“Wow, thank you for everything… What was your name again?”
“John.” His turquoise eyes flick to mine before he flashes me a smile. It’s not a big one, more of a smirk, but showing a few teeth.
I nod. “And how do you know my name?”
“I had to use your ID at the hospital.”
“Oh.” My eyes glance over at a silver badge on the dresser beside me. SMITH is clearly engraved into it. “So… your name… is John, John Smith?”
“Yeah,” he grumbles.
“Are you fucking with me?”
“What—No!”
“I mean it’s one thing to take a drunk girl home from a bar and claim you didn’t have sex, but to give her the wrong name—That’s just morally fucked up!”
“I’m not—” Before he utters another word, he whips out his wallet from his back pocket, flipping it over to show me his driver’s license. Well, I’ll be damned—John Smith. I also happen to notice the birth year; same as my brother and four years before mine.
“Sorry,” I mutter, super low. “I guess I just don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“It’s fine.” His voice is harsher, like he closed a door to something that was open a minute ago. I didn’t realize my opportunity when I had it. He’s back to using his hard bouncer tone.
There’s this awkwardness between us now. “Um… I guess I should get going, then.”
“You can relax. I have to get ready for my shift. The school is on the way; I’ll drop you off on my way into the station.”
“How do you—Right, my ID.”
“Actually, I found your school ID in there too. Are you on campus?”
I nod. “Did you call my parents?” The realization finally hits me.
He takes a minute, his eyes exploring mine before he responds. “No.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He turns and heads into the bathroom, but not before stealing one last glance at me. The bathroom door clicks shut before I place the smoothie on the nightstand. I take the liberty to slip out of the bed and look around. My head aches at first, but after a few steps forward, it calms to an annoying pulse. The room is a blue so light; it can be mistaken for white.
There is nothing on the walls but a corkboard with newspaper clippings pinned to it. My feet take me to it. Several clippings refer to various local events. ‘Mysterious Disappearances Continue,’ ‘Fifty People Confirmed Missing,’ and another, ‘Local Coffeehouse Closes Without Warning.’
Below it, sits a desk with papers scattered over it. That’s the only thing out of place because the rest of the room is neat. Even his clothes are neatly pressed, not even a shirt hanging out of a drawer. His closet is slightly open and everything is on hangers facing the same way and sorted by color. The nightstand drawer slides open with barely a creak, but I have to cover my mouth when I see what’s inside—A huge, industrial size box of condoms, some lube, and a pair of handcuffs. Oh my. I start to giggle.
“What is so funny?” John is standing there in a towel with water glistening off his shoulder blades, where he forgot to towel off. His dark hair is slicked back and his turquoise eyes finally notice the open drawer. “Going through my things already?” It only takes him a few steps before he closes the drawer in front of me. His hair drips some water onto my lap.
“Sorry. I just—” He continues to glare at me, expecting an explanation. “I’m sorry, I can’t get over the—That’s a lot of condoms.” I burst out laughing.
His face softens into a smirk. “Safety first.”
“Indeed.” I bite my bottom lip.
“You’re in college; don’t act like you’re above it all.” He spins to pull his uniform off the back of his door. I can’t help but admire him as he slides his arms in the sleeves and buttons up his shirt. To distract myself I climb back onto the bed and lean back on his headboard, trying to steady my unstable stomach.
“Well, man-whore, with that attitude I don’t think you would believe me if I told you I don’t believe in casual sex.” My eyes are on the ceiling when his towel drops and he’s putting on his pants. It takes everything in me to keep my gaze upwards. Lord, it’s been so long.
“There’s nothing to believe in. Sex is sex. Humans have needs—Men and women. If you don’t believe in it, that’s just the nice way of saying you haven’t found someone to screw you right.”
Oh, no he didn’t. Actually, I haven’t found anyone to screw me, period. I haven’t put myself out there – at all. “I’d prefer not to be screwed, thank you very much. I want something with a connection.”
“What’s a better connection than passion?”
“Passion? Oh, is that what you get at the end of the night at the bar?”
There’s that smirk again. “Drunk passion is the best.”
“Really? When I’m drunk, all I can think about is food, not fucking.” Oh, Lord; did I really just say that?
He laughs as he straps on his gun belt. “Like I said, it’s because you’re not doing it right.” He approaches the bed, grabbing his badge off the nightstand, and clipping it to the belt.
I sit up, ignoring the pounding in my head and square off to him. “I can do it just fine, thank you very much.” He offends me. My abstinence is a choice, not because there’s anything wrong with it. “You wouldn’t understand something like monogamy or what sex is like with a connection. You just can’t go back to mediocre one night stands once you experience the real thing.”
He pauses, his eyes hard, looking into mine. I touched another button. “You’re right. I don’t know what that’s like.”
Just like that, he walks past me and out of his room, leaving me staring after him, harboring some pity for the man that saved me.
I give him a few minutes before I follow him into his living room. It has an open feel to it. The bedroom opens into the living room, and there’s an alcove I can see his kitchen through, but looks like he never uses it. The counter space is clear of any clutter. Some appliances, like the stove, still have stickers on them. To my left is a huge bay window overlooking a woodsy scene while the sun shines high in the sky. Lush green as far as the eye can see, I don’t get much of a sight like this from my dorm room. Even back in Jersey, where I’m from, it’s all towns and houses around us. This is actually somewhat peaceful.
“You ready? It’ll take us a little bit to get back to Angelica.”
“Wow, where are we?” My eyes gravitate to the window. There isn’t a house in sight.
“Just outside the city. I don’t like to live where I work—Conflict of interest.”
“I think it’s to avoid the hoes from the bar too.”
“That too,” he mutters, opening the apartment door.
“Such a shame,” I murmur under my breath as I turn away from the window and walk through the door he holds open for me.
The car ride is quiet, conversation-wise, at least. The engine of his Mustang is loud enough to keep my ears busy. I can barely focus on the music as he guns it towards town. I make it only ten minutes before the silence between us begins to bother me.
“So, when will I know the results of my lab tests?”
“Few days. Depends how busy the lab is. If it’s something illegal, they might call me beforehand.”
“Will you let me know?” My voice is small, even though I didn’t want it to come out as such.
He turns to me now. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Oh, don’t give me the overprotective cop routine. I’m a big girl.”
“Alrighty, then.” He nods, his eyes never leaving the road.
“You’ll catch those bastards, right?”
“I’m sure as hell going to try.”
“I don’t want to hear that you are going to try, John.” He turns to me at the sound of his name. “Tell me you will roast these motherfuckers.” My fist slams the palm of my other hand.
His face turns back to the road as his laughter fills my ears. “Roast the motherfuckers? And he
re I thought you were just a nerdy prude.”
“What makes me a prude? The fact that I don’t give it up to everyone who wants to buy me a drink at the bar?”
“No, it’s the fact that you crucify anyone who does.”
My mouth drops open. “Screw you.” I stare out the window. He’s such a jerk.
After a few minutes of silence he asks, “Want coffee?”
“Excuse me?”
“Coffee? You know, that thing with the beans that smells like ecstasy?”
“Um…” My stomach rumbles at the mention of it. “Yes.” My hands have already begun twitching from not having my morning coffee… or afternoon coffee. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’ll be first in line when they start injecting it intravenously.
He pulls his obnoxiously loud car into a coffee shop I don’t recognize. John is the first out of the car. I guess I’m not the only one addicted to coffee. Before I know it, John is opening the car door for me. I climb out with a weak thank you. The sun blinds me momentarily. My head begins to pound during the walk to the front door and I’m not sure if it’s from my hangover or my coffee withdrawal. He pulls open the shop door and holds it for me, once again. I steal a glance at him as I pass by and enter the café. The sweet aroma makes its way to me and I breathe it all in.
He catches me. “Tastes as good as it smells.” His voice is deep and his breath is warm on my ear, that cologne of his replacing the coffee smell surrounding us. It sends a shiver straight through me.
After he awakens every single one of my senses, he walks away, toward the counter. I watch as he approaches the barista and places an order. The navy uniform fits him well, accentuating his muscular form. There’s something sexy about a man in uniform.
My teeth bury themselves in my bottom lip. “God, I hope so.”
Officer John spins around, meeting my eyes with his blue ones. “Here you go.”
“How did you know how I like my coffee?”
“I don’t. I just figured the more the caffeine, the better at this point.”
I hide a smile with the lip of the cup. “Thank you.”
“Go grab a table.” His chin nods toward the corner.
I gesture in agreement before making my way through the other tables, to one by the window. The side of the café faces a wooded area, and the green of the leaves makes me miss being a part of the track team. There’s not exactly extra time for sports when you’re trying to get into law school. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it until this very moment. I’ve really missed running. It was always a great stress release, the way the air pumped in and out of me. I’ve even seen a change in my body since I’ve stopped. Maybe I should start making time for it again?
“How is it?” John’s smooth voice interrupts into my thoughts.
I take a sip. “Mm, delicious.”
“I brought you some sugar.” He drops various packets on the table between us.
With a shake of my head, I respond, “You don’t mess with perfection.”
“You’re a professional college student, then.” His eyebrows do this cute thing where they quirk up together when he’s telling a joke. I have to bite my lip again.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Why did you pick NCU?”
“Um…” It’s a question I’ve been asking myself forever. Truth is, I don’t know. I saw the brochure and it called to me. “The campus is small and beautiful. Something about it just told me this is where I wanted to go. Plus, the full scholarship didn’t hurt, either.”
“Ah, I see. So, you’re like a nerd?”
“If by nerd, you mean intelligent and determined, then yes – call me a nerd.”
“Okay, nerd.” He smiles against the cup as he brings it to his lips.
“You’re kind of a dick.”
Only one-eyebrow quirks up this time before he shrugs. “It comes with the territory.”
“What territory is that? Doucheville?”
“No.” He laughs. “I meant being a cop. Everyone hates you – you learn not to take crap from anyone.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me Douchistry is taught at the academy?”
“Douchbagery 101 is.” That earned me a sexy smirk. Oh Lord, his smile causes my insides to churn.
Relax, Becca, this douche does not deserve to see you squirm. That’s what I tell myself, but as I continue to look into his eyes, I see something I’m not expecting: softness. He came after and protected me last night. He brought me back to his house and took care of me. Those are not the doings of a complete tool bag. Maybe I should cut this guy some slack.
“So, where would you like me to drop you off? Do you want to pretend to do a walk of shame? We could pick up the cruiser and turn the lights on, really drum up the rumor mill.”
Maybe not.
“The walk of shame?” My face always seems to give me away. An actress I am not.
“I’m just joking with you. I thought that’s what we were doing – a little friendly banter. Down, girl.” He leans back.
“Sorry, I guess I still don’t feel well.” My fingers rub my temples.
“I understand.” He sighs, pain showing on his face. “I should be getting you home, then.”
The ride home is somewhat quiet. Actually, it is silent. The music isn’t even turned on; if it weren’t for the drum of the engine, I could have heard him breathing. He coughs a few times, like he is clearing his throat to start a conversation. He never does. He finally pulls up to the perfectly manicured North Commons drive. The car pauses at the center stop sign.
“Are you staying in the old dorms or the new?” His voice seems strange after enduring the silence for so long.
“The new ones across from the football field.”
“Gotcha.” He veers the car to the right, wrapping around the school. “Back when I came here, there were only the old dorms and Fraternity Row.”
“Yeah, my freshman year was the first year they opened these. They still smelled like paint when we moved in.”
“Does the Old Building still not have an elevator or air conditioning?”
“No. You would think with the amount of tuition we pay, that they would renovate already. I had to learn the hard way last summer.”
“You’re taking summer classes, as well?”
“Yeah, I’m trying to finish in three years.”
“Wow.” His face softens. I think that earns me some credit with him. Not like, I care what he thinks of me, or anything.
The car swings into the circular drive in front of my dorms. The outside of the brick building is bustling with people coming and going. An image pops into my mind of a girl stumbling out of a blaring cop car in front of all these people. He’s right; it might have been a little funny.
“Well, this is me.” When I turn to look at him, the car is in park and his eyes are on me. “Thank you for… well, everything.”
“It was nothing. I was just doing my job.”
“No, you weren’t – thank you.”
I unstrap my seatbelt. My hand reaches for the door handle and I climb out. For some reason I have a feeling deep down, I will never see him again. Before I shut the door, I lean in. “Do you need my number or something, for when you catch these guys?”
“Oh, yeah.” He enters his passcode and hands me his phone.
Placing my number in his contact list, I respond, “Will you actually call me?”
He takes his phone back into his hand and meets my eyes. “Yes. I’ll call you when I catch those guys.”
“Okay. You better, Officer Smith – I know where you work.”
He smiles. I finally shut the car door.
His Mustang pulls out of the parking lot and roars down the road. With a deep breath, I turn around and walk up the pathway to the dorm, still wearing last night’s jeans and blouse. I’m internally thanking myself for being the casual type and not wearing heels. My outfit can pass as fancy, day attire. Well, for those girls that try too hard. Me, on the o
ther hand? I believe I shouldn’t have to dress up to impress a guy. That’s probably why I’m single and Meggie gets all the dates. Speaking of, I hear her voice down the hall before I even make it all the way up to the third flight.
“No, I’m telling you, Troy, she didn’t come home last night—What do you mean who—Becca!”
I dash up the last few steps and zip around the corner. “That better not be who I think it is.”
Meggie is standing there in an oversize tee shirt and a man’s boxer shorts, her embarrassing bunny slippers gracing her feet. Her make-up is still vaguely visible around her eyes; lips tinted a deep shade of pink. “Never mind.” She drops the cell phone from her ear. “Becca, where the hell were you?”
“It’s a long story,” I mutter, seeing people beginning to open their doors. “Can we go inside?”
She glances around, noticing my shy expression. “There’s nothing to see here! Mind your damn business.” She waves them away and pulls me inside the dorm before slamming the door shut.
“Thanks, now everyone is going to know I stayed out last night.”
“So what?” She plops onto the couch. “It’s college, Becca – now spill the beans.”
“Ugh, I need to sit down.” I move and settle on the couch next to her.
“I woke up this morning and you weren’t in your room, and almost called the police. It’s just so unlike you.”
“Funny, I was with one last night.” I shoot her a smirk that could put John Smith’s to shame.
“You did a cop?” I think she’s actually impressed.
“No, I didn’t do anyone.”
“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “So, then what happened?”
“Apparently, it appears these two guys at the bar drugged me. He stopped them before they could leave with me.”
She leans forward. “What?”
“Yeah, he even took me to the hospital.”
“Oh my God, Bee, I had no idea! I feel so guilty – I should have stayed with you instead of—”
“Oh, yeah, what happened with Troy last night?”
She blushes. Meggie O’Malley actually blushes at the mention of a guy. Write this down in the history books. “We just kissed.”
Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) Page 3