The thunderstorm washed away all traces of Kara and her charge; swept them down into the grates of the open sewers, gurgling and roiling like the unbidden thoughts assaulting my core.
I leaned over the edge of the bed and placed my face into my palms. The backs of my eyelids continued to replay one particular subject on repeat, a perpetual unending loop of what I knew to be true but didn't want to acknowledge. A snare that threatened to unravel me only after night's embrace lifted like a veil from the city, and the following morning settled on me in the dawn's brushstrokes.
Connor's warmth sliding down my shoulders as he asked over and over, Are you alright?
No, I wasn't alright.
He'd reprimanded my empathy for his kind, suggested I resign, and then covered up my deceitful ploy to warn wanted suspects of the police's approach. He should've ratted me out, but instead he'd kept my secret. Then he acted as if he cared about me, taking the time to write messages in the bridge to my heart.
To make matters worse, Hank messaged me this morning: Don't come in today. Leave the explaining to me.
I ordered a pizza for breakfast and lounged on the couch, wasting time in front of the TV. I was a mess. I hadn't showered, I hadn't eaten a single bite since yesterday, and I already missed Emma. It was best I refrained from contacting her; Mom had to cool off first.
There was a polite knock on my door from the pizza delivery man just a few minutes later - not many people ordering pizza for breakfast, apparently. Collecting my meal, I settled back down into the couch when my phone dinged with another message.
It was Hank again. How are you? Did you sleep well?
My brow knitted together at his unusually tactful words. Are you drunk? Anyways, what about Eden?
I waited and waited. The show I'd been watching ended, and the news replaced it. To my chagrin, Hank never replied. After devouring another slice, I sent, I asked you a question.
My phone immediately answered back, as if chastising me, but it wasn't Hank.
Chris? He rarely messaged me about anything, preferring only to keep his wife as his only contact. Hey, no-show. What's up?
I rubbed my eyes before typing out a reply. Hank didn't want me on the next case. And I got kicked out of my house. Hey, Hank won't answer me can you flip him off for me?
Three dots appeared and then, Your mom's a piece of work. Hope Emma's good. You okay? Need anything?
I'm okay. Thanks.
Chris took longer with his next message. Hank gave his phone to your Hardware. Says he never texted you.
That was low of Hank, lying out of his ass. Not that I wasn't used to it, especially where feelings were concerned. Excuse me, who?
Chris texted back. Mr. Turns-My-Software-Into-Hardware?
Mortification froze me in place, and a blazing fire rushed over my entire body.
Everyone knows. You aren't exactly subtle about these things. Chris continued.
I sucked in a shaky breath and typed. I just now let myself realize that….
With Chris's next message, I could almost hear his laughter. Wondered when you'd face reality. Sucks to be you, you're awful with feelings.
I sent him the most logical counter I could think of, gloating in my argument against Chris's inevitable vow to help me win over my fancied eye-candy. Last time, he'd been my wingman for the barista Sam, from Chris's preferred cafe; it'd worked, but the guy had turned out to be, as Emma so eloquently put it, a dick. He'll return to Cyberlife when the case is done. It'll fade. No point. Tell Hank to answer me!
Ouch, denial only makes it worse. Careful. I think we both know this isn't just a little kindergarten crush.
I wanted to say he didn't know how I felt, but he was one of my closest friends at the DPD. There was no fooling him. This wasn't simply a little crush, I was past that. I felt genuine concern for Connor; I worried about him, and I felt beyond stupid, because how many days had it been since we'd become partners? Two?
…is it true that stressful situations build attraction? I cringed even as I hit send, but I needed confirmation that I wasn't crazy - my hormones were out of whack just by being in the same vicinity as Connor. Lord, he looked so damn good in that suit…
Attraction could happen instantly or build gradually over time, I knew that. I'd experienced both several times. Moving onto the oh shit I think I actually like you and want to put my face up in your face phase took a little longer. It had to be all of these crazy deviant cases that were making me entertain the fantasy of Connor sitting down for a cliché restaurant date. With me. Not that it'd ever happen.
Besides, where did I even stand with the guy? He was considerate and kind one moment, then the next, he turned cold and became utterly absorbed in his mission. Then he would throw me for another loop, risking said mission by lying for me.
Chris sent, I could ask Hardware for you? Sure he'd know the answer ;)
I almost knocked over my glass of water when I shot up from the sofa and furiously typed, No, NO, I forbid you! DON'T.
He replied, Lucky you, Hardware and Hank just left.
I deflated like a punctured tire. If Gavin finds that Eden FAQ doc lemme know. Snap a pic of his face.
Will do.
Okay, so I liked Connor; I mean, who wouldn't? It wasn't just that he was beyond gorgeous - because he was - and just looking at him made me lose all rational thought, but I truly wanted to get to know him more. I wanted to know his dreams, his desires, what lay swaddled and hidden in his heart. There was something behind the mask of CyberLife's prototype that intrigued me, and I think Hank knew there was something deeper beneath that fancy uniform too. He wouldn't bother with him otherwise. Connor was in denial about who he was and how he viewed the world - I was positive about that. He was just like Daniel, at the tip of awareness, but never quite there - he refused to acknowledge it, just like I'd refused to believe I wanted to get closer to him until I was forced to recognize the truth. It made sense - he was programmed to believe deviants were evil, so how could he possibly be one himself?
It'd been a long time since I'd had an entire day off, and it puzzled me. What was I supposed to do? Sitting here trying to understand Connor was fruitless, and it wasn't helping me cool down. If anything, it only made me more riled up.
My stomach growled. Despite wolfing down an entire box of pizza, I felt hollow, as if I'd not had a single slice. The grocery store wasn't a long walk from here, and it'd give me a good break from certain distractions.
Grabbing my key card and tugging on a plain black hoodie, I headed out into the streets. I drunk the fresh air into my lungs; there was a crisp, icy bite to it. December was fast approaching. I'd have to find Emma a gift soon.
Wishing I'd invested in more than just one hoodie and a simple leather jacket, I shoved my hands into my pockets and made my way down the sloping sidewalk.
Darkness settled over the streets like a cloak, and I glanced down at my phone. Had I really wasted that much time in front of the TV? It was nearly eight.
Swiping a hand over my concealed, off-duty carry on, I allowed myself a moment of calm. Though the sun shone bright with CyberLife's promise of the future, Detroit's grimy buildings and dirty sidewalks were a festering backdrop that everyone ignored. No-one looked past the immediate benefits of owning an android that was cheaper than a car, and yet unlike anything mankind had ever dreamt of one day having. And why should they, when Elijah Kamski, the creator of such impossible possibilities, guaranteed their absolute obedience?
It'd resulted in catastrophic, near-irreparable damage to the city. Unemployment was at the highest it'd ever been in history, not just this city but in the whole of America, perhaps the world. Crime rates were soaring, and the very same androids that people thought to be simple machines were now attacking them. Enough for CyberLife to consider the repercussions and step in by providing Connor, to clean up their mess before it got any worse and people stopped buying them altogether.
The nearest grocery store was still a few blocks away when I passed an alleyway on my left, with a man crouched beside a dumpster. I'd taken a different path to bypass the intersections, a less than desirable one, but one I often traversed to buy food. His hood was pulled low over his head, and his gaze shifted back and forth. Not an unusual sight on this route, but I still kept a note of it in my mind.
The streets were quiet, and the single streetlight before me winked on and off, growing weaker with each of my approaching steps, until it died completely right as I passed beneath it. That wasn't ominous at all.
A brisk wind sent my hair flying. When it passed I looked up to find that the man was staring at me, his hood claimed by the gust.
It should've been too dark to see him, since the next streetlamp was farther away and he lurked in the shadows. But he was illuminated by his LED - it bled like fire over his hunched form, the image of a rabid wolf out to snack on Little Red.
He lunged for me in one fluid movement, smoother than any human could have managed.
I spun out of his range and rammed my elbow into his back. The deviant went down easily and I kicked him once more, ensuring he stayed put. I pulled my gun from its holster and pointed it at him. "Stay down or I'll shoot!"
I was vaguely aware that this street was deserted, and the quiet only served to add to the creepy factor when he snickered and said, "Evening, miss cop. How's hunting my friends going?"
There shouldn't be any way for him to know my occupation; a shiver shot down my spine, but I remained steadfast. "Be quiet!" I warned him, aiming the gun. A glint of silver shone in his own hand. "Drop your weapon."
"You think all of us will just run away like dogs, don't you?"
The deviant made to stand and I roared, "Drop your weapon, get down!"
He shot forward like a viper, his knife arcing right for my eye in a glare of silver. I dived toward the ground, clipping his kneecap with my fist, and toppling him to the sidewalk. His ankle tangled in my legs and I staggered back, falling against the wall.
How was he so fast?
There was a blur and I ducked. With a sickening crunch, the knife bit hard into the wall inches from my face.
In one smooth motion, I grabbed his wrist and yanked, hard. His knife clattered to the ground and I kicked it far away from his reach. My other hand slammed into his artificial jugular.
The rain came pouring down, relentless, coating the ground in puddles, almost instantly. It blinded us both, forcing us to look through screwed gazes. The reflection of his LED shone back, like drops of freshly spilt blood.
I didn't expect the second blade.
I registered the movement before anything else and I instinctively snapped my body out of the way just as the blade ripped down. It gutted the abdomen of my hoodie open.
He gave me no time to train my gun and make a shot. His foot hit me in the stomach and he shoved me to the ground. "How many more of my friends are you gonna tear apart? You think we're nothing!"
I blinked up through the rain, drenched and sodden. Exhaustion creeped through my bones, sapped away my energy with the cold. My movements were slower than before and he continued to kick me like I was a soccer ball, dribbling me between each foot.
I cried out as he stomped down on my hand, again and again, until the gun fell from my limp grasp. The rain continued to pelt down, heavier with each pounding droplet.
The deviant sneered. "Rot, filth," he hissed scathingly.
Maybe he was afraid he'd get caught if he killed me, I'm not sure. Whatever his reason, the deviant spun on his heel. He left me there, wheezing on the wet ground.
I had to get up. My body screamed at me to stay put, let myself heal, but I gritted my teeth and grabbed onto the wall for support. It took all my strength to reach down and collect my gun.
Everything was spinning. Leaning against the wall, panting, I trudged forward. My cell. Where was it? I should call Hank.
I fumbled to withdraw it from my pocket. To my dismay, it tumbled from my fingers in the slick wet of the rain, and smashed to pieces on the pavement. I stared down at it in consternation.
That's when I heard footsteps. Heavy ones. Thudding toward me.
The deviant was back. He'd decided to finish me off after all. I curled my finger over the trigger. Flashes of the Eden Club girl, blue thirium pouring from her head, seared my mind. If I didn't - my breaths rasped - he'd kill me.
Weakly, I turned around and aimed at the figure. I couldn't see him well through the rain, just a blurry shape, getting closer and closer. My arms shook wildly, refusing to focus on my target. Get yourself together, dammit!
"Officer!"
My shaking intensified so badly I could hear the magazine rattling in the gun. "Stay back!"
"It's me, Connor!"
My breath hitched in my throat as he came into focus beneath the dead streetlight. His LED was a furious yellow, obscuring half of his face in shadow, and shedding a pool of light on me. His entire face crumpled like he couldn't stand to see me like this. He drew to a halt, his shoulders heaving and his eyes rounding. His mouth parted, but he didn't say anything.
He reached for me.
His hand skimmed over mine, featherlight, and lowered the barrel of my gun to the pavement. I let it slip from my hands and he clicked the safety on, securing it to the holster at my hip.
"Where is he?" I asked.
"I'll tell you after I get you out of this rain."
"We have to catch him!"
"You're supposed to be off-duty, Officer." The barest hint of bemusement tinged his voice, making me glance up at him in surprise. "I believe Hank ordered you to stay home today."
When had he gotten on a first-name basis with the grouchy drunk? Connor didn't seem to understand my absolute dumbfounded reaction, so I moved on to the next best thing. "I needed groceries….." I started. My head felt muzzy.
"Allow me," he said, beginning to reach out.
"No, you don't need-"
"Officer," Connor interjected, his voice firm but not unkind. "Bear with me."
"What do you-"
His hand slid to the small of my back, and I forgot what I'd been about to say as his face came so close I could feel his breath on my lips. For an embarrassing heartbeat, my eyelids fluttered closed, and I felt a strange tingle skid along my mouth, as if in anticipation. Then the world dipped and I was floating above the earth, Connor's dark gaze mere inches from mine.
My eyes rounded as I became putty in his hold, all my walls coming down in my weakened state. I affixed him with a vulnerable expression I wasn't used to making. He noticed my odd look and blinked, slowly, as if trying to understand what he was seeing. This girl, who'd come undone in an instant in his arms, nothing like the officer he was familiar with.
A drop of water slipped off his chin and landed on my nose. It was like the day I'd helped him up when he'd fallen off Ortiz's porch, but in reverse. It also broke the spell, catching me off guard - I suddenly didn't know where to look.
"Put your arm around my neck," he instructed. Too flustered to argue, I complied, unprepared for the scorching heat of his bare skin. It zipped through me like a sparking wire, and I curled my toes in their boots.
Someone needed to shoot me. My pulse skyrocketed and I panicked, knowing Connor was sensing every reaction my body was making. It wasn't fair he could tell from just a glance how fast my heart was beating, exactly how high my temperature had spiked, how sweaty my palms had become. I feared he'd mention these to me, as he usually did, but for the first time since I'd been his partner, Connor just ignored them. He politely shifted his hold on my body and acted as if nothing had happened. Somehow, that made me even more nervous.
He was so careful carrying me back to my apartment that I slipped into a hazy trance as he carried me through the rain and back into the lobby of my apartment. My forehead pressed against his chest, and I faded into a place where all I could see, all I could feel, and all I could smell, was him. The solid, firmness of his body, his warmth, his powerful strength; a comforting shield. I couldn't make out what he was saying to the android at the front desk, but whatever he'd said had worked because the next thing I knew, I was sinking into my mattress and my shoes were being taken off. Along with my socks.
Then my pants-
"Connor!" I gasped, sitting up with a grimace at the ache beginning to spread over my stomach.
He cocked his head to the side, alarmed. "Did I hurt you?" I could tell he was scanning me again.
"I can do that," I stammered, cheeks red, trying to bat his hands away from my waistband.
"There's no need to tax your body any more than it already has been."
"No, no, no, no. Let me change myself."
He held my gaze, his lips drawing into a thin line, and I thought he was going make a retort. Then he finally dipped his head in acquiescence, removed his hands from my hips, and rose to his feet, staring at me.
"Can you give me some privacy?" I requested.
"Certainly. I'll be outside your door."
He promptly closed it behind him, and I struggled out of yesterday's work clothes that I'd slept in. I could already see the beginnings of several bruises blooming on my skin in angry, red welts. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I changed into an old baggy shirt and pajama bottoms.
"Are you alright?" Connor asked from the other side of the door, sounding unusually panicked at my silence.
"Yes, I'm done," I called out, and he instantly opened the door and bounded over to my side.
"Tell me what you need from the store."
"It's fine, I-"
He fixed me with a pointed look, and I sighed. "Captain toast crunch cereal, milk, and, uh, waffles."
"Noted." I had the faint impression that he was about to go on a rant about how poor those food choices were and about which food sources would give me the proper nutrition, but to my surprise, he said nothing.
He loomed over me, and I was reminded again of just how tall he was. I craned my neck to look up at him. His hands guided me down into the bed lightly, careful not to press too hard and cause injury. He pulled up the covers and tucked me in with slow, deliberate movements. My heart was hammering like a jackrabbit as he leaned down to examine me.
"I'll be right back," he murmured.
Life has a sick sense of humor. When I opened my eyes to the orange glow of the sunset, I had a difficult time recalling what day it was, and why I was tightly tucked into my bed, like I might try and escape if the covers weren't secured properly.
I started to sit up when a sharp pain assailed me and I groaned, tensing. Right, I'd been kicked around by a deviant last night, lucky me. He'd gotten away, and-
Fuck my life.
No, no, no, no. I scraped my fingers through my hair, cringing at the slick of grease layered on top of it. I had no makeup on - or rather, nothing new and fresh. I didn't usually care too much about it, but here I was. Bemoaning every choice that had led me to this moment.
Okay, I told myself, calm down. He probably just brought your groceries home and left. I frowned. Where did he stay? Hank sure as hell wouldn't keep him, unless their relationship had progressed exponentially over the course of a few hours. They were on a first-name basis, after all. I thought of the androids standing sentry back at the station. That was more than likely it, but then again he wasn't just any android. He was the most current, a CyberLife prototype. Did he even need to sleep? Or go into rest mode, whatever they called it.
Before I could wind myself up any more, I slid out from beneath my sheets, wincing with the pain that flared up, and staggered into the connecting bathroom. Mascara smudged into the dark circles beneath my eyes, and my skin was pink and splotchy.
What time was it? I'd be late for work. But a shower was in high demand. I'd let myself go too long without one. I gave myself just two minutes, letting the water scald my body while I scrubbed shampoo through my hair and rubbed away my makeup. Wrapping a towel about myself, I slipped on the tiled linoleum on the way out, catching myself on the doorframe before I could fall and exacerbate my injuries further. I tugged on a change of clothes, pushing through the pain as fast as possible.
With more time than I normally took, thinking I could afford it with my speedy shower, I applied a fresh, clean coat of makeup, and blowdried the hell out of my hair. I tried in vain to ignore the unbidden thoughts curling through the steam in the bathroom: Connor sweeping me into his arms, our faces so close I swore I could've felt the tip of his nose bump mine as he'd adjusted his grip on me.
God, I had it bad. Now more than ever, I needed to keep my guard up. I'd already let down my defenses last night, and I was terrified that when I walked into work he would have figured out how I felt about him. Not like I should be expecting anything less, if everyone else had known before I had myself. I could go on pretending, act like it was nothing.
I set the dryer down on the counter with a sharp clack. Who was I kidding? If Connor didn't figure it out, then there really was a god after all.
As I reached my closed bedroom door, I paused with one hand on the handle as a realization hit me. Even if he did know, it's not like he'd do anything about it. His mission was his number one priority. My shoulders slumped.
I passed through the living room, gasping as a sharp pain lanced my side. "Fuck," I hissed, holding onto the bar's countertop as I collected my breath. "I didn't break a rib, did I?" I exclaimed, pulling my shirt up to look at my stomach. A myriad of splotches decorated my body like a canvas - Carl Manfred would be impressed at how many different shades there were.
"You have no broken bones," a voice answered back.
I couldn't help it. I shrieked, whirling around to see the very person I'd least wanted to see. The dying light of the sun doused him in a lovely tint of gold, gilding him like some otherworldly entity.
My shirt was pulled up, exposing my bra, which was embarrassing enough. But of course, being me, I didn't just spin around, clutching at my shirt; I did a spectacular twirl, tripping over my own feet like a newborn kitten trying to walk on a smooth floor.
In one unfaltering motion, Connor snatched my free hand and tugged me toward him. I collapsed into his chest with a muffled 'oof', the force of his pull causing my weight to lean into him so hard I lost my footing again. His hands pressed into my back to keep me upright, hugging me flush against him.
In the span of my almost fall to the ground and then the next into his chest, I'd somehow curled my fists into his dress shirt beneath his suit jacket, pinning me to him like a butterfly to a corkboard as I fought to regain equilibrium.
My breaths were ragged, thankfully obscured somewhat by his shirt, which clouded back into my face and heated it. I could feel my pulse pounding so hard I could hear it, and it only increased in tempo as I realized that Connor could hear it too.
I was so embarrassed, so afraid to see his face, that I froze completely and clung to him as if he were my anchor. Why was he still here? What was happening? Had he been here all night? Do I move away, or do I just stay here like an idiot until he makes the first move? Oh my God, my makeup was going to ruin his shirt.
His hands twitched against my back, and his voice sounded strained. "Officer? Are you alright?"
My mouth was dry; my tongue felt like a lead weight.
Slowly, his hands slid down to my waist as he extricated himself from me. His grip switched to support me by my upper arms instead, and I found myself unable to look at him. I stared at his chest instead, mortification rooting me to the floor.
"Your heart rate is very high. Did you sleep at all last night?"
It was like I had marbles in my mouth for all the sense I made as I tried to say, "Yes, I slept well."
Somehow, he understood me. "I'm glad to hear that. Your body has been operating under a severe lack of sleep these past few days. You've also been pushing yourself too hard at work. You're at your limit."
"I'm alright." I laughed shakily, internally shattering into a million pieces at my inability to function like a normal human being in front of him. "Did you stay here last night?"
He inclined his head. "You were hurt very badly, I had to make sure you were alright. Or in case you needed anything, so I could assist you."
"Thank you," I tripped over my words, "for last night. How did you know where I was, though?"
"You seemed determined to come to work yesterday, so I decided to check up on you."
Right - because Hank had worried the Eden Club scene would be too much for me to handle. No, scratch that. Hadn't he said Connor had been worried about me the second they'd gotten the call? That's when something clicked into place. "Wait, so when I was texting Hank, that was you?"
How are you? Did you sleep well? - of course Hank hadn't sent that. I should've guessed straight away.
"He tends to leave his phone lying around. Quite careless, if I may say so." A flutter of giddiness tickled my heart and I meant to swat it away when he continued, "Hank went to Jimmy's after handing in his report, while I went to your apartment. You weren't home and on my way back, a deviant ran into me. I probed his memory, because he looked suspicious."
I frowned. He'd decided to not capture him immediately? Why not? Why bother trying to understand what the deviant had done, and not just arrest him?
His fingers constricted ever so slightly around my shoulders. "And that's when I saw what he'd done." It happened so fast, I was certain it was a trick of the light. His LED glowed yellow, and then it was straight back to blue. Something in Connor changed, so minute I couldn't say what, but it had happened nonetheless. I waited with bated breath for his next words.
"Your sister seemed to mistake me for someone else." Not what I had expected, but alright. What had I been expecting him to say, though? Chris was right. The Thirst was strong with this one, indeed.
"Who?" I couldn't imagine her thinking he could resemble anyone she'd seen before. There was simply no comparison.
There was a shift in his gaze, and I nearly failed to recognize the sheen of amusement glittering in them. "Your boyfriend."
"I - I don't - I mean, I'm not dating anyone," I protested. "Wow, why would she say that?"
"I don't know, Officer." He tilted his head to the side and the corner of his mouth quirked up. "She said that after I gave her my name. It seems she knew about me."
I made to pull out of his grip but he stepped closer, and pure panic took over. "You know how sisters are, always making up little fantasies and stuff. God, she seems to think every guy I'm friends with is my future husband, or something. Isn't that cute? She probably just said that because she thinks you're good looking - she does that a lot. Really likes pretty people, you know."
Shut up, what the fuck are you doing?
Connor's mouth twitched, and I realized he was stifling a laugh. Something I'd never seen before; I wasn't even aware he could laugh. I wanted to see it, but this situation wasn't the best timing. I was sweating so much I was sure my underarms had a disgustingly embarrassing sweat ring. I self-consciously clamped my arms against my sides, like a bird folding its wings.
"Because I'm good looking?" He seemed to take delight in the idea, his words a soft purr. A shudder licked along my spine. "Hank said I looked funny and had a strange voice; I was worried CyberLife had made an error in their design. Do you agree with him?"
My mouth opened in astonishment. He was enjoying this.
Connor moved in until I couldn't escape his gaze. My breath hitched. "Well? I'm afraid it's quite an important question. CyberLife uses their data to perfect their models, after all."
I squirmed. If I said yes, I was damning myself. If I said no, he'd know I was lying. No way out.
"You don't have to ask me, you already know," I mumbled, hating the way my voice strained over the words.
His own dipped low, teasing. "I'm afraid I can't read minds, Officer. Please...your opinion is invaluable."
"You're not bad looking," I muttered reluctantly, my cheeks heating up. "I mean, you're not ugly. You're not. That is-"
I dared to peek up at him to see a dangerous grin curling his lips. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're trying to say."
"You're insufferable," I spluttered, wringing my hands together as I tried to formulate a way out of this mess.
"It's but a question."
I was never going to get out of this. "I have work. We'll be late-"
"Officer, the day is over. Hank and Captain Fowler excused you from today."
"What?" I cried. "How long was I out for?"
He threw me a pointed look. "After you answer my question."
I sucked in a breath and muttered, "What options does the poll have?"
His tone was sultry, dulcet. "There are none. Your response is saved as is."
You're the most beautiful human being I've ever laid eyes on and your voice makes me melt.
I opened my mouth, ready to retort with something to play with him instead, when there was a beep from behind us and the door opened.
"Jesus, it's like everyone in Detroit decided they needed a new phone. You're getting the next item, got it?" Hank shut the door shut behind him with a sigh, and then drew to a complete halt as he took in our position.
Connor, his hands clamped around my upper arms and his height stretching over me, didn't seem too strange at first. After all, it felt as though he were just trying to hold me up, since I'd fallen. Then I tipped my head back and realized that Hank was oddly tilted to one side. I gasped; the countertop was digging into my the small of my back and Connor was but a few inches apart from me, breath hot on my mouth.
I shoved him away, the abruptness of my action startling him into letting go of me, and made to straighten my clothes out, painfully aware of the sweat staining my underarms through my cotton shirt. Unable to get out a word, I ducked my head and slammed my bedroom door behind me, sinking against it as I sucked in air.
I pressed a hand over my chest for a second before retrieving a new shirt and changing into it.
Through my door, Hank was saying to Connor, "I'd appreciate a warning before I walk in on that sorta shit, got it? Do you even know what it means to pin someone down?"
"To arrest them?"
Hank's snort was sharp. "Jesus, you're gonna give her a heart attack."
"Her heart rate was rather high. Do you suppose that was my fault?"
I didn't want Hank reaffirming anything for him so before he could answer, I burst out of my room, slamming the door into the frame with a deafening bang.
That definitely shut him up, but it also turned the spotlight onto me. I couldn't bring myself to glance over at Connor, so I stared down at my socked feet.
Hank slapped a box onto my countertop and said, "Merry fuckin' Christmas."
It was a brand new phone, to replace the one I'd destroyed.
"Oh fuck," I said. Now I owed him.
AN: As always a HUGE thank you to my beta and my amazing readers! Sage, your comments have really motivated me to keep making this the best I can^^ Thank you! I hope you enjoyed our reader's realization this chapter. I can't wait to show you how everything develops from here on out. It's time for things to get a little crazy, a little dangerous, and a little sexy ;)