Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)

Minutes later, we dress in silence. He stands at the door, staring at me with a crease between his eyebrows. But I send him a flirty wave, a signal for him to walk out the door. I feel more myself once he’s out of sight. Mostly.

“Ever?” My date leans forward, a concerned look on his face. “Everything okay?”

“Yes!” Oh God, the waiter is at our table staring at me expectantly. What kind of restaurant are we in, again? Tapas. Number system. “I’ll have . . . one, three and nine.” I look down at my empty pint of beer. “And another one of these, thanks.”

My date looks a little disapproving over me having a second drink before the food even arrives, but somehow I dig deep and find the determination to change his mind about me. To make this date go well. I owe it to myself. Owe it to my mother. What I had with Charlie was amazing while it lasted, but sending a man home with nothing more than a pinkie wave can’t be my normal anymore. Not if I want to move forward and start living for the future my mother wants for me. The one she wishes she’d achieved and I now want. For me, the loneliness didn’t even take decades to set in. Deep down, I’d already started feeling it that first time Charlie left my apartment.

“Um . . .” I shift in my seat, aware that the memory of Charlie has made my underwear damp and my chest feel hollow. Focus on now, Ever. “Where did you say your niece lives?”

And then the fire alarm goes off.

Water sputters from the ceiling sprinklers a split second later, and the entire restaurant erupts in shouts and squeals. Patrons are doused as they futilely attempt to cover their heads, jogging toward the exit. Waiters drop trays and follow. I’m pretty sure my jaw is in my lap, but I have an insane urge to laugh. This is a sign. It has to be.

I’m unsure whether it’s a good or bad one until Landon shoots to his feet, his expression pinched. “What the fuck,” he growls, snatching my napkin off the table to wipe his face, blot his shirt. “They have to be kidding me. Is there a manager around?” he shouts. “I’m not paying for these drinks.”

Bad sign. For sure.

Guess I’ll be finding a new Laundromat.





Charlie


Sometimes things seem like great idea, until you watch them unfold from a coffee-shop window across the street. Like, a restaurant being evacuated, hundreds of people spilling out onto the street. The kind of illegal things I’ll be arresting people for someday. Like instigating a plan to have one friend distract a restaurant kitchen staff, while the other friend pulls the fire alarm. Those kinds of things.

I stop caring about ethics, though, when I see Ever follow some fuck wad in a tie out onto the sidewalk. The coffee I’m sipping turns to battery acid in my stomach, and I can’t feel the chair underneath my ass. She doesn’t look nervous or anything, which was my main concern. She’s easily one of the driest customers outside the restaurant, thank God. If my actions got her sick, I’d have to enter the monastery and take a vow of silence as punishment. But all in all? She seems pretty amused by the whole circus.

My lips curve in pure appreciation of Ever and her sense of humor, but my smile plummets when I see her date. Really? That guy? He’s one snifter of brandy away from an old-fashioned gentleman’s club. His back is so straight, he must have swallowed a flag pole. I could go all day. I hate his guts. He’s my sworn enemy on sight.

Not that I’m complaining or anything, but Patrick Bateman seems more miffed over his shirt being ruined than he is over Ever being exposed to possible structure fire. If I was on a date with Ever and the fire alarm went off, I would carry her out of the place and administer CPR, whether she wanted it or not. Instead, Bateman is waving around a white cloth napkin and ranting at the spooked wait staff, while Ever slowly eases away, like she’s thinking of ditching him. That’s my girl.

Damn, she looks incredible tonight. Her hair is down and loose, she’s wearing a mint-green sundress with some kind of pattern on it. Sandals with heels. Most of the time I’ve spent with her, she’s been barefoot. Which would normally turn me on, but is only serving to jam a cleaver into my jugular right now.

Ever waits until her date’s back is turned, then ducks behind a potted plant. Honest to God, I want to do a cartwheel right there in the coffee shop and buy everyone a round of espresso. While I won’t go as far as to say my rash date crashing was justified—I’m not completely delusional . . . yet—I appear to have saved Ever from wasting her night on someone who didn’t deserve her company.

Now if I can make it better, I’ve done my job.

I dip to the edge of the window and dial Ever’s cell. When she sees who’s calling, a hand comes up to cradle her throat, her mouth popping open.

Oh no. Oh, cutie. She misses me, too.

I almost sink down to the floor when she answers, because it’s too much. Seeing her miss me and hearing her voice at the same time. She’s never let me see anything like that on purpose, but I caught it. I caught her.

“Charlie?”

It takes me a moment to answer. “Hey, cutie. What are you up to tonight?” I hate myself in that moment for lying to her, but it’s too late to turn back. “You working?”

“No . . .” She frowns, glancing up and down the street. “No, I’m just, um . . .”

She doesn’t want me to know she was on a date. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. “Want to meet up? I was just heading out for a walk.”

Her sigh slides into my ear. “Meet where?”

“The law-enforcement memorial on East Tenth?” I don’t know why I suggest this specific spot. Maybe I’m still in panic mode over finding out she was on a date and the memorial tends to ground me. Maybe I just need to show her an important part of me. Something that will help her understand why I can’t commit all the way. Why I can’t be the guy taking her out to eat tapas and giving her CPR when an alarm goes off. “I, uh . . . figure it’s a good midway point between us. Meet me there in half an hour?”

Please. Please, say yes. After seeing her, having her so near, I’m not sure I can survive another night without getting closer. “See you in a while.”

When she hangs up, I expect a sense of victory, but I only feel anxious. Like I’m standing on shaky ground.





Ever


I’m sitting at the memorial when Charlie rounds the corner in the distance. I speed walked here in an attempt to dry off. At least I didn’t get as soaked as my date, who frankly needed a good dousing after yelling at that group of innocent waiters, as if they had anything to do with the alarm going off and ruining his Gucci loafers. Honestly. Men like him are reserved for the date horror section of Cosmo.

Seeing Charlie in the flesh takes me back to the daydream I had in the restaurant, right before the alarm sounded. How hot it made me.

Did my memories set off the fire alarm?