Ava’s heart twisted.
No. He hadn’t told her. And she hated how much it bothered her that he hadn’t.
But there was something else bothering her too…something darker that she couldn’t shake.
It was that Darius Johnson’s account of what happened that day, and the following days, proved Ava had been right all along.
That there really was no such thing as a true hero.
Luc Moretti’s record wasn’t all saving babies and taking care of the homeless.
There was death there too.
Possibly even mistakes, if Darius’s versions were correct.
And yet none of that was bothering her as much as the fact that she hadn’t heard from Luc in three days.
She’d told herself he was busy, and that they weren’t in a relationship, and that she shouldn’t expect they’d hang out every day, but…
She missed him.
Officer Moretti might not be who she’d thought—secretly hoped—he was.
But Luc?
Luc was important to her.
And she was about to throw him under the bus.
“Finally!” Davis shouted from the other side of the studio as he strode toward the door. “What the hell took you so long?”
Ava’s shoulders straightened.
Luc.
Her eyes sought and found him immediately. As instructed, he was wearing his uniform, and her heart caught in her throat, even though she’d seen him in uniform dozens of times over the past two months.
Today, she let herself see Officer Moretti with fresh eyes. Saw the way his arms filled out the crisp blue of his shirt, the way his pants fit his lean figure perfectly.
But it was more than the dead-sexiness of an alpha man in uniform.
It was the pride with which he wore it.
And that’s when it hit her. It didn’t matter that Luc Moretti wasn’t a perfect cop, because there was no such thing as a perfect cop. No such thing as a perfect anything, really.
But she didn’t care about that.
Because Luc was a good man.
A great man.
A man who put on that uniform every day, not for the prestige, not for the television, not even for his own career advancement, but because he was purely good.
He was Ava’s opposite in every way.
Ava, whose only goal in life thus far was to get ahead in her career, helping no one.
Why the hell was she letting her life be dictated by people she didn’t like, rather than people she did?
“Something’s wrong,” she said quietly.
“Ya think?” Mihail grumbled darkly.
“No, with Luc. He hasn’t looked at me.”
He’d been in the studio for several minutes now, but not once had his eyes moved around the room to search for her.
This wasn’t the man who’d held her just a few nights ago and made passionate love to her on her couch.
It wasn’t the man who’d befriended her heinous cat, or ate sushi four days in a row just because she loved it.
Ava had never really let herself acknowledge it before, but there had always been this humming presence between her and Luc.
Whenever they were in the same room, even on the same street, there was a connection.
They felt each other. She knew where he was at all times, and he always seemed to have an eye on her, even when he wasn’t actually looking at her.
That connection was gone.
She couldn’t feel him anymore. And she was afraid she knew why.
He knew.
Somehow he’d found out that she’d gone behind his back, researching his past.
And he knew she was going to use it to her advantage. To launch her career in investigative journalism even as she gave up her chance at anchorwoman.
“He’s going to walk,” she said, her eyes never leaving Luc’s stony profile. “He’s going to refuse to do the interview.”
“Then why’s he letting someone put on his mic?” Mihail asked.
Ava frowned. Mihail was right. Luc was standing there, letting the sound guys hook him up. He even let the makeup girl near him, although not without a glare.
He was going to go through with it. He knew what was coming; she knew he knew—she could sense it. But he was going to do it anyway.