Page 63 of Paws & Order

Unfortunately.

A couple of hours later, Cassian helps me gather the Whitmore files. Most of the morning disappears in teasing, coffee, and entirely unproductive attempts to concentrate. Eventually, reality wins.

Cassian grabs his jacket. "I need to stop by the station."

I nod. Trying to look casual.

Failing spectacularly.

"I'll survive."

"I know."

The words are simple. The look isn't.

He steps closer. Close enough that I can smell soap and cedar.

Close enough that my heart immediately forgets how to behave.

"I'll pick you up after work."

Not a question.

Something warm unfolds in my chest.

"Good."

His hand covers mine. Just for a second. Long enough to mean something. Long enough to make me want more.

"Don't get in trouble."

I rise onto my toes and kiss his cheek. "No promises."

His laugh follows me all the way to the door.

As soon as Cassian leaves, the apartment loses half its gravity. It's ridiculous. He's been gone less than thirty seconds and I still find myself staring at the closed door.

"Pathetic," I tell myself.

Gomez blinks from the couch. Judgmental little bastard.

I spend the next hour trying to work. Trying being the operative word. The Whitmore files are spread across my dining table, but every few minutes my attention drifts.

To the empty coffee mug in the sink.

To the faint scent of cedar lingering in the apartment.

To the fact that someone now says things like:

Don't get in trouble.

And means them.

A text arrives.

Cassian: You working?

I smile immediately.