I close the door and pause with my hand on the knob.
I’m going to be sharing a room with Liev.
13
SERA
By the end of the week, Vincent has put me through a crazy amount of training. At this point, I’m dreaming of identifying exits and sightlines—and even though I’ll never admit it, I’m stronger for it.
Liev has been around just enough to be frustrating. Though he’s frequently in the building and in my peripheral vision, Brady conducted Liev’s indoctrination into Elite’s close bodywork standards separately from mine.
My head knows it’s for the best that we keep things professional, but my body feels differently.
I think I miss him.
Which is insane.
The one time we were together was when Brady gave us a lecture on “expectations, client conduct, and professionalism.” I’ve heard it before. It’s his standard new-hire speech. But this time he emphasized getting distracted, appropriate behavior, and remembering that fraternization is forbidden.
Hypocrite.
When his gaze cut pointedly to Liev when talking about experience levels and boundaries—all wrapped in tactical terms—something hot and humiliating crawled over me. It was obvious he wasn’t referring to Liev’s and my work experience.
I sat ramrod straight, fantasizing about kicking my brother in the balls, but Liev didn’t react. Not visibly, anyway.
There were no smirks or shared glances with me. Which made the whole situation worse somehow, and I felt every bit as young and inexperienced as Brady was making it clear he thought I was. Granted, there hadn’t been an opportunity, but I’d assumed Liev would follow up on what he started in the conference room.
More experimenting.
Had I imagined what I thought was between us?
By Saturday morning, I’m restless and grateful that I’m expected at group therapy. I need something to distract me from the constant fantasy reel that is playing on loop in my mind, starring a certain tattooed Russian gangster. Also, it will be my last one for a couple of weeks while we are traveling, and I want to explain to Hannah why I won’t be around.
The smell of espresso and baked sugar engulfs me when I push open the door and spot Hannah at our usual table near the window, one leg tucked under her, phone face-down beside her mug.
“I got you a coffee,” she says, as I shrug out of my coat and drape it over the chair. “The line was ridiculous when I got here, so I figured I’d save us both some time.”
“You are my hero,” I tell her, wrapping my hands around the hot cup.
She watches me take the first sip, eyes narrowing just slightly in that way that means she’s already noticed something is off. Hannah is annoyingly perceptive like that.
“You look different.” She cocks her head. “Lighter.”
I make a noncommittal sound but can’t help but smile, and her eyebrows shoot up. “Is my dark little cloud becoming a ray of sunshine?”
I do laugh then, crumpling a napkin to throw at her. “Shut up. I’m just in a good mood.”
“And…” She waves her hand in a circle when I don’t continue.
“I’m going on my first field assignment. I’ll be traveling, so don’t worry if I’m not at the next couple of sessions.”
Hannah’s brow furrows in a frown. “I thought you said you were just an analyst.”
“I am. But this is a special circumstance where they need a female on the team.”
“Why?”
“The client has a habit of seducing her security, so I’m there as a buffer.”
