What he didn’t expect was for the team psychologist to take the lead in the conversation that came next.

He was still reeling over what the other man had to say when he walked out the door. The first thing he did was text his family: Still in the squad. He added a smiley face to make it seem everything was okay.

He knew they’d respond, but it’d be by text. They all knew to give a person space around something this big and stressful. As they knew that Danny would share everything when he was ready.

Right now, however, he found himself wanting to talk to only one person.

You free? he messaged.

Catie’s response came quickly. Of course I am. I was waiting to hear about your meeting.

I’ll come over.

Auckland traffic meant it took him around a half hour to make it to Catie’s—and he still hadn’t figured out how he felt about what had just taken place. When the elevator doors opened on Catie’s floor, he looked up to find her standing in the doorway to her apartment, waiting for him.

He strode to her.

“Hey, hotshot,” she said, slipping her arms around him and hugging him tight in that way of hers that was so warm and intense and wonderful.

Exhaling, he wrapped his own arms around her in turn, squeezed. The heat of her body, the scent of her, the feel of her, it felt right, so right.

“Come on,” she murmured at last and stepped back. “Let’s go inside.”

He let her take his hand and tug him into the apartment, let her nudge him to the couch while she pushed the door shut. He took off his jacket and tie along the way, left them hooked on a stool at the breakfast bar. But he didn’t truly relax until Catie came down on the sofa too.

She sat in her favorite spot—at the far end, with her legs stretched out. He shifted so that those legs were stretched out over him and he could stroke her thighs as he spoke. “Good news is that I’m still in the Harriers squad if I want to be.”

Catie frowned. “If you want to be?”

Shoving a hand through his hair, he dropped his head back against the sofa. “Yeah.” The fabric of her tights was soft under his palm, but he wished it was her skin. “Shrink says I need a break.”

Catie shifted until she was almost in Danny’s lap. One hand on the back of his neck, she massaged his tense tendons.

“They think it’s stress related?” she asked, not quite able to compute that. Danny was the least stressed-out person she knew—he took the world in stride.