Draven.
Dennis's eyes dropped to my chest before they found my face again, already twitching with mischief.
"You just wrapped up your swimming lessons with Meredith?" he asked, brows raised. "And you came straight here instead of changing out of your wet shorts?"
I didn't answer. I didn't need to. The soaked fabric clinging to me was doing all the talking.
His gaze slid down again, and before he could open his mouth to say something even dumber, he noticed the sheet of paper in front of me.
"What's this?" he asked, already leaning over the desk like a nosy pup.
I picked it up and folded it in half. "An agreement."
Dennis's interest sharpened, the way it always did when he sensed something personal. "What kind of agreement?" he prodded.
I didn't bother answering.
And that was when he moved faster than I gave him credit for. His hand shot out and snatched the sheet from my fingers.
"Dennis—"
