Simon leaned back in his booth, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. His eyes roamed the room, scanning the crowd out of habit. The mission had been a success and his team was celebrating somewhere on the other side of this upscale club they’d dragged him into. The bass thumped steadily and the air was thick with music and tension. The noise didn’t really bother him, but the crowds of people pressing against one another did.

Come be surrounded by life, Price said. Like that was supposed to mean something to him. He scoffed at the thought.

His attention shifted as you moved into his line of sight. Effortlessly slipping through the crowd with a tray balanced on one hand, champagne bottles and glasses on top. The sequins on your uniform caught every flash, but it was your smile and eyes that truly lit up the room for him.

Simon watched as a group at a VIP table practically begged for your attention, their desperation bordering on obnoxious. You handled them with ease, offering polite laughs and fake smiles. One of the men leaned way too far into your space but you slipped away with a charming excuse, leaving him grinning in your wake.

As you turned to make your way back toward the bar, your gaze caught his. His eyes, shadowed and piercing locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Simon sipped his drink with a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. When you passed his booth again, he finally spoke. "Busy night?"

You stopped, turning toward him with a curious tilt of your head. “Always,” you said, balancing the tray on your hip. “You here to celebrate or just watching?"

A quiet chuckle escaped him, a sound that was more of a rumble than a laugh. He leaned back into the booth, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he regarded you, his eyes left a trail of fire.

“Bit of both,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. For the first time in weeks, maybe months; he wasn’t thinking about missions or the looming threat. Just you.