Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

Nike’s pupils shrank, and when he spoke again, his voice was low and husky.

“When did you figure it out, babe?”

I pulled the ribbon off and grabbed a fistful of his hair, turning his face toward Mine. “How long have you been addicted to playing dress-up? Where’s your little gold wig tonight?”

Nike raised both hands. “There was a reason for that.”

‘Right. Of course, there was.’

The red eyes, the trembling, all of it was an act. He was sitting up, composed, pulling Me back onto his lap. “How did you know it was Me?”