“I think we broke him.” I drop my power suit jacket in a pile on Dima’s bedroom floor. “He was pathetic and I’m not even a real FBI agent.”
“Did he crack?” Dima is laying on his bed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a fitted black t-shirt. Somehow, he looks just as good in this as he did in the suit, which is saying something. He looked incredible in his suit.
“I thought he was going to pee on himself. He dripped sweat all over the desk and his hand was so damp when we shook. Pretty sure he cried when I left.”
Dima throws his head back and laughs. “I had no idea you were so ruthless. I always imagined you as the good cop type.”
I gasp in mock offense. “Excuse you! I may be small, but I can be scary.”
Dima reaches a hand out towards me, curling his fingers. “Are you sure he wasn’t just
