What a fucking idiot. Why did he send that last text? Felix was probably judging the shit out of him. She wasn't naïve. She was a grown woman, and she was hot. Beyond hot. Did she even know how hot she was? Ryan pocketed his cell and made his way out of the courthouse, planning lunch in his head. Unfortunately, his exit was blocked by a stiff-jawed crank in a black suit.

"Morning, Harris. We missed you in court," Ryan said, making no effort to hide his smirk.

"Fuck you, Ryan. I had a family emergency. My daughter is sick and my wife had to lead a budget meeting. How did it go in there?"

Ryan tried to imagine Harris patting the shoulder of his infant daughter while heating a bottle on the stove. The man was the opposite of maternal. "You didn't miss much. The victim cracked under pressure. The jerkoff was sentenced to two years probation."

"I knew it. Another year of hard work wasted. There's no satisfaction in life, you know that?" Harris yanked his phone out of his jacket and started a text, leaving Ryan to wonder whether he felt satisfied with life. If not, would he turn into Harris?

"So, you up for more abuse?" Harris stabbed at his phone as he continued his rant. "It looks like you're back on the Donovan case. It was reopened after you identified Jenny Mason last night. You'll be working with Fulton. Good luck."

The name Fulton had Ryan's blood pressure spiking. Fulton had been Ryan's partner when he joined the FBI, and the arrogant know-it-all made Ryan's first six months miserable. "Why the hell is Fulton on the case? He went back to the precinct to pretend to be a cop."

"Probably because he knows the Chicago homicide scene better than anyone on the force, so he's your main contact if you come up with anything noteworthy. You sure you don't want to go back to staking out strip joints?"

"Fuck no. I can handle Fulton. He might frighten little children, but he doesn't scare me. You heading back to the office?"

"No. I'm here to fill out some shit paperwork, then I have to relieve my mom on babysitting duty before her spin class. I'm so whipped, Ryan. You have no idea what it's like to have a kid and realize you would do anything to keep them safe. They totally fuck up your life."

"You make it sound like torture."

"It's a blessing and curse, but I can't go back now."

Harris hustled toward the elevator as Ryan hit the sidewalk, imagining a non-bachelor lifestyle. The image wouldn't coalesce. He had never even owned a dog. It was hard enough keeping his mom updated without actually telling her anything. Ryan checked the clock on his phone. Did he have time to swing by the gym before picking up lunch? He'd been neglecting his workout routine since signing on with the FBI, and Italian food went on his high carb list after he traded his football for a gun, but most importantly, there was a hot girl back at his apartment. Ryan made a beeline for the gym.

"Hello, stranger." Leslie greeted Ryan with a wink as she slipped her arm behind his back, walking him through the security gate. "You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about you since we saw each other naked. I thought you dropped off the face of the earth."

"I'm still keeping my head above ground."

The place was filling up with early lunch gym rats, otherwise Leslie would have trapped Ryan between the rowing machine and the water fountain, her favorite spot to entice him with her assets. It still didn't stop her from clinging to him like spandex as he went through his routine.

"Would you like to hang out tonight, Ryan? There's a band debuting at the Atlantis. I hear they've got an awesome front man."

"I've got company visiting this weekend, Leslie, but thanks for the offer."

"It's cool, just don't wait another six months before you show up here again. A girl might start to think you're using her for her body."

She wiggled her neon pink ass as she walked away, deliberately taunting him. Ryan had to admit, Leslie had a righteous ass, and she knew how to use it, but his mind was elsewhere. Did Felix like thin spaghetti or was she a fettuccini fan? Hopefully, his favorite grocer had a new batch of plum tomatoes. The last ones were less than optimal. He wanted to impress her. Why did he want to impress her? It wasn't like they were dating.

After working up a satisfying sweat, Ryan headed to Fortunato's Grocery, buying the ingredients for an Italian meal his mom would be proud of, including a small splurge on a bottle of wine. When he reached the landing of his stairs, he heard bass thumping. The culprit wasn't Mr. Weber in 2A. The old man wouldn't listen to something with that much beat, and 2C had been vacant since June. When Ryan opened the door to his apartment, he was assaulted with the sounds of... Who was that - Talking Heads?

Felix was on her hands and knees in the kitchen, scrubbing the cabinets with a sponge. She had changed into a tank top that revealed more tattoo art over her shoulders and upper back. She didn't even notice Ryan until he turned down the volume. That's when she glanced wide-eyed at him and popped to her feet.

"Woops! Sorry, Ryan. Music helps me clear my head."

"No problem. I think my neighbor is hard of hearing, anyway. Why are you cleaning my kitchen? Is it that bad?" Ryan started emptying the grocery bag as Felix leaned against the counter, looking embarrassed.

"Not really. I just needed something to keep my mind off things. I found the supplies under your bathroom sink and thought it would be a good way to pay you back for letting me crash here. I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries. I wasn't trying to be nosy."

"Not at all. I don't think I've ever had a girl clean my apartment, except my mom, and she is nosy."

"Moms are supposed to be nosy," Felix said as she wrung out the sponge and emptied the sink. "I didn't even notice the value pack of condoms in your bathroom. So, what's for lunch?"

Ryan didn't mind being exposed, but it triggered a memory, the one of Whitney Sprague ambushing him outside the boy's locker room, giving him his first kiss. "Spaghetti and homemade red sauce with Italian sausage. I hope you like thin spaghetti."

"We seem to be operating on the same wavelength. I love angel hair pasta."

Felix washed her hands and started cleaning the tomatoes, while Ryan chopped the garlic and onion. With the synthetic beat of eighties hits in the background, their movements seemed synchronized with the music. She slipped around his legs to retrieve the saucepot in the lower cabinet, setting it on the burner. He drizzled olive oil on the surface and put heat under it. After lining up the tomatoes for him to cut, Felix opened the bottle of merlot.

"I'll need a cup of that for the sauce," he said.

"I'm impressed by your methods of preparation. Sadly, not everyone uses wine."

"I don't typically use wine this expensive, but I figured we could enjoy a glass with the meal."

Felix appeared to blush as she searched through cabinets. "I hope you didn't put yourself out on my account. Where are your wine glasses?"

"Next cabinet over. You didn't put me out. You were the positive catalyst for a meal I enjoy preparing." Ryan admitted the move was strange for him. Usually, when he brought a woman home, he wanted to kick her out by sunrise. Maybe he was a man whore.

While the sauce bubbled on the stove, Ryan excused himself to take a shower. He figured Felix had noticed his post-gym aroma but was too polite to mention it. On his return, he caught Felix hovering over the pot. He filled a spoon with the sauce and let it coat his tongue.

"Just like mama makes it." Filling the spoon again, he offered it to Felix. She backed away like it was rat poison. "What's the matter? Are you afraid I have cooties?"

Felix lifted her hand to her nose as it wrinkled. "No. That's not it. Um... you smell..."

"I smell? But I just took a shower."

"You don't smell bad. What I mean is... You smell like my boyfriend."

Ryan realized he had splashed his neck with Polo after his shower. It was an unconscious maneuver. He only wore Polo when he was on the prowl. So why had he done it? Quickly divesting himself of his shirt, he walked to his bedroom to locate another one. He stopped back at the bathroom and washed his neck, and when he returned to the kitchen, Felix was topping off their wine glasses.

"I'm sorry I freaked out, Ryan," she said as she handed him a glass. "Your apartment has a lot of triggers for me. I've spent most of the morning convincing myself it's a bad idea to go back to the assholes."

"I'm sorry you got mixed up with assholes. I'm not saying your boyfriend is one, but he put you in a shitty situation." Ryan abandoned his glass to get the sausage started. He needed something to do while Felix stared holes into the back of his skull. She probably hated him for insinuating her boyfriend was a shitty asshole.

"You're right, Ryan. He did put me in a shitty situation, but he wasn't an asshole all the time, although fucking another woman in our bed definitely qualifies him."

"Do you think he would ever reveal his sources? Does he want out?"

Felix laughed. "Hell, no. He loves his life. It makes him feel powerful and important."

"What about you, Felix? Would you be willing to reveal his sources?"

Felix forced air between her teeth, causing a hiss. Maybe it was too soon to bring up sensitive topics, but he would have a better time protecting her if she'd throw him a bone. He didn't want another dead body on his hands, especially a friend's dead body.

"I haven't decided yet." She took a long drink and stared at him over her glass. "I know I've put you in a bad spot, Ryan, being a federal agent and having to swear to be honest and forthright. I just need a little more time."

"You may not have a little more time, Felix. As soon as these guys figure out you're not coming home, they'll be scouring the city looking for you. And what do you think they'll do if they find you?"

Felix lowered her head, speaking to the floor. "I'm screwed."