And then immediately felt guilty about it. Jensen may have been an overbearing jerk, but he’d never actively root for people to get hurt. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Jensen made no indication he’d heard the apology, too busy pinching his nose in obvious frustration. “No more contact with the victim’s family,” he said sternly. “From now on, I’ll be taking any calls from the Sanchezes.”

Micah froze. “You can’t do that. You’re not my boss – at least, not on this case; we’re partners.”

Jensen nodded patiently. “And partners look out for each other. We step in when we see that our colleague is doing something unhealthy for the case – unhealthy for themselves. I’m just looking out for you, Micah.”

“More like you’re looking out for your reputation,” Micah retorted, wanting to argue further, but knowing it was pointless when Jensen got that particular look on his face.

Not giving the man a chance to respond, Micah stood and rounded for the door. He made sure to slam it shut behind him, ignoring the half-curious/half-wary looks his co-workers shot his way as he stomped back to his desk.

Not Tessa, though. She didn’t even look up from her computer despite Micah’s obvious upset.

Needless to say, his day didn’t improve from there.

Stuck at a standstill on Nico’s case and his friendship with Tessa in turmoil, Micah felt like he was hanging on to his sanity by a very frayed thread by the time he got home from work. It seemed ironic to him that the only aspect of his life that didn’t suck at the moment was his relationship with Damon.

Unfortunately, the man wasn’t due home from Italy until the next day.

“Tomorrow,” Micah muttered to himself as he flopped into his bed that night. “Tomorrow will be better.”

There was no way it would be as unbearable as today had been – not with Damon finally back in the city. At least, there was no way it could possibly be worse.

(In hindsight, ha-ha-motherfucking-ha.)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

You’re invited to my place this evening – 6:00 sharp – so we can plan Damon’s birthday party over wine.

Micah stared, flummoxed at the message he’d received on his iPhone while he’d been at work.

He’d practically sprinted home from the precinct to check it, hoping he’d had a text or missed call from Damon, letting him know the man had caught up with work since his flight in earlier that morning, and that he was able to see Micah tonight.

Micah really wanted to see him. And hug him. And kiss him. And suck his cock until his belly was full of the other man’s cum. (That escalated quickly.)

But he’d had no new messages from Damon, just this.