“Seriously,” he agreed, and kissed her again. “Lots of points?”
“Tons.”
“Do I get a free level?”
“You one-upped the last player-um,” she stopped herself, and blushed. “Sorry. Not bringing that up.”
“Too late,” Jason said, unperturbed. “Now I know you’ve made out with other guys. I’m gonna have to blog about that.” Amber rolled her eyes and accepted his next kiss without objection. “That’s all that stuff nobody’s supposed to talk about on a first or second date but you know everyone actually does, right?”
“Pretty much,” Amber said. Her fingers played with the collar of his shirt. “I’m not… ugh!” she grumbled and grinned in spite of herself. It was dangerous territory, but she was already here. The best she could do was run with it. Use what you know, Colleen had advised. Use the truth when you can. It’s easier to remember.
“I’ve dated mostly Type-A overachiever guys,” she explained. “Figured, ‘Hey, I’m running with this crowd, no reason for me to settle for an average guy.’ Shoe-ins for six-figure incomes, smart, good-looking… trouble is, they all know it. And they get used to it. Used to winning. The last guy… well, I don’t wanna talk about the last guy, but the guy before him was his prep school valedictorian. And a star athlete. The whole deal.
“Pretty soon you realize there isn’t a whole lot of room for you in the car when you’ve gotta squeeze into the shotgun seat with your boyfriend’s ego,” she mused. “Trophy girlfriends aren’t always just smiles and a nice figure. Sometimes they’re like me. Doesn’t mean they’re aren’t trophies.”
She looked up at Jason, still enjoying the fingers in her hair. “You didn’t let me win at all those games. But you didn’t freak out when I beat you.”
“Uh… they’re just games,” Jason shrugged.
“You’d be surprised. It’s not like that ever ended a relationship for me, but I can tell when it bothers a guy. You weren’t bothered.”
“I’ve got things I’m good at. You’ve got things you’re good at. Maybe you’re better than me at some of my talents. Maybe not. What’s the big deal?”
“That’s not something I’m used to. Not in anyone I find attractive.”
“See, I knew there was a reason you wanted to hang out with me.”
“Yes. Dork. I wouldn’t be here on your futon otherwise. You aren’t average,” she said. “I’ve seen plenty of evidence to indicate otherwise.”
“You’re incredible.”
“Don’t-don’t rush into anything,” Amber cautioned him, placing her hand upon his chest without pushing him away. “I mean it.”
“I’m trying to go slow,” he assured her, and leaned in to kiss her again.
Once more, she allowed it. She kept allowing things. Kept justifying it all to herself. She had a job here, and things to be suspicious about… but he also seemed like such a genuinely great guy. Young for her, but special. Real. His easy smile, his lips, and his pressure-free way of drawing down her defenses muted the alarm bells that rang in her head.
She felt things click with Jason from the beginning. It was why she tried to take up the conversation with her boss this morning. She expected to be told to stick to the usual restrictions, and that would help her cool it. Conversely, had Hauser explicitly told her to take this approach, she’d have told him to go to hell, task force be damned… yet he gave only ambiguous bullshit, and left her to her own judgment.
Amber wouldn’t make out with a guy on a couch unless she wanted to make out with him. Nothing else could justify this, and she knew it.
Her hand on Jason’s chest fell away, hanging over the edge of the futon. For no reason at all, it swept underneath the frame and thunked into flat metal. “Hm.”
“What?” he murmured.
It was hard to talk while they chewed on one another’s lips, but she managed. “What’s this?” she grinned.
“Um. Shoot. So I don’t want to freak you out, but that’s a gun case.”
Her interest rose immediately. “Why would that freak me out?”
“Oh, you know. Some people just don’t ever wanna be in a house with guns.”
“Why do you have so many guns you need a case?”
“One’s enough to need a case,” he shrugged. “I’m safe. They’re not loaded.”
She grinned a little. “Show me.”
“I wanna point out that I’m the guy and you’re the girl and yet you’re the one who wants to stop with the romantic make-out so you can look at my guns.”
“I’m curious!” she protested. “Show me. What, you don’t trust me?” She regretted it as soon as she said it. She felt even guiltier when it worked.
“Nah, it’s cool, we’re good,” he said, rolling off her to slide the case out. “This stupid case didn’t fit on any of the closet shelves, so it had to go out here.”
Amber watched Jason roll in the combination and pop the locks. He opened up the lid to reveal a shotgun and pistol, along with a couple of boxes of bullets. A small cut-out space in the foam lining held some other loose bullets.
“So that’s a 12-gauge, and that’s a Beretta.”
“Ninety-two, yeah,” Amber murmured.
Jason blinked. “Uh. You know guns?”
She realized her flub and looked up at him with a bit of a shrug. She thought fast. “Dad liked guns. I liked knowing boy stuff. I’ve gone to the range a few times.”
“Huh.”
“Hey, why do some of your bullets have these red rings on them?” she asked, picking one up from the small compartment.
“Uh,” Jason blinked, “no reason? Not that I know.”
She let the lie slide. “I’m keeping your bullet,” she announced, forcing a smile as she stuffed it in her pocket.
“That’s… okay?” Jason frowned.
She matched his expression. “Something to bring back next time. The clock over there says I gotta get going,” she said, gesturing over his shoulder. “Stuff to do before school tomorrow.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you here too long.”
She smiled at him. “I don’t mind. I’d stay longer if I could. Like I said, I’ll be back. I have to return things now.”
His head twitched slightly. “You realize that’s a live bullet, right?”
“I’ll be careful with it,” she nodded.
He shrugged and closed up his gun case. “Lemme grab my jacket.”
Amber kept her hand in her pocket, reminding herself that the bullet didn’t match either gun in the case… and that Jason, for all his good vibes and warm, easy manner, clearly had a lot to hide.
Then again, Amber had just let her undercover behavior with a person of interest get romantic. She couldn’t even begin to come up with a way to tell her team about that. Jason and his friends knew things they simply couldn’t begin to explain to others. Amber knew the feeling.
Chapter Five: Freaks Have More Fun
Everything aligned with his careful research. The boots fit. The black pants worked. The navy blue v-neck t-shirt matched several episodes. Most importantly, the leather coat was perfect-not cheap by his personal standards, but perfect. He’d get plenty of use out of it after tonight, though. He could wear that jacket every day and feel like a cheerful, goofy bad ass. It was pretty much all he’d ever wanted to be when he grew up.
Alex stood in his faded blue bathrobe looking over his costume pieces on the bed-all of it ordinary street clothes, but anyone who dug good sci-fi would recognize the ensemble immediately-and couldn’t get the smile off his face. As a small child, Halloween bothered him. He didn’t care for skeletons and ghosts and spiders. He didn’t like being scared by monsters. He certainly didn’t like demons.
Then he grew up and found a demon that he liked more than just about anyone else in the world.
“You’re sure about this?” asked Lorelei, leaning on the doorframe in a purple silk robe. She could make even the hair clippers in her hand work as an accessory. “I cannot make your hair grow back if you change your mind. My magic has limits.”