"Are you planning to work today or just stare at that email for another hour?"
I looked up from my laptop. Rhys stood in my doorway. "I was reading it."
"You were glaring at it."
"That's how lawyers read."
"Christ." He leaned against the doorframe.
Two days since the compound, two days since we'd gotten back. And somehow Rhys had found a reason to stop by my office every few hours. The first time this morning, he'd claimed he was looking for a stapler. The Alpha of Graymoor apparently couldn't locate office supplies without my assistance.
"Did you find the stapler?" I asked.
"No."
I snorted, and his eyes lingered on me for a second. "You sleeping?"
"Mostly."
"Mostly isn't yes."
"I'm sleeping," he said.
I smiled despite myself. Something eased in his shoulders. He never said it outright, never asked if I was okay, never admitted he was worried. He just appeared, asked stupid questions, and made sure I was okay.
"Anything else?" I asked.
