"Why are you here?"
"I had to see you."
The words landed against the tin of the subway entrance and the slap of rain. Annalise's hair was plastered to her forehead. Her palms were cold. She hadn't planned on looking like this. She didn't care.
"You didn't have to show up like this," Ian said, hands shoved in his coat pockets, breath fogging between them.
"Did you expect me to wait for an invitation?" Annalise snapped. Her voice came out sharper than she'd intended.
Ian's mouth tightened. He looked at her, then at the street. No apology. No softening. He smelled like whiskey and old cologne.
"You look awful," he said.
"Thanks for the compliment," she said.
"You smell like a club," Annalise shot back.
Ian's jaw moved. "I was at a friend's thing. It ended late."
"Right," she said. "A 'friend's thing' that landed you on my doorstep at midnight?"
"Midnight is generous," he muttered.
"You could have called," she said.
He took a breath and looked at her properly. "You asked me to come."
"You came because I asked," Annalise countered. "Don't pretend you were planning this."
He didn't answer. He let the rain do part of it for him. People drifted past under umbrellas, indifferent. The subway lights hummed. The city didn't stop because two people had a fight on a corner.
"What now?" Ian asked finally.
Annalise stepped closer. "Sit with me. Talk. Explain
