The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped in without checking who was behind me.

Big mistake.

The moment the doors sealed shut, I caught the scent—woodsmoke and spice—and felt the pull before I even turned around.

Ethan.

D*mn it.

I slowly looked up, and there he was, hands in his pockets, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal those veined forearms I once kissed my way down. His tie hung loose around his collar like a noose he wore too well. His ...