’d come here to discuss. Her hands had gone clammy, her pulse racing as she and Reed squeezed into the tight space. She wondered if a few of the walls in there were sound-proofed, because the music from the club sounded muffled in the alcove, making it much easier to hear each other.
    “What are you going to do when he shows up?” she asked.
    The flashes of light streaming in from the slight gap in the curtain highlighted the deadly expression on Reed’s face. “I don’t know yet.”
    “Bullshit. You’re totally planning on roughing him up, aren’t you?”
    When he shrugged, his shoulder jostled hers, and the heat of his body seared her bare skin. Her heart beat even faster.
    “Maybe,” Reed said in a vague tone. “Depends on how agreeable he is.” He paused. “But if I ask you to leave, please don’t argue with me, okay?”
    She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of Reed getting violent with anyone, even a lowly drug dealer, but she was discovering that arguing with Reed was about as effective as trying to teach a dog to speak French. Total waste of time.
    “So…school starts soon, huh?” His expression was tinged with awkwardness, as if making small talk wasn’t his forte.
    Darcy nodded. “Next week.”
    “Are you looking forward to it?”
    “Definitely. I already started all my prep work last week. Setting up my classroom, going over the curriculum. Plus a lot of boring meetings, but I’ve gotten pretty good at secretly playing Candy Crush while Principal Donnelly babbles on about budgets and rules of conduct.”
    Reed chuckled.
    “I’m dying to see my students again.” She glanced over with a smile. “I teach eighth-grade homeroom and English for grades six to eight, so a lot of my seventh graders from history last year will be in my homeroom this year. I’m excited.”
    “AJ said you’re really good with kids.” His voice turned gruff. “That’s a damn good skill to have. A lot of folks don’t know how to relate to kids.”
    “Oh, I love them.” She grinned. “It helps that most of the girls watch all the same shows I do. Last year we held a weekly American Idol discussion group after school.”
    He cringed. “You’re into all that reality show crap? I’m disappointed in you, Darce.”
    She was quick to voice a defensive protest. “I have a thing for Keith Urban, okay? So sue me.”
    Reed’s head tipped to the side. “Keith Urban, huh? Is that your type then, Australian cowboys?”
    “Naah, he’s just pretty to look at.”
    He made a disapproving noise with his tongue. “Ha, and people accuse men of objectifying women. But you ladies are way worse, and you know it.”
    “Yeah, we’re pretty terrible,” she confessed. “I can’t deny that.”
    Chuckling again, Reed checked the black tactical watch strapped to his wrist. He was one of the only men she knew who still wore a watch. Most people, herself included, just checked their phones these days.
    “It’s been thirty minutes,” Reed told her.
    Darcy shifted her gaze to