I reached up with my fingers, sliding them down his rippled abdomen, smearing the beads of water until I touched the top of his towel. Every nerve in my body begged me to say yes.
“No.” I pushed past him and walked out the door.
I climbed back onto the treadmill, chose the fastest setting, and replaced my earbuds in my ear, changing songs until something screamy began to play.
Forty-five minutes later, breathless and sweating, I slowed my pace, walking with my hands on my hips. After my five-minute cooldown, I showered and then dressed before pinning my hair into a damp bun.
Val was waiting for me on the other side of the skywalk. “How did it go?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
I continued to walk toward the elevators, and she kept pace.
I tried my best to keep my shoulders and expression relaxed. “I ran. It was great.”
“Lie.”
“Let it go, Val.”
“You just…ran?” She seemed confused.
“Yes. How was your lunch?”
“I brought a sack—PB and J. Did he yell at you?”
“No.”
“Try to kick you out?”
“No.”
“I don’t…understand.”
I chuckled. “What’s to understand? He’s not an ogre. Actually, at this point, he might think I’m the ogre.”
We entered the elevator together, and I pressed the button for our floor. Val took a step toward me, getting close enough that I leaned back.
“But he is—an ogre. He’s mean and ruthless and yells at people when they walk into the fitness room during his hour even if it’s just to retrieve a left sneaker. I know. I was that agent. He screamed at me, totally lost his shit, over me trying to retrieve a fucking forgotten sneaker,” she said the last few words slow and emphatic as if she were standing in front of a snapping audience, sharing her slam poetry.
“Maybe he’s changed.”
“Since you got here? In three days? No.”
Her dismissive tone annoyed me.
“You’re being a tad excessive.”
“Dramatic?”
“Yes.”
“That’s just how I talk.”
“Dramatically?”
“Yes. Stop listening for ways to judge me, and hear what I’m trying to say.”
“Okay,” I said.
The elevator opened, and I stepped into the hall.
Val followed me toward the security door. “Joel insisted that I eat my PB and J in his office.”
“Who’s Joel?”
“Agent Marks. Pay attention. He texted me last night. He said Maddox has been weird. His baby brother is getting married next month—well, not married but remarried. No, that’s not right either.”
My face compressed. “Renewing their vows maybe?”
Val pointed at me. “Yes.”
“Why are you sharing this with me?”
“He’s going to see, you know…her.”
“The one who burned him?”
“Affirmative. The last time he went home and saw her, he came back a new man.” Her nose wrinkled. “Not in a good way. He was broken. It was scary.”
“Okay.”
“He’s sweating the trip. He told Marks…this is fucking classified, do you hear me?”
I shrugged. “Go.”
“He told Marks that he was kind of glad you transferred here.”
I walked into my office and welcomed Val with a small smile, and she breezed past me. As the door fit snuggly into the frame, I made a show of making sure it was closed, and then I flipped around, the wood of the door feeling cold and rough, even through my blouse.
“Oh my God, Val! What do I do?” I hissed, feigning panic. “He is kind of glad?” I made the most awful face that I was capable of and then began to pant.
She rolled her eyes and fell into my throne. “Fuck off.”
“You can’t tell me to fuck off while sitting in my chair.”
“I can if you make fun of me.” Her pants dragged against the dark leather as she leaned forward. “I’m telling you, this is a big deal. This is not like him. He doesn’t get glad, not even kind of glad. He hates everything.”
“Okay, but this is really non-intelligence here, Val. Even if it’s atypical, you’re pulling the fire alarm for a candle.”
She arched one brow. “I’m telling you, you just knocked over his candle.”
“You have better things to do, Val, and so do I.”
“Drinks tonight?”
“I have to unpack.”
“I’ll help you, and I’ll bring wine.”
“Deal,” I said as she left my office.
Sitting in my chair felt comforting. I was hiding in plain sight, my back protected, my body encompassed by the waist-high arms. My fingers clicked against the keyboard as small black dots filled in the white password box on the monitor. The first time I’d logged into the system, I remembered seeing the FBI emblem on the screen and feeling my pulse race. Some things never changed.
My inbox was full of messages from every agent on progress, questions, and leads. Constance’s name practically leaped off the page, so I clicked it.
AGENT LINDY,
ASAC MADDOX REQUESTS A MEETING AT 1500 TO DISCUSS A DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE CLEAR YOUR SCHEDULE.
CONSTANCE
Shit.
Each minute that passed after that was more agonizing than my earlier walk to the fitness room. Five minutes till three, I wrapped up my current task and walked down the hall.