The next morning, I walked over to Sarah’s desk slowly, studying her as I drew closer. She typed furiously, her forehead slightly scrunched in concentration like she used to do back in high school. She was biting her bottom lip as her fingers flew over the keys. Her face looked a little pale today, and she had bags under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well the night before.

Why hadn’t she slept well the night before?

Had she been with someone? That, of course, was none of my damn business. Not anymore. And yet…I couldn’t stop the jealousy rolling in my gut at the thought of some other man keeping her up late at night. Once upon a time, that had been my job. I’d been good at it.

That hadn’t stopped her from leaving, though.

Her long brown hair was pulled back in a sensible bun today, but I knew from memory how soft it felt against my fingers, and how long it was when she let it fall down her back in thick waves. Her medium skin was softer than the finest silks, and her dark brown eyes, when they weren’t glaring at me in frustration, would shine with life and thought. She might only be five-foot-two, but when she was pissed at me (which was often) she gave off the appearance of a much larger woman. I knew that from experience, too.

All too well.

As if she sensed my approach, she lifted her head. She did indeed have bags under her eyes, so I’d been right about the not sleeping part. “Late night?” I asked dryly, unable to stop myself.

She frowned. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Bags.” I pointed at my eyes. “For days.”

She lifted her fingers to her cheeks, flushing slightly. “Oh.”

“Go out dancing?”

Her lush red lips pressed into a thin line. “No. I didn’t go out dancing.”

“Oh. A hot date?”

She slammed her glasses down. “No.”

“Why are you so angry?” I asked, holding my hands up in surrender. “As I recall, you love hitting the clubs, dancing with strangers, and getting—”

“That was when I was a teenager,” she snapped, setting her hands into her lap to keep me from seeing how irritated she was. It didn’t work. I saw. I always saw…and I knew all her tricks. “I haven’t gone dancing in a club since my second year at college.”

I lifted a brow, shifting the file I was holding to my left hand. “Why not?”

“Because—” She stopped talking, narrowing her eyes. Ah, there it was. The cool disdain she always showed me. “Do you need something, Rollins?”

If she called me Rollins one more time… I slapped the file on my open palm, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “Yeah, we have a case. Let’s go.”

“But I’m still working on—”

“And now you’re working on another.” I challenged her with my stare. “Unless you can’t handle that? Are you incapable of multitasking?”

Stiffening, she stood. She wore a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of black trousers, with a black blazer on top. It was professional. Prim. Proper. I still couldn’t take my eyes off her. “I am perfectly capable.”

“Well, then?” I said cockily, gesturing for the door.

Saying nothing, she brushed past me, her arm barely touching my abs—yet I felt it. Fuck, did I feel it. Being around her was torturous. It might have been years since she’d been mine, but I’d never gotten over her. Not completely. For me, it had always been her.

Sometimes I feared it would always be her, too.

I followed her, doing my best to keep my gaze transfixed on the back of her head, instead of dipping down to her swinging hips. She’d always had a way of walking that kind of made it look like she floated, and the gracefulness with which she moved defied gravity itself. And the way those pants hugged her ass? A gift from heaven itself.

Halfway toward the door, someone grabbed my arm. Hernandez stepped in front of me. “Dude.”

“What?” I asked, blinking, snapping out of it.

“I was just kidding, you know.”

Now I was really confused—and behind. Sarah was already outside. I shifted my feet restlessly. “About what?”

“Seducing her.” Hernandez glanced over his shoulder and shuffled closer. “I didn’t mean it. That’s playing dirty, man.”

I blinked again. “I’m not seducing her.”

“So, you’re just staring at her like you’re starving and she’s a steak for fun, then?”

Shit. Had I been staring?

“Ohhhh.” Hernandez nodded, eyeing me up. “Oh. I see.”

“You see what?” I asked between clenched teeth.

“Why this isn’t going to work.” He stepped back, rubbing his jaw. “You still have a thing for her.”

“I do not.”

Hernandez snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”

The door opened, and Sarah stuck her head in, her Ray Bans lowered on her nose. “Rollins? You coming?”

Hernandez snorted.

I elbowed him. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

“No, you’re not,” Hernandez muttered.

I walked away, ignoring my best friend. As I approached, Sarah held the door for me politely. For some reason, this pissed me off even more. “Thanks,” I said under my breath.

She eyed me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She fell into step beside me. “If you say so.”

“I do.” I took the keys out to my car, unlocking it. “I’m driving.”

Sighing, she walked to the passenger side of my black Charger. “You always drive.”

“I saw your driving record.”

Her cheeks flushed as she slid into her seat. “You did a background check on me?”

“Of course I did. I always do when I get a new partner.” I started the car and slid my shades into place. “Want to tell me about what happened in that club in North Carolina?”

Her cheeks went even redder. “Nope.”

“Fine.” I shrugged. “It won’t beat what I’ve imagined anyway, I’m sure.”

Her jaw fell. “How could you possibly think something dirty happened that night? You read the report.”

“It’s my specialty to find dirtiness in everything.”

“It was nothing like that,” I snapped.

“Then what was it?”

“It was none of your damn business,” she said immediately, smiling sweetly at me.

How did she manage to look like an angel, with the promise of death blazing in her eyes? “Suit yourself.”

“Want to tell me about December two years ago?” she shot back.

I backed out of my spot. “Nope.”

“That’s what I thought.”

I gritted my teeth and pulled out onto the road. “Actually, you know what? I will. I went to the bar, and there was an asshole there picking on a group of out of towners, throwing racial slurs left and right. So I stood up, asked him to leave, and he refused. When he refused?” I shrugged a shoulder. “I showed him the way out personally.”

“With your fist,” she said softly.

“Among other things.”

She nodded, staring out the window. “Good.”

“I told you mine, now you tell me yours.”

Sighing, she traced an invisible path on the door. “I was seeing a guy who wasn’t so nice. He got mad at me for talking to my study partner—a cute guy—and punched him. When I tried to stop him, he dragged me away and hit me—”

I growled under my breath.

“And broke my nose.” She touched her nose as if it was visible. It wasn’t. “He threatened to kill me if I told them he did it, so I told them I got punched by some girl in a bar fight over a guy.”

I swallowed hard. “Did he hit you before that?”

“He…” She stiffened. “Does it matter?”

“Sarah…”

Sighing, she fidgeted with her seat belt. “It’s done. He’s gone. It doesn’t matter.”

Son of a bitch. “Just tell me one thing. Is he in jail?”

She lifted a shoulder. “He was when I left.”

He better be in jail. If he wasn’t, I might have to pay him a visit. Then again…maybe it would be better if he wasn’t. Clearly, the man needed someone to remind him how to properly treat a lady.

And I knew just the way to do so.