8

3:32 a.m.

By the time we get refills on our coffee, Bella seems to be mostly sobered up. "This coffee is shit," she says, shaking her head. She dumps more sugar into it as she speaks.

"Are you a coffee snob?" I ask. I honestly don't even notice bad coffee anymore. It's a part of life at this point.

She looks at me over her mug. "I am in fact," she sniffs.

I smirk and take a sip from my mug. "Well, I'm sorry that the best coffee shop in the city isn't open at three-thirty in the morning."

She chuckles. "And where is this magical promised land of coffee?" she asks, dumping another creamer into her cup.

"True Bean, off Lexington."

She pauses what she's doing, her eyes landing on me.

"What?" I ask, surprised by her sudden focus.

"Oh my god," she moans. "That's where I've fucking seen you!"

I stare at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

She shakes her head, tossing the empty creamer packets aside. "I work there."

The moment she says it, I realize I have seen her too. Her hair is styled differently, and she's obviously not wearing her work apron, but I can immediately picture her skillfully pouring several drinks at once.

"Fuck," I say, shaking my head. "Yeah, of course. You're the only reason that place is ever running smoothly."

She gives me a surprised smile, and it's so sweet that I feel my stomach twist.

"Thanks," she says, sipping her coffee. "It's actually sort of nice to be recognized for that work."

I think about my experience just this morning. Bella had been trying to train the new barista while managing the rest of the store. I wonder if her boss knows how valuable she is.

"Okay," I say, shaking my head and looking at her. "So coffee expert by morning, mad scientist by day… and karaoke queen at night. Am I missing anything?"

She giggles, and I can't help chuckling.

"Nope, that about sums it up." She sets her mug on the table and licks her lips. "Now it's your turn. Tell me about you."

I look at her in surprise. "There isn't much to know," I say slowly.

"Well, let's start with your name."

I bark out a laugh when I realize she's right, I haven't told her. God, I'm a fucking moron.

"Edward," I tell her, shaking my head. "Edward Cullen."

She nods. "What a… chivalrous name."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "How so?" I ask.

She shrugs. "I don't know, it just is."

I snort.

"How long have you been a cop?"

"About eight months now."

She nods slowly. "You look like the over-achieving type. Probably top of your class at the academy," she says, squinting at me. I bark out another laugh.

"I'm just competitive," I say, confirming her theory. She grins.

"Competitive," she says, musing it over. "Yeah, I can definitely work with that."

I stare at her over the table, waiting for her to elaborate on that, but she doesn't. Instead, she sips her coffee, making direct eye contact with me as she licks her lips afterward. Though she's been doing these things since we got to the diner, for some reason now it's different. There is a challenge in her eyes as she stares at me, and I feel that competitive edge in me wanting to rise to the bait.

I break our eye contact, looking down at my mug before I can do anything I might regret. I have to stop flirting and just take this girl home before I let myself make a decision that could jeopardize my career.