“Kind of a tradition,” he says. In the center of his badge is the number 14. I place my lips over it, knowing there’s some significance to it. “Told you my family have been serving the city since the department was formed. Fourteen originally belonged to an uncle about six generations back. When we retire, we can pass our number down to a family member on the job or give it up entirely. We can also ask that it be retired. We’ve made a tradition to keep our badge numbers in the family. When I retire, I’ll give my badge to the next Hayes in line. That’s how we all have such low numbers.”
“I was wondering how Jack got such a low number—8—of all things,” I say absently.
“The privilege of the first-born. That asshole inherited the Eight from my father and his father before him.
“Now, I have my Lulu naked in the shower—I’m sure we can find something better to do than to talk about my brother.”
“I think you’re right,” I say as I slide down his body and prop myself up on my knees. I run my hands up and down his thighs, teasing him, knowing what he really wants, before finally giving it to him.
Chapter 21
Melanie
Days later
“Hennessey, you’ve been a bad boy,” I mutter and press on the little red minus sign on the touch screen thus removing REBECCA-ORANGE from his contacts list. Hennessey isn’t my boyfriend, but that isn’t stopping me from literally erasing all inappropriate vaginas from his life. I wasn’t always like this—this bold and daring chick who steals her boyfriend’s brother’s mobile and erases his digital “little black book.” This is what Hennessey asked for. I’m calling it “Don’t Be a Douche” camp. I just hope it’s enough to keep him from being too pissed when he realizes more than half his numbers are gone.
“Did you just delete one of his contacts?” Royal, who is the absolute coolest brother-betrayer on the planet, asks in horror. Royal and I are already close, but unbreakable bonds tend to form over treachery and theft. And shoes. We’ve totally bonded over shoes. Well, it’s not really theft if we give the phone back. Either way, she’s the bomb for snagging H’s phone and handing it over to me. You know a guy is a dog when even his sister is selling him out. She doesn’t even know what he’s asked of me. All I had to do was ask for it and say it was important, and my bestie the klepto was on top of it. When Jameson and I have kids, she so gets to be godmother to our firstborn.
I try not to meet her eyes, though. I mean, what am I supposed to say? Yes, I abso-fucking-lutely did delete a contact. No, that won’t work. I’ve never been that much of a fan of honesty when it’s going to get me in trouble, if I’m being honest. I don’t want to lose my shoe-shopping buddy, so I keep mum about it.
“This was a bad idea,” she hisses and leans in to peek over my shoulder. Yeah, it was a bad idea. But it was my idea, so of course it was bad. Needless to say, I’m not feeling real terrible about it. He really should know that old saying “be careful what you wish for” is serious business. “He’s going to kill me.”
“Girl, you’re golden.” I muster the courage to meet her eyes and give her a confident grin. It’s not enough to coax the disapproval off her face. We haven’t hung out lately, and I know she feels a bit abandoned. “This is on me, not you.”
“Have you ever seen H get mad?” she asks. She props her hands on her hips. She’s wearing flats under her dress blues, and I’m wearing heels, so for once we’re eye to eye. Royal’s striking blue eyes fixate on mine, and she’s squinting in a way that brings out the angry, and I’ll admit it’s kind of intimidating. “Really, he’s an asshole when he’s pissed, and he doesn’t care who he takes it out on.”
“Can’t say I’ve dealt with him angry, but there’s a first time for everything.” This is only half-true. I’ve just never seen him angry at me.
“You really could have warned me that you’re insane before I gave you my blessing to marry Jay,” she says and reaches for the phone as poor GLORIA-RED disappears from his contacts list.
I narrowly dodge her and scoot toward the first stall. I hang his phone over the water. I knew Hennessey was a player, but the fucker has a color system in his phone, and that shit is just plain wrong. He’s lucky Royal talked me out of Plan A, which was to send an intimate picture of him that I found in his photos to every chick in his contact list who has a color next to her name. Except for my sister. I’m so not sending it to my sister. She’d tell Jameson, and he’d ask me if I really did see a picture of his brother’s dick, and well, I don’t want to cop to it. I know better than to look through his phone this thoroughly. He’d deserve the crazy that would come from sending the pic, but Royal had some good reasons to talk me out of it.
“That wouldn’t be any fun, now would it?” With a raised brow, I challenge her to try to take the phone from me again. “Come on, Hayes. This is what you’ve trained for—rescuing innocents and all that jazz.”
“Do. Not. Flush. That. Phone.” Her tone is full of warning, and her eyes are hard and cold, but it’s her mouth that gives her away. Hennessey is a dog, and she knows it. She wouldn’t have swiped his mobile if she didn’t think so. It’s just her pesky conscience that’s creeping up on her now. “And for the record, I’m trained in fire rescue, not psycho pseudo-girlfriend-on-the-loose phone rescues.”