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“Only one, facing the entrance.”

I cocked a brow. “Swear?”

He rolled his eyes. “I swear.”

“If I find one––”

“You won’t.” He pointed to the door. “Enough delaying.”

I hadn’t been.

At least not intentionally, but now that he was reaching for the handle, I wanted to run.

This was it. Go time. The second I stepped inside, no more messing around. The mission started, and I was no longer me.

The soundproofing in this fancy-ass building was top-notch, but the second the door opened, shouting broke the silence of the hall.

I froze, but Rod pushed forward and waved for me to follow. The short, white hallway opened to a large kitchen with a long island that separated it from the living room, where two men were watching the giant flatscreen that took up most of the opposite wall from the equally giant sectional leather couch.

Was everything in this apartment oversized?

“Hey! Turn it down,” Rod called.

The two men turned in perfect synchronization, one smiling and the other frowning.

“Sorry!” The more cheerful one reached for the remote and muted the football game.

Empty beer bottles, stained paper plates, and crumpled napkins covered the coffee table in front of them. I scanned the rest of the apartment, getting over the initial shock of the size, and took in the absolute mess.

It was like a frat house. Stacks of pizza boxes cluttered the counters. To-go containers overflowed in the two trash cans. More empty cans and bottles littered the open space.

This was supposed to be my apartment. Who were these Neanderthals, and why had they taken over every inch with filth?

“Cruz?” Rod asked.

The grumpy one pointed to the one still holding the remote. His sandy brown hair was much lighter than mine, and his blue eyes matched the ocean view through the windows. I was so used to the Velez embodying the definition of tall, dark, and handsome with deep tan skin and nearly black eyes and hair. He was so different. Was he even a part of the Pack?

He offered a two-finger wave. “Hey.”

“And Derek?” Rod seemed to guess.

“Yeah.” Mr. Sunshine stood and faced us with his arms crossed. He eyed me as I did the same to him. He looked young, or at least younger than I was. His features matched what I was used to, down to the distrust in his dark eyes.

“Are the other two around?” Rod asked, not letting the less-than-warm welcome irk him.

“They’re in the gym,” Cruz replied, not bothering to stand.

“Which is where?”

A knock sounded behind me. I turned to open the door, but Rod stepped in front of me and reached out.

“The luggage, sir,” a voice I didn’t recognize announced before whoever he was pushed my three bags inside.

Rod cocked his head. “How do you have access to this floor?”

“I’m on building security, sir, a manager. I’m one of two with full access cards.”

I tried to move around Rod to catch a glimpse, but he seemed to sense that and shifted to block me from view.