Undeniably Yours Read Online Free PDF

involving Em he was smart enough to keep them to himself.
    “There was kissing?” I asked, hopeful.
    “No,” Jeremy stated.
    “It didn’t go well?”
    “Did you hear a word I just said?”
    Smiling, I could picture him, all tall, dark, and brooding. His grass-green eyes narrowed in annoyance. For some reason, irritating him amused me.
    “No second date?” I pressed.
    There was silence.
    Fine. He could be that way. I’d just get the goods from Marisol later. “I wasn’t calling about the date.”
    “I’m listening.”
    After playing a role in Sean’s and my rescues from the arsonist, Jeremy had admitted ties to the FBI. He had to say something seeing as how he’d “borrowed” an FBI helicopter. But that was all he’d said. Not that he’d once been a profiler…or still might be. Not about having an alias. Not about what happened to his family. I’d learned that information on my own, and didn’t feel the need to blab it. I hoped, as our friendship grew, that eventually he’d tell me everything.
    “I need a favor,” I said.
    “You’re high maintenance, you know that?”
    “Yeah, well, you’re grouchy.”
    He laughed. “What do you need?”
    When it came down to it, we psychics stuck together.
    Well, mostly. I shuddered at memories from the past week.
    I gave myself a good mental shake. “The security team to come back.”
    There was another stretch of silence before he said, “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”
    I wished I knew, but until I did, I had to prepare myself for the worst.
     
     
    Later that afternoon, Aiden held open the door of the Channel 3 studios, an eight-story building located on always-busy Mass Ave. Cars honked, T buses rumbled by, and pedestrians rushed past keeping their gazes fixed straight ahead.
    The door behind us whooshed closed, blocking out the noise, insulating us against the roar of the street’s hustle and bustle. Piped classical music serenely filled the cavernous lobby, bouncing off stately dark wood-paneled walls. As Aiden strode to the reception desk, I watched people zip in and out of the building. With each opening of the door, staccato bursts of city noise mingled with Mozart, creating an interesting harmony.
    Frenetic energy swirled in the air. It had been a heavy news week due to the heat wave, the brownout, the fires, and the looters. The city had been through hell and back, but if there was one thing Boston had proven time and again, it was that it could—and would—recover. Stronger than ever.
    Since the fires broke out, news coverage had been continuous and, for a Sunday afternoon, this place was hopping. As people hurried past me it felt as though it would be a long time before life around here returned to normal.
    I glanced at Aiden and wondered when, or if, his life would ever be normal again. With a ramrod straight back, he waited in a long line for his turn with the receptionist. To a bystander, there was nothing on his face or in his stance that hinted at his impatience, but knowing him well, I could see it clearly. The thin stretched line of his normally relaxed lips, the intensity in his eyes, the way his shoulders looked starched rather than comfortable. Except for the badge clipped to his belt, and the gun in a hip holster, he looked as though he could be just another executive in his gray suit, baby-blue shirt, and striped tie.
    Before coming here, he’d filed the missing persons report on Kira. Subpoenas and search warrants were being sought; the search for her car was on. Our investigation had truly begun. This building was our first stop. We hoped Kira’s producer, a woman named Nya Rodriguez, would have some answers for us as to what was going on in Kira’s work and personal life when she disappeared.
    During the ride here, I’d kept up a mostly one-sided conversation, telling him what he’d missed while holed up with Ava. He showed mild skepticism at Ebbie’s arrival into my life; didn’t question at all my