Page 104 of Broken Vows

Perfect. I hit send, then shove the phone in my pocket like it’s on fire.

A few seconds later it buzzes.

Carmen: What?

I reread my message. I was pretty clear.

Levi: Not wrong like bad wrong

Levi: Wrong like I think about you and my body doesn’t know what to do with it

Levi: I don’t think about other people the way I think about you

There. That’s clear enough.

I’m grinning at my phone when the double doors swing open. I shove it into my pocket as Dean stops short in the doorway.

For half a second, neither of us speaks.

Then his eyes narrow. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

I gesture lazily toward the windows. “Scaled twenty-eight floors. How do you think?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fucking incompetence,” he mutters.

Dean’s always going on about that. Can’t find good staff. Can’t find competent security. Can’t trust anyone to do a job properly.

He’s not wrong, I suppose.

He looks older than the last time I saw him. Not old, exactly—we’re around the same age—but there’s more gray at his temples now, and a weariness around his eyes that wasn’t there before.

Probably the second kid.

That’ll do it to a man.

After a beat, he straightens his tie and steps fully into the office, taking me in. His gaze flicks around the room, sharp and assessing.

“Where’s Drew?”

My eye twitches at the name. “Don’t ask.”

His attention snaps back to me. I tilt my head toward the guest chair opposite the desk. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Dean gives me a stiff look—probably because I’m sitting in his chair with my boots planted on his desk—but he drops into the seat without argument. Smart man.

I didn’t do it for a power play. The chair was just comfortable.

Mostly.

“Am I in shit?” he asks.

He’s right to assume that. Drew and I don’t usually make social calls. By the time we show up, it’s almost always too late.

“You do something that would put you in shit?” I ask.

“Not that I know of.” Dean leans back, studying me. “But with Ray, who the hell knows.”

Fair point.