Play It Again

by Ashley Stoyanoff

  A shrill ring echoes through the room, stopping her mid-sentence. I snatch up my phone, catching sight of Vance’s name on the screen before I hit the button, answering it tentatively. “Hello?”

  “Piper,” he says in a low voice, “something’s come up. Gonna have to postpone dinner.”

  His words slam into me, and I stiffen, turning away from Kim so she won’t see the sudden disappointment climbing up my throat. I knew it. I just knew something like this was going to happen.

  “Oh, uh ... okay, sure,” I say quietly. “No problem, maybe another time or not, whatever.”

  “Hey,” he says sharply. “What was that?”

  I freeze.

  From behind me I hear Kim shuffle a step, and then mutter something as her hand squeezes my shoulder. I shrug it off and stick a finger in my ear, ignoring her and focusing my attention on Vance.

  “What was what?” I ask hesitantly.

  “Another time or not, whatever?” he says and sighs. “Not sure what you’re thinking right now, freckles, but don’t think you can get rid of me that easy. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  I laugh nervously, not sure what to say to that. “Uh, I just ... I thought that ...” I sigh, frustrated. “Never mind.”

  “Good,” he says. “So aren’t you going to ask me what came up?”

  I stall at those words. “Uh, okay … What came up?”

  “I talked to Trixie, and I think she’s hiding Chad,” he says. “Jase and Wes are positioned by her house now, watching for him. I should be there, too, but I thought you might be up for a stakeout. I know it’s not the steak dinner I promised you, but how do you feel about hanging out with me in my truck tonight?”

  My response is immediate. “Are you kidding me? Of course I want to.”

  He lets out a light laugh, the sound making me smile. “I figured you’d be on board, but I gotta warn you, it’s gonna be a long night, and probably boring as fuck.”

  I laugh. Boring? I doubt that. I can’t imagine any time with Vance that could possibly be boring. “I’m in. When do we leave?”

  “Right now,” he says, laughing again. “I’ll be in your driveway in less than ten minutes. Be ready, yeah?”

  Less than ten minutes? Before I can respond, the line goes dead. Call disconnected. I stand there hesitating, contemplating, clutching my phone tightly.

  Holy crap. A stakeout. Right now. With Vance.

  This is ... exciting.

  I’m excited.

  “What’s going on?”

  I jump, turning to face Kim. Her brow furrows as she looks at me.

  “I forgot you were here.”

  She makes a face at me, waving a hand dramatically. “Seriously? How can you possibly forget all of this? I’m hurt. I’m totally hurt.”

  “I’m going on a stakeout with Vance,” I blurt. “He’s going to be here to pick me up in less than ten minutes.”

  “Sounds fun,” she says, laughing dryly. She regards me curiously for a moment, her eyes scanning me from head-to-toe. “Um … you might want to get dressed then, Pipes.”

  My eyes widen as I look down at the towel wrapped around my body. Less than ten minutes. That’s all I have.

  Oh, crap.

  Tearing out of the bathroom, I’m vaguely aware of Kim following, and snickering, behind me as I lunge for my closet, yanking it open. I rummage through my clothes, pulling out shirts and holding them up, only to toss them aside, searching for … I don’t even know. What do you wear for a stakeout? Comfy or sexy? Something in between?

  I don’t have a clue.

  “Skinny jeans,” Kim says as she comes up beside me and pushes me out of the way. She shifts through the hangers, pushing items aside. She knows exactly what she’s looking for, and seconds later, she tugs a pair of jeans off a hanger, turns back to me, and holds them up with a satisfied smile on her lips. “These ones.”

  My brow furrows. “Are you sure? I was thinking—”

  “I’m sure,” she says, interrupting me. “I’ve seen the way he checks out your ass when you wear skinny jeans, specifically these ones.”

  Kim shoves the dark denim pants into my hands, before diving back into the closet, pulling out a basic white ribbed tank top, and tosses it at me.

  I catch it, scrunching my nose as I hold it up. “A tank?”

  Kim laughs, elbowing me playfully. “Trust me, will you? I know my cousin. Simple is sexy and besides,” she shrugs, “you’re going to be stuck in a truck all night. Comfy is good, too.”

  “Right,” I say. “Skinny jeans and a tank it is.”

  Tossing the clothes onto the bed, I start for my dresser, and then stall, as the house alarm lets off a string of beeps instigated by the motion detectors, and then Jimmy shouts, “Pipes, Vance is here!”

  “No, no, no,” I chant, rushing over to my dresser, and tugging open the top drawer.

  There’s no way it’s been ten minutes.

  Kim laughs, casting me an amused look as she walks past me, heading for the door. “Get dressed. I’ll stall him.”

  I mumble a thanks that I’m certain she doesn’t hear as she closes the door behind her. Dropping my towel, I quickly slip on a pair of lime green lace panties and matching bra, and then I rush back over to my bed and wiggle into my pants, zipping and buttoning.

  I tug on my tank as I move into the bathroom, taking a deep breath before diving into my make-up bag, shifting through the minimal contents. I’ve never been one to wear a lot of make-up, usually just a touch of blush and gloss, maybe some eyeliner and mascara when I’m feeling daring, but today, I wish I had some foundation. The bruising running from my cheekbone up into my hairline is turning that nasty greenish-yellow, and some cover-up would do wonders for it.

  I swipe on some gloss, and spritz on some coconut body spray, before running my hands through my hair, fluffing it up. It’s still a little damp, but it’ll have to do, because I’m officially out of time.

  Heading back into my room, I grab my things, stuffing my cell phone into my purse, and nearly sprint out of the room, jogging down the hallway. My footsteps falter as I round the corner into the empty living room, and I pause completely when my eyes come in contact with Vance through the window.

  He’s outside, leaning against Kim’s car, one arm propped on the roof as he talks with her and Jimmy through the open window. He’s wearing his usual uniform of jeans and a tee, laughing at something Kim is saying.

  Jesus, he looks good.

  He always looks so good.

  My heart stalls a beat at the sight of his grin, before kicking into high gear as the butterflies in my belly try to take flight. My feet start to move again, though slower this time, as I step toward the door, setting the alarm to away as I pass the panel, and quickly lock up.

  Vance pushes off the car, moving a few steps in my direction, as I step away from the door, his eyes flicking over me.

  “Hey.” I lift my hand, offering a little wave as I cross the driveway. “Sorry for the wait.”

  He smirks, but remains quiet for a moment, staring at me with an intensity that makes my cheeks blush and my knees weak as I walk toward him, before he finally lifts his chin and says, “Hey, Piper. You ready to go?”

  “I, uh, I … I guess so,” I stammer foolishly, blushing again and feeling all flustered by his intense gaze, as I stop in front of him.

  He chuckles under his breath, his eyes scanning me over once more, and he leans over, placing a quick but firm kiss on my lips.

  I gasp, startled by the unexpected kiss, blinking up at him as he pulls away. I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to this … this …

  Ugh. I don’t even know what this is.

  I don’t know what we are.

  I don’t know what he’s doing or what he’s looking for.

  But he does this a lot, kisses me whenever he feels like it, and each time it feels new, feels different.

  And each time, no matter how quick or intense, it’s a shock to my sy
stem, making my heart thrum and my knees weak.

  He chuckles at me, before saying a quick goodbye to Kim and Jimmy, and then he strolls over to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door for me.

  “Wow,” Kim whispers, gaping. “When the hell did he become a gentleman?”

  I let out a sharp bark of laughter, shrugging a shoulder as I whisper, “I don’t have a clue, but I’m not going to complain.”

  Starting up her car, Kim shakes her head, staring at her cousin as he stares at me, waiting for me to get in. “This is just … odd,” she says, putting the car in gear.

  Jimmy laughs, patting her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Kimmy. One day you’ll have your very own badass opening doors for you, too.”

  Kim rolls her eyes, and I laugh.

  Vance watches me curiously as I turn away from Kim, still laughing. He cocks a questioning brow as I hop into the truck, though he doesn’t ask, shutting my door and walking around to the driver’s side to get in.

  Starting up the truck, he stalls for a moment looking at me, his hand on the gear shift.

  “What do you feel like for supper? It’s gotta be something quick, though, something we can take with us.”

  “Anything,” I say. “I’m game for whatever you feel like.”

  He lets out a laugh, the sound easing some of my nerves, as he puts the truck in reverse and backs onto the street. “Pita Den.”

  “Ooo, I love that place.”

  He cuts his eyes to me, his dark ones twinkling with mirth. “I know,” he says. “Chicken Cesar pita, half dressing on whole wheat.”

  “How did you …” I start, and then stall, shaking my head. “Jesus, did Kim keep anything a secret from you?”

  He laughs. “Not likely.”

  “I’m definitely going to reconsider my choice in best friends when I get home,” I mutter, leaning back in the seat, scowling.

  Vance snorts, shaking his head, amused. He says nothing about my comment, though, not that he has to. The smirk says more than enough.

  He thinks I’m full of shit.

  He’s not wrong.

  Kim may not be the best at keeping secrets, but she’s there when it counts, and really, that’s all that matters.

  “You get caught up with work?” he asks after a moment, cutting his eyes to me briefly, before focusing back on the road.

  “Almost,” I say. “I sent off the last draft today. Once it’s approved I just need to make a few tweaks and send the final files.”

  He nods, hesitating as he quickly glances over at me again. “Elena’s gonna be home on Saturday and we’re planning a barbeque for her, nothing big, just a little welcome home kind of thing with the guys. You should come.”

  He wants me to go to Elena’s welcome home barbeque?

  “I … I don’t know,” I say hesitantly. “I don’t even know her. She probably doesn’t want some stranger hanging around when she hasn’t seen you guys in weeks.”

  “Nonsense,” he says. “She’ll love having you there.”

  He says it so confidently that I can’t think of a reason not to, so I shrug. “Okay, sounds fun.”

  It takes ten minutes to get to Pita Den. I wait in the truck as Vance runs in to grab our food. It doesn’t take him long, less than five minutes, before he’s back in the truck, and we’re on the road again.

  As we drive, Vance fills me in on his entirely unhelpful meeting with Trixie Starr.

  She’s a nurse.

  He’s pretty sure she knows who I am, though I don’t have a clue how.

  She’s not giving up anything on her man.

  As far as leads go, she seems like a dead end to me, but Vance is confident that Chad Miller is hanging around, most likely staying at her place, hence the stakeout.

  We end up at a park, across the street and down a little from Trixie’s house. From our vantage point, we can see the front of the house clearly, as well as Jase, who’s parked at the curb a block and a half down. I can’t see Wes from our spot, but we passed him on a side street on our way into the park, keeping an eye on the back of the house.

  “What happens now?” I ask, settling my pita on my knees and unwrapping it.

  Vance glances at me, amusement flashing in his eyes. “We wait.”

  I thought he’d been joking.

  I was hoping he was joking.

  I thought maybe there’d be gadgets to play with, cool spy equipment to test out. But as I sit in the truck, fiddling with the radio, I realize he meant it. All we can do now is wait.

  Hours pass. Long hours of nothing.

  The sun sets, and the house we’re watching stays quiet. No one comes in or out. No one turns on a light or passes by a window.

  Vance and I talk and talk and talk, about nothing and everything. Parents: his are still around, living in Florida. Siblings: he doesn’t have any. Favorite food: anything barbequed. We hit topic after topic, and not unexpected, he already knows most of my answers, and I only manage to surprise him once when I confess that I’ve never eaten fish because I don’t like the way it smells.

  Jase and Wes send periodic text messages. Updates, I guess, though there really hasn’t been anything to update—yet.

  But overall, this whole stakeout thing is somewhat … boring. I guess he meant that, too, when he said it.

  Sighing, I stretch in my seat, turning to face him. “What exactly is your plan, you know, if we see him?”

  Vance cocks an eyebrow at me. “You don’t already know?”

  “No. I mean, I can guess, but I don’t really know, you know?”

  He chuckles and leans back in the seat, resting his head on the headrest. “Let’s hear your guess.”

  “Um …” I smile bashfully, fluttering my lashes. “You’ll use your badassness to scare him into leaving me alone and maybe, hopefully pay for all the damages?”

  He lets out a loud laugh and my eyes narrow slightly.

  “You think my badassness is scary?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I say, cutting him an incredulous look. “And so did that guy at the apartment the day Kim and I moved in.”

  “He was an asshole,” he mutters. “A punk with no goddamn respect, and if I recall correctly, it was him grabbing a handful of your ass that started the whole thing.”

  I grimace. He’s right. I was carrying a large vase, one my mother made before she died, struggling with the lobby door, when some guy came up behind me. He smacked my ass as he all but shoved me out of the way, and I dropped the vase, shattering it.

  Of course, Vance saw the whole thing.

  He’d just pulled up and gotten out of his truck when I shrieked out my surprise, and I swear it took only seconds—mere seconds—for him to have the guy, who wasn’t small by any means, spewing out apology after apology.

  It was at that moment, I dubbed Vance badass hottie, and five minutes later, I found out he was Kim’s cousin.

  “Fine, you’re not going to use your badassness,” I say. “So what’s the real plan then?”

  “We’re gonna ask him a few questions,” he says, pausing as he chuckles again. “Then we’ll turn him over to Cruz.”

  I stare at him for a moment, blinking a few times.

  “Huh,” I say. “I suppose that could work, too.”

  Vance chuckles and I roll my eyes, leaning forward once again to fiddle with the radio, flipping through the stations. I switch through them all once, twice, three times, before a familiar song hits my ears, causing me to laugh.

  It’s that song.

  The one from the bar.

  The one Vance watched me dance to.

  Instinctively, I start to move in my seat, wiggling my hips against the leather, bobbing my head with the beat.

  Glancing at Vance, I laugh a little as I see the recognition flare behind his eyes. He reaches over, turning it up, his gaze glued to me.

  I’m smiling.

  I’m singing.

  I’m moving to the beat.

  I’m having fun.

  He w
atches me intently, smirking, and I feel my entire body heat under his gaze. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing to me as his gaze rakes over me, dropping to my mouth, staring at my lips as though the thought of kissing me suddenly consumes him.

  And then the song ends, and his mouth kicks up in a sexy one-sided grin. “Fuck, I love watching you do that,” he mutters, licking his lips. “Gotta download that song so I can play it again and again and again.”

  I grin, shaking my head. “Already done. I’ve got it on my phone.”

  My response makes him laugh. He leans into me, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but he pauses mere inches from my mouth, and whispers, “Good to know.”

  I don’t know whether to laugh, or growl in frustration. I start to tilt toward him, wanting that darn kiss, when I stall, a movement in my peripheral vision catching my attention.

  “Vance?” I whisper, licking my suddenly dry lips.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is that him?” I ask, pulling back abruptly. “Jesus, I think it is. He’s actually here.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Vance

  In hindsight, bringing Piper along on a stakeout may not have been the best idea.

  I’m trying to pay attention to everything going on around us, to stay vigilant and spot the asshole, and nab him before he can do any more damage, but the girl sitting beside me keeps distracting me. A light touch, a smile, a laugh; it’s all a distraction.

  A fucking incredible distraction.

  From my seat in the truck, I can see three blocks down in both directions and most of the park around us. It’s a few minutes after eleven o’clock, and most of the houses are already dark. The street itself is bathed in a muted glow from the streetlights.

  Piper’s abandoned her spot, pressed up against the center console leaning toward me, to hover at the far side of the truck, staring out the window and pointing into the darkness.

  Following her outstretched finger, every muscle seizes in my body the moment I spot Chad Miller. There he is, moving through the park toward us, ducking in and out of the shadows.