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Relief washes over me as she falls into step beside me. I’m all business, refusing to entertain sharing space alone with her in an office this time. We sit side-by-side at a small table in the VIP lounge. Yet despite working out in the open, the close proximity to her makes my skin hum despite my best intentions.

We work in silence for a while, a rhythmic back-and-forth that feels like a scene out of Criminal Minds. Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan, if Morgan were a paranoid wreck and Garcia was a forgiving pink-haired princess.

The tension lightens as we focus on the data instead of the elephant in the room. At least, I try to pretend it does. At times it’s hard to focus on the project at hand. I get distracted by a shared look over a line of code, or a subtle shift in her chair.

“It’d be easier if I knew what we were looking for,” she murmurs.

I struggle with the urge to share. My head falls. “I don’t want you roped in if this goes to court, Cass. I’m trying to limit what I share to protect you.”

She sighs, I’m sure feeling frustrated that she’s trying to solve this puzzle with one hand tied behind her back. Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she rises from her chair to take the call. I keep my eyes trained on her as she disappears behind the bar, grabs a coffee, and returns.

As she sits, she deposits the steamy mug beside me before placing her hand on my arm. The gesture feels too familiar. Like something a girlfriend would do instead of a cocktail server. I instinctively flinch, withdrawing my arm as if her touch has inflicted second-degree burns. The lack of sleep combined with my confusion over whatever the hell this is this girl has done to me causes me to become unhinged.

Okay, more unhinged.

“Look,” I snap. “I’m sorry for losing control the last time we were together. I never meant to send mixed signals. I’ve been under a lot of stress.”

She freezes, her hand hovering in the air.

“You’re very attractive, Cassidy. But there’s no place in my life for... this.” I gesture vaguely between us. I’m snippy, defensive, and I hate myself for it.

I don’t want to hurt her. Yet my walls need to go back up and stay there. So I deliver callous words, hoping they’ll prevent me from doing something I shouldn’t. “You’re off duty. I can get what I need.” I take a breath, looking at the hand that was just on my arm. “It’s not like that with us.”

Cassidy’s face turns a shade that rivals her hair. She pulls herself together instantly, her spine straightening. “Yes, Mr. Wilde. I understand.” She turns back to the screen, her focus determined and cold.

I feel like absolute shit. I watch her profile, the way she’s already shutting me out, and the truth slips out before I can stop it. “I’d like to continue to work with you, but this has to remain business only.”

“Yes. You’re right.” Fuck. Why does her agreeing with me feel like a sucker punch?

“Trust me,” I whisper. “It’s for the best. I’m not a good man.”

The terminal screen in front of me is a blur of scrolling text, but I’m not seeing any of it. My fingers hover over the keys, twitching with the urge to do what I do best. Invade her privacy.

I’ve managed to stay out of the chatter rooms tonight, replacing the dark web with projects Loretta deemed next level important. I decided to work late tonight to get a few of them caught up, while also trying to give myself the reprieve needed to pull my shit together. Instead, I’ve let my obsession with that forbidden temptress at the club get the best of me.

I could find out everything in under ten minutes. Does she actually live at the club, or is that beat-up car in the parking lot just a decoy? Is she married, widowed, or is that kid from the cafe a secret she’s keeping from everyone? I want to know if the cautious, flinching way she carried herself when she first started has anything to do with those scars.

I’m not an asshole by nature. Even after everything that happened to harden me, I don’t do bad things on a whim. At this point, it’s just a reflex. I’ve spent years using these skills to protect the people I give a damn about. And at times, give true love a chance.

I helped Broadie with Poppy, and look how that turned out. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen two people more in love. I’ve kept Luca, Matteo, and Gianni shielded from the reach of their estranged crime family. Even my old friend Dave from Princeton came to me recently, worried the girl he was seeing was in trouble.

The research is never difficult. And my actions are never nefarious. It’s almost second nature to dive in and find out how I can help. Hell, I even managed to create a video stream so my friends’ loved ones could participate in their wedding.

Yet this feels different. Regardless of how inconvenient it is, I’m developing feelings for her that go way beyond a physical attraction. It would be wrong to rip her life open without her permission. I wouldn’t want her doing it to me. I wince at the thought. As sharp as Cassidy is, she could probably find the cracks in my foundation if I’m not careful.

The door to my office swings open, and Frank strolls in, mid-bite into a large slice of pizza.

“Real professional, Frank,” Loretta quips from her desk.

“I’m delivering data and dinner, Loretta. Multitasking,” Frank retorts, his voice muffled by a mouthful of melted cheese. He drops into the chair across from me and kicks my desk, forcing me to look at him.

“What gives, man? You still look like shit. I haven’t seen you look like this since...” He stops. Our eyes connect, and the air leaves the room. Frank knows. He lived through that awful time with me when Isla vanished from the air like a puff of smoke. He’s my ride-or-die, the one person who knows exactly why I built these walls.

He lowers his voice. “Have you visited your parents yet?”

“No. I’ll go. Just psyching myself up for it.”

He shakes his head before folding his pizza in half and taking another greasy bite.