The doors slid open with a cheerful chime, and I stepped inside. Maddox followed. I pressed the buttons for the fifth and sixth floors, unable to forget that Maddox lived directly above me.

“Thank you,” he said.

I thought I caught his attempt to soften his gruff I’m-the-boss voice.

While the elevator climbed five floors, the tension swirled around my supervisor and me, increasing just like the illuminated numbers above the door.

Finally, as my floor came into view, I stepped out and let out the breath I’d been holding. I turned to nod to Maddox, and just before the doors slid closed, he stepped out.

As soon as his feet hit the fifth-floor carpet, he seemed to regret it.

“Isn’t your place—”

“The next floor up. Yes,” he said. He looked over at my door and swallowed.

Upon seeing the scuffed blue paint on my door, I wondered if the memories came as fast and as hard for him as they did for me.

“Liis…” He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. He sighed. “I owe you an apology for the first night we met. If I had known…if I had done my job and thoroughly reviewed your file, neither of us would be in this position.”

“I’m a big girl, Maddox. I can shoulder the responsibility just as well as you can.”

“I didn’t give you the promotion because of that night.”

“I certainly hope not.”

“You know as well as I do that your report was exceptional, and you have a bigger set of balls than most of the men in our unit. No one has stood up to me the way you have. I need an agent like that as supervisor.”

“You questioned me in front of everyone just to see if I would stand up to you?” I asked, both incensed and dubious.

He thought about that, and then he put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.”

My gaze involuntarily fell to his lips. I was lost for a moment in the memories and how amazing it’d felt when he held me. “Now that we’ve established that, I think we got off on the wrong foot. We don’t have to be enemies. We work together, and I think it’s in the best interest of the squad to be cordial.”

“I think, given our history, trying to be friends would be a particularly bad idea.”

“Not friends,” I said quickly. “A…mutual respect—as colleagues.”

“Colleagues,” he deadpanned.

“Professionals,” I said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Agent Lindy, I just wanted to clarify that what happened between us was a mistake, and although it was quite possibly one of the best nights I’ve had since being back in San Diego…we…we can’t make that mistake again.”