His shaking voice leaves me no choice but to nod. And then we’re moving. Fast. Charlie pulls me under one arm, Nina under the other and we skirt past the surging bodies, Charlie using his body to take the brunt of any flying fists. The closer we get to the emergency exit, I hear sirens and they grow louder, louder, until I realize there is a police presence in the hall, too. Everyone is scattering as a result, joints are being stomped out, people are calling the names of their friends, looking freaked out.
We burst through the emergency exit and hit the sidewalk, cool night air slapping my dewy skin, calming my buzzing nerves. Charlie steers us east, in the direction of our apartment. “What about your brother?” I ask him, my fingers curled in his shirt.
“Trust me. He can take care of himself.” Letting Nina go, he keeps an arm around my shoulders and slants a look down at me. I get the distinct impression he hasn’t quite forgiven me for running off on him. “He texted me to come find you because it wasn’t a great situation. I’m sure he was prepared for the worst.”
“He told me he was going to come to the apartment,” Nina says, referring to her ex and sounding more than a little shell-shocked. “He said we need to talk . . . and he’s coming over. Tonight.” She meets my eyes behind Charlie’s back. “I believe him. I’ve never seen him that angry.”
“You can’t let him in, Nina.” I’m trying to sound firm and soothing all at once, but my voice is unnatural, thanks to the adrenaline. “He pushed you.”
“What?” Charlie’s back stiffens. “I didn’t see. I was a little distracted.”
Yeah, he’s still ticked off at me. But his arm around my shoulders is tighter than ever, so I have no idea where we stand. That look in his eye before hell broke loose is still engraved on my mind.
“He has a key, Ever. Building and apartment,” Nina says, slapping a hand over her eyes. “We always stayed at his place. I don’t even think he’s ever used them. But he could if he wanted.”
“Yeah. Not even happening.” Charlie’s jaw is stiff as we turn the corner onto Second Avenue. “Call your super, ask him to come change the lock. I’ll wait at your place until it’s done.” The laugh he lets out is so dark, I have to double check he’s still my quick-witted, fun-guy cop in training. “Here’s hoping he does show up, so he can push someone around his own size.”
“You sound like an old-time movie actor.” I bite my lip. “It’s really cute.”
“I concur,” Nina mutters. “But there’s one problem with your solution, Charlie. When we knock on our super’s door, he just turns up the volume on Spike TV.”
“She’s right. We didn’t have heat for two days last winter because they were having a Charles Bronson marathon.”
Poor Charlie is getting more exasperated by the minute, but I’m too worried to appreciate how helpful he’s being. I’d never considered Nina’s ex a threat before, just an asshole, but that push brought things to another level. I want to make sure she’s safe in our apartment.
Charlie is already pulling out his phone. “No big deal. I’ll call a twenty-four-hour locksmith.” He dips his shoulder and nudges Nina. “It’s going to be fine, okay? No one is getting through me.”
Nina nods, a relieved, hesitant smile playing on her lips.
And that’s when I know. Without a doubt. I’m in love with Charlie Burns.
Charlie
I know Ever and Nina could have handled this on their own. There’s a chain lock and they know to call the police, if necessary. Plus, they’re a couple of badasses that just escaped a riot and started making jokes, without even missing a beat.
But I’m still mid-heart attack after watching Ever run headfirst into a brawl, so I’m not budging. Not a single inch. God help Nina’s ex-boyfriend if he does show up. I’m sitting on a kitchen stool, arms crossed, staring at the door like a bull getting ready to charge. Static is bursting and sizzling in my veins, leftover from Ever being so close to danger. I’ve got so much pent-up energy inside me that if dipshit walks through that door, it wouldn’t even be a fair fight.
My sore eye tingles, as if reminding me of the last fight I participated in. Hell, at this rate, I might as well be training for the middleweight belt.
Ever disappeared into the bathroom a few minutes ago and I hear the water running, high heels being kicked aside. She’s probably naked. Definitely, probably naked. But I’m not here to find out. Nope. I’m going to wait until the lock is changed, kiss her on the cheek and leave. Tomorrow morning, I have a hell day, meaning Greer is running drills. Plus I’ve signed on to train after hours with the Emergency Services Unit—my father’s not-so-subtle suggestion—to show the brass I’m serious about making up for the fight I instigated. The fist fight hurt my chances of making sergeant, and eventually lieutenant, on schedule, so I have a lot of ground to cover. I have no time to be playing Ever’s boyfriend, even though it feels fucking incredible to be guarding her door, ready to take on anything and anyone who comes through.
She’s looking for someone to take this job. Actively looking. I’ve seen the proof. There are dates scheduled. And I’m getting ready to leave for the final time. It’s the right decision, even if it makes me ache. Makes me ill and dizzy and anxious.
Every muscle in my body jumps at once and I surge off the stool, going into the kitchen to make coffee, trying to occupy my frustrated energy. There are Tupperware containers all over the counter, packed with cookies and little yellow bars with white frosting. I pop one open but shut the lid like a guilty child when Ever walks out of the bathroom . . . and ohhhhhh shit.
“You can have one, Charlie.” She twists her hair up in a big, floppy bun. “You can have anything you want.”
The words, the way she says them, are completely bright and innocent. But nothing is occurring to my brain on an innocent level, with her in those shorts. They’re like underwear, they’re so tiny. So, so tiny and tight. Kind of like Ever.
Clearing my throat, I turn back around, blocking my lap from her view. “Are these, uh . . . lemon?”
Ever comes up beside me and Jesus, the shirt is worse. It’s loose, with cut-off sleeves, because she’s so cool, and her tits jiggle when she walks. “Fresh lemon. Made them this morning. They go great with coffee. Want some?”
“Sure.”
She opens the fridge and bends down, showing off the beautiful curve of her ass, and my mouth literally drops open, hanging there. I’m the saddest, horniest man on the face of planet Earth. Look. Even her little ass cheeks are popping out the bottom of the material. It’s so mean and hot. “You want cream?”
“What?” I rasp, my balls tightening.
Her toes wiggle beneath the fridge door. “Do you want cream in your coffee?”
“Yeah, sure.” I brace myself on the counter, trying to pull my shit together. Christ, I’ve been inside this girl dozens of times and I’ve never been this desperate for her. It’s because I can’t see her anymore. It’s because I watched her run away from me tonight and I’m still reeling. We’re getting in too deep. This has to stop or we’re going to get tangled up again.
Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)
Tessa Bailey's books
- Baiting the Maid of Honor_a Wedding Dare novel
- Protecting What's His
- Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)
- Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)
- Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)
- Crashed Out (Made in Jersey, #1)
- Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
- Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)