Caleb Whitney sat hunched over his desk, trying to lose himself in the mountain of paperwork before him. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold, sterile glow across the precinct. The constant hum of voices and ringing phones barely registered in his ears as he focused on the rhythmic scratch of his pen. Anything to drown out the voice in his head—the one that kept replaying the conversation he'd had with Chief Kendrick that morning.

I need a new partner.

The words had come out colder than he'd intended, but what other choice did he have? Mia Kendrick was everything he couldn’t afford to care about—strong, determined, fearless. Six years of watching her fight beside him, her blue eyes blazing with resolve, had chipped away at the walls he'd carefully built. That was dangerous. And he didn't do danger. Not when it came to feelings.

He clenched his jaw, forcing his hand to keep writing as though that simple action could push away the regret clawing at his gut. Caleb knew he wasn’t good with emotions, but it was better this way. For both of them.

A sudden loud slap on the desk jolted him from his thoughts. He looked up, and there she was—Mia Kendrick, standing with her hands planted on his paperwork, her jaw tight, eyes blazing with anger. He'd seen that fire in her a hundred times before, usually directed at some suspect or lowlife, never at him. Until now.