I couldn’t respond to him. Barrett was a good cop. He had a stellar reputation on the force and was under no obligation to give me any kind of props or validation. There was absolutely no way he could’ve known what the shrink had been asking me about before the shift started. All I could do was clear my throat and awkwardly tell him, “Well, you ain’t so bad yourself, Barrett.”
We finished up the paperwork for the shift. I felt bad for Carla, but people had to consider their actions and how they affected others in the long run. Barrett let me drive and I totally hit Taco Bell as we finished the rest of our mostly quiet shift. All the driving around and little action gave me too much time to think about what the shrink had been poking me with and Barrett’s words.
I had never wanted to ride on any kind of coattails. Not for my looks. Not for the fact that I could bat my eyelashes and have the world handed to me. And most certainly not for the fact that Dom loved me and would always look out for me. It had never occurred to me before today that I wasn’t being looked at as his partner but more as his shadow or lapdog, and I didn’t like that one bit. My biggest fight in life was to prove I had merit, to show I had substance past my face and body, and it sounded like holding on to Dom like a lifeline for so long had hindered my efforts to win that fight.
After my shift I wanted a hot shower and a drink. Well, actually I wanted the guy that was going to serve me the drink, but I still wasn’t sure how all that was going to play out. I had enough questions whirling around in my head that I didn’t want to tangle with the mystery that was Asa on top of it.
I took a shower and watched some TV. I paced around my apartment and bugged Saint by texting her across the hall. I tried to text Dom as well and pouted when all he texted back was:
Go to bed.
It was after one by the time I crawled between the sheets. I wasn’t tired or at least I thought I wasn’t, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out. It wasn’t until a couple hours later that I woke up. I was panting, I was shaking, and a fine sheen of sweat covered me from head to toe. I wasn’t seeing Dom fall. I wasn’t back in the alleyway. No, instead I woke up with one hand in my panties with the other squeezing my breast underneath my tank top and Asa’s name tumbling from my lips.
I groaned out loud and threw myself back against the pillows. I reached over to the nightstand and found my phone. I had totally called myself from his phone when he gave it to me to call Nash so he could bring me a key the other morning.
I’m ready to collect on my rain check.
I didn’t think about the fact that it was really late or that he might not respond. I just sent the text and shifted around on my bed, all keyed up and needing something only Asa could give to me.
The phone sang “Trouble” by P!nk when he texted me back, and that was enough to have my skin tingling all over in expectation. I held my breath as I looked at the phone just in case he was going to tell me to get lost, but the screen glowed bright with the words:
I’ll be at my place by 3.
I sighed and held the phone to my chest as everything inside of me heated up and throbbed with want and anticipation. It was so on.
CHAPTER 9
Asa
I put my phone back in my pocket after I sent the text back to Royal and gave my head a little shake to clear it. She had been on my mind a lot this last week, and not just because I could picture every inch of her naked body without any effort. I was wondering how she felt about finally crossing the line, about finally getting what she wanted. I was actually a little worried that I had succeeded in making her feel bad enough about herself and her desire to tangle with a guy like me that I had finally scared her away. The fact that it bothered me on a visceral level spoke volumes about what a bad idea messing around with the pretty redhead really was. Sometimes waking up and entering the land of the living, where all those tenuous emotions lived, really sucked since I was far from being a pro at dealing with them.
On top of being all twisted up over Royal, other weird stuff had been going on all week. The attractive older lady with the arm candy had been back in the Bar twice. The first time the boy toy was with her, the second time she was alone. She spent the entire evening flirting and obviously trying to get my attention, which I happily gave to her since she was a good tipper. I wasn’t interested, not with a sexy cop doing laps in my head nonstop, but the strange part was that I wanted to warn her about what guys like me would do to a woman like her.
She was obviously well off. She was a really good-looking woman and apparently all about a good time. A few years ago I would have moved in on her like she was a gazelle on the plains. I would have inserted myself into her life. I would have lied to her, told her anything she wanted to hear. I would have taken her to bed and let her think she was special, that I loved her … and then I would’ve cleaned her out. I would have taken everything she had that wasn’t nailed down and I would’ve done it without a second thought or any remorse. Now I just wanted to tell her not to be a victim, to watch herself, because even her brainless boy toy wasn’t with her without wanting something from her.
Instead I just served her martinis and easily flirted back. I knew logically I couldn’t stop anyone from being a victim, just like I couldn’t stop Royal from courting trouble. When the woman left me her number on a cocktail napkin, I actually fought a little internal battle before chucking it in the trash. It was still really hard for me to let a sure bet go. Easy money, all the dirty and easy things that rested on the bottom, where I was so used to spending time, still had an allure that I couldn’t turn a blind eye to. Eventually the reality of the fact that keeping the number meant I would use it and the woman it belonged to hammered hard in my blood. With a curse at my own internal struggle I crumpled up the napkin and tossed it away, disgusted that the battle between the good and bad was still being waged inside of me over something so obviously wrong.