Chapter Forty Four

He stepped out of the elevator, and the logo on his sweater was of a local private courier company. I frowned sign for the package and walked back into the apartment. I placed it on my kitchen table and studied it. The box was plain aside from my name scrawled on it.

Tentatively, I opened it and pushed the tissue paper aside. And I stared right at a fucking blue lingerie set.

Close your eyes, Liv. Deep breaths. Deep brea—

Fuck this shit. I shoved my feet in my Uggs and tied my hair in a knot on top of my head, barely stopping to grab a zipped sweater before swiping my car keys and flying down the stairs. That assuming bastard. That annoying, assuming, forceful bastard.

I called Dayton and switched it to hands-free, pulled out of the parking lot.

“Miss me already?”

“Fuck off. Do you know where Ivan is?”

“Already? Really, Brenda.”

“Oh, believe me. He’s about to get fu