Daniel pulled a pair of sweatpants over his basketball shorts and zipped up his fleece hoodie. He walked out of the bathroom, into the living room, and just shook his head. Quentin sat on the sofa in a short-sleeved T-shirt.

“Are you sure you’re not going through some kind of male menopause or something?” Daniel asked.

“I’ve always been warm-blooded.” Quentin looked over his shoulder and chuckled. “Dramatic much?”

“Nope.” Daniel forced the zipper all the way up and pulled the hood over his head, cinching the drawstring underneath his chin. “I freeze my balls off whenever you’re here.”

“Everyone knows I like it on the chilly side. They should have warned you before FinCEN agreed to this joint taskforce.” He held up several sheets of paper. “Did you notice how the Wi-Fi activity in most of the Uruguay properties escalated in July?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t find it unusual,” Daniel said, lifting the sheets from Quentin’s grasp. “That’s the heat of soccer season. Die-hard fans are willing to spend money to stream their favorite teams.” He grabbed his iPad. “But it’s worth making a note. The bad guys could be thinking that same thing. It would be smart to use a time when Wi-Fi activity is up to funnel more logins.”

“And we’ve already established that the people behind this scheme are smart,” Quentin said.

“Too damn smart,” Daniel grunted. The iPad dinged with a notification that the department meeting with FinCEN would be starting in another five minutes. “I’ve got my weekly conference with headquarters. How long you plan on staying?”

“I’ll be here a while.” Quentin gestured toward the kitchen. “I brewed a fresh pot of coffee while you were in the shower. Grab yourself a cup. Stay warm.”

He snorted a laugh. “Thanks.”

He could use a cup of coffee for both the warmth and the caffeine boost. Too many late nights of trying to find a way into Trendsetters’ security had him dog-ass tired. But a cup of coffee was no longer just a cup of coffee for him. There was an irrevocable association with a certain coworker tied to it. He doubted he’d ever be able to drink coffee again without thinking of his morning ritual with Samiah.

Not reaching for her again last night had been the hardest fucking thing ever. In retrospect, Daniel recognized that he should be grateful she’d had the presence of mind to slow things down. But another part of him—the part that had tortured him throughout the night by mentally continuing past the point when Samiah had stopped them—that part resented the hell out of the way his night had ended.

Moments after they’d pulled apart, Samiah had packed up her computer and hauled it out of the office. And he’d come back to this empty apartment. Alone.