Hormones, ladies and gentlemen. Complicating shit, one horny bastard at a time.
“Well, whatever it was,” she pulls at her top to make herself presentable again, “it was unprofessional, and I apologize.”
I let out a chuckle. “Unprofessional. Seriously?”
That’s what she’s calling it?
“Yes.” She stands and pulls her jacket off the edge of the couch. Like standing and covering herself up is gonna make me forget about the curves I now know lay underneath all that fabric.
I put a hand behind my head. “Well, technically, I started it.” Which is the odd thing because, typically, when I start something, I end it. And I end it well.
Okay, not so well, sometimes.
I digress.
“True. You did. But I ended it.” This statement right here is where I see how Green has this way of trying to come off as completely focused when really she’s got about a million things going on inside that head of hers.
Does she regret what just happened is the question. Or is she trying to play like she regrets it so I’ll drop it.
“Pretty sure that was me, too.” I can’t help it. It’s in my nature to contradict every fucking thing she says.
“Yeah.” She scowls and ponders something. Maybe she does regret it. That gets me thinking again.
Do I regret it?
“Well, anyway.” She turns away from me to start cleaning up the Chinese containers. “Let’s forget it happened and try to figure out our next steps on the Donnie Leary thing.”
I could push her buttons some more. Avoid the questions swarming inside my own head about the fuckery that just evolved here. Have a few more laughs maybe, but when she mentions Donnie, I’m pulled back from the bliss. She’s right. We need to figure this shit out.
It’s the exact thing she needed to say to get me to drop the teasing.
Did she know that? Or was it a fluke?
Regardless, she’s right about the unprofessional thing. Or however you wanna spin it. It’s one thing to flirt, but getting physically involved with a woman in the media?
Another one, that is.
Bad idea on a good day. Getting involved with a woman who’s as savvy as Green? Very bad idea.
The upside? Even though she tries to hide it, I can see she’s blushing. And I have to say, I fucking love that I put that color red in those cheeks.
“You should probably get home.”
I say it, half hoping she’ll leave, half hoping she’ll fucking stay. When Green checks her watch, panic flashes across her face.
She’s leaving.
“Home. Right.” She drags her fingers through her hair to keep it from looking like she just dry humped a colleague, then she starts pulling her boots back onto her feet.
“I’ll walk you down.”
“I’m so sorry about that.”
“Stop fucking apologizing for everything.” Damn. She irritates the hell out of me with that shit.
My tone throws her off, and it shows in her expression. “Okay, jeez. Sor…” she starts to say it again then stops. She reaches for the door, and this time, I’m the one apologizing.
“Green, I didn’t mean─”
“I know what you meant.”
We don’t speak until we’re at the bottom of the stairs. Even then, I’m kind of at a loss for words.
Lilah’s murder scene is empty except for the police tape.
A lump gets stuck in the back of my throat when I think about her again. The rage I feel for being the cause of yet another kid, too young to be dealt a grisly death, starts to build up.
“Hey.” Green’s hand is on my arm. At first, I don’t want to look at her, but she turns me around in such a way I’d look like an idiot kid trying to avoid eye contact with his parents if I didn’t. So I stare into those emerald eyes of hers, and she tells me point blank.
“This wasn’t your fault.”
I nod but we both know that shit’s not true.
“Jackson.” I can’t decide if I love or hate it when she says my name like that. For now, I kinda fucking hate it.
“You’re going to figure this out.” She says it like she means it. “The connection between Lilah, Stix, and the other murders, I know you’ll figure it out.”
I swallow down the guilt for the time being.
“I’m going to help you.”
She checks the time again. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll check in later.”
“Right.” I wave her off, and as she pulls out of the parking lot, a familiar cruiser pulls in.
Air leaves me, heavy and filled with the unknown.
As Nick parks and starts to get out of his vehicle, I’m still wondering if what Green said tonight is true.
Am I gonna figure this shit out? Or die trying?
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks as he approaches. The look on his face screams half worried, half amused.
“What? Nothing’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? And why the fuck are you here at oh dark thirty?”
“Not dark, Jackie. The sun?” Nick points. “It’s right there.”
Smart ass. “Beside the point.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“About?”