“Because you pulled your gun on him when he walked into my office!” I slap my forehead. “And I don’t care if it was your Taser. Bursting in unannounced is not an acceptable excuse!”
“I thought we were alone,” Drake bites out. “You didn’t tell me he was still there.”
“Well, excuse me. Next time, I’ll make sure to keep a fucking sign-in sheet on the door for you!”
“This conversation isn’t getting us anywhere.” He rubs his forehead. “Will you please ask Carlton to get us any information on Lilly? We’re running out of manpower, and I don’t want to bring Messina and his cronies in Austin much further into this if I don’t have to.”
“Do you really hate him that much that you’re not willing to let him help?” My eyebrows shoot up. “What did he ever do to you?”
“It doesn’t matter. Did you drive here?”
“No. I flew.”
“You’re pissing me off, Noelle.”
“Then I need to up my game, because you already pissed me off.” Then, in a fabulously adult move, I poke my tongue out at him and flounce off in the direction of my car.
I expect him to curse. I expect him to yell. I expect him to yell a curse, actually. But he doesn’t.
He laughs.
One great, big, stomach-fluttering, skin-tingling, heart-thumping laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” I stop and turn. “You are, aren’t you? You’re laughing at me.”
He keeps laughing. Keeps letting those chuckles roll until he has to press his hand flat against his stomach and force a deep breath.
I want to punch him.
“Why are you laughing at me?”
He looks up, his long, dark lashes perfectly framing his light eyes. “Did you seriously just poke your tongue out at me?”
“Um, yes.”
He fights another round of laughter. “Okay. I’m gonna bite. What did I do so badly to piss you off?”
“You are kidding, right?”
“Do I sound like it?”
He’s kidding. He has to be kidding.
“You haven’t spoken to me for twenty-four hours!” I shout.
He stills, sobering. “Seriously? That’s why your thong is so far up your ass it’s passing through your intestine?”
“My thong is not up my ass!”
His eyebrows shoot up.
Okay. That was a stupid statement.
“It’s not that far,” I argue. “It’s exactly where it’s supposed to be. Right between the cheeks but outside of my…well, asshole.”
Drake smirks, the smooth movement drawing my eyes to his mouth. He has a lovely mouth.
Oh, fuck me. This was easier when I hated him. So much easier.
“Come here,” he says, crooking his finger.
I fold my arms defiantly.
“Noelle… Please come here.”
His soft tone obviously melts a bit of my bitchiness, because I drop my arms with a dramatic sigh and walk to him. He grabs my arm and pushes me against the truck, moving to stand in front of me.
I hate it when he does this. He traps me so I can’t possibly run away from him.
“We need to talk.”
I also really hate it when he says that. But he’s right. And I am trying to work on the discussion thing.
Wouldn’t relationships be so much easier if they were just sex and snuggles? This talking thing is a pain in my ass.
“Yesterday,” I say softly, feeling the hurt creep back in. “When you spoke to me like crap. You…” I swallow. “Know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid.”
He gently clasps my chin and tilts it up. “Noelle, it’s never stupid. A hell of a lot of things with you are, but I know you well enough that I’ve done something really wrong. How is it gonna be better if you don’t tell me about it?”
“Fine. You didn’t apologize.”
“I texted you earlier.”
I shake my head. “No, you didn’t.”
He frowns. “Of course. I was writing it and then Jessica came in and I never sent it.” He sighs.
I do my best to ignore the bristle of annoyance at that admission. “Jessica? Nice to know my apology was set aside for your ex.”
“Oh, stop it. She’s still trying to get dinner out of me. I told her she’ll have to wait until hell freezes over.” His lips move into a half smile, and against my desire, mine do, too. “I’m sorry. This case is real stressful. Brook Meyers was a huge pain in my ass yesterday, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Damn right you shouldn’t have! Next time, I will remove your balls from your body.”
He smiles wider and leans in. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, sweetheart. If I buy you cupcakes every day for a week, can we be friends again?”
“Just friends? Buy me that many and I’ll climb you like a tree.”
He pauses, pulls back, then laughs again. I’m just about to ask him why that was so funny when he silences his own amusement with a touch of his lips to mine.
I sigh into the kiss.
I didn’t realize I needed it.
When he pulls back, I tug my lower lip into my mouth and sigh as it hits me. If Lilly Paul’s disappearance isn’t her running away again, my theory from earlier today could be very right.
“I need to tell you something.”
It didn’t go down well.
In fact, that’s an understatement. It went down like an uncontrolled demolition. I seem to be the only one working this case who’s thought about the real parts of research and gone actively looking for information.
It’s ridiculous. Clearly, belief is at the center of this case, so why aren’t they looking into it? Because they’re fussing over DNA and an eighteen-year-old kid who had sex with someone under the age of consent. The chances of them even getting a conviction for Brook Meyers is minimal and they know it.
But no. They can focus on that, and then the great Holly Woods Police Department is surprised when I throw a curveball like the fact that we could end up with nine victims.
After spending two hours recounting everything Alex told me and finally writing it all down—after, of course, being amazed at how much I could remember—I was allowed to leave.
Thankfully, Bek made it to the store for me, correctly assuming that I wouldn’t have anything and wouldn’t get to go there.
Also: I don’t like to shop on Saturdays. Unless it’s online.
“Another?” Bek asks, holding her phone up and waving it.
Amelia nods through giggles.
“Okay. Hang on.” She swipes the screen, pausing to sip her wine, and almost chokes. “This one: ‘Are you Irish? ’Cause my penis is Dublin.’”
I bite down on my finger, fighting the inevitable eruption of laughter. “Seriously?”
She nods. “Another: ‘Are your legs made of Nutella? I’d love to spread them.’ My legs aren’t even in the profile picture!”
Alison shakes her head. “Why do you stay on Tinder? You know they’re all guys with egos bigger than their equipment.”
“Because I’m deluded? Bored? Lonely?”
“Orgasm deprived,” I offer helpfully, finishing the last of my drink and reaching for the jug. “If you can wait until your birthday next month, I’ll clear that up for you.”
Bek slowly turns to me, intrigue written all over her face. “You will, huh? Have I ever told you I don’t swing that way?”
I put the margarita jug down and throw a chip at her. “I’ll swing you into a wall.”
“Oooh, feisty.”
I roll my eyes. “What other lines are there? You have to have more.”
“They’re all so baaad,” she moans.
Amelia reaches over and snatches her phone, grinning, then scrolls. “Ha!” she shrieks, clapping her hand over her mouth. “‘Girl, are you a witch? ’Cause you’ve got me spellbound.’” She looks up from the phone, her eyes coasting over us all with a smile teasing her lips. “The best part is the response.”
“Oh no,” Bek whispers.
“‘AbracaNO,’ followed up by a ‘Bibbidy bobbity bullshit.’”
Bek groans and covers her face with her hands.