Page 87 of His Reckoning

“For several weeks now.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

Dean pushes off the bookcase and crosses farther into the office. “No, what’s irrelevant is the fact that you’re suddenly pretending to be the old Sawyer again.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Really?” He gestures toward the laptop. “You used to work like this every night.”

“That’s called ambition.”

“And then, suddenly, you started leaving at five.”

“That’s called efficiency.”

Dean laughs quietly. “You’ve never left this office before sunset unless you had somewhere better to be.”

“That’s not true.”

“Except for the last several weeks.”

I stare at him because the irritating part is I know exactly what he’s implying… and he’s probably right.

“You’ve been going home,” Dean continues casually. “Earlier than normal.”

“So?”

“So, that means something.”

“It doesn’t.”

Dean crosses his arms. “You’re not a man who suddenly decides to start enjoying evenings.”

“I never said I was.”

“Then why have you been rushing home every day since Kayla moved into your apartment?”

The question hangs in the air between us. I don’t answer.

Dean studies my face for a moment. “Oh,” he says slowly.

Something about the tone makes me narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Now I’m curious.”

“About what?”

Dean tilts his head slightly. “What happened last night?”

I lean back in my chair. “Nothing.”

“Sure.”

“She lives in my apartment.”

“That’s not nothing.”

“She’s Melissa’s friend.”