14
EMMA
Stryker is waiting for me outside the police department when I get there in the morning for my second week of work, with two cups of coffee in his hand.
“I’m sorry, Emma.” He starts speaking before I can walk by, completely ignoring him. “You know I don’t think you’re a badge bunny. I never did think anything bad about you. I just got thrown by seeing you with Dom, that’s all. I never expected to see you sleep with your training officer, and it threw me completely for a loop.”
“Please.” I groan, trying to fight off the migraine I can already feel forming at his words. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want to have to fight you about this, and it’s clear that we just aren’t going to get along. That’s fine.”
“This is for you.” He holds out the precious caffeine like that will buy him back into my good graces. “And again, I’m sorry.”
I’m not above a bribe, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be forgiving him anytime soon. Instead, I take the coffee and walk by. “Maybe one day, Eddie. But not today.”
He rushes to open the door for me. “Okay. You know I’ve never been good at thinking things through before I jump to conclusions. Or shoving my foot in my mouth.”
I don’t say another word to him as we walk into the bullpen. Mostly because I see Dom and Linc standing there watching the two of us with matching expressions of rage. When Dom’s eyes land on me, they soften minutely, and I swear I see him actively reliving the weekend we spent locked in his house. Yes, the entire weekend. I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a room or surface that we didn’t have sex in or on.
But we agreed that at work, it has to be hands off.
He has to be hands off.
“What’s wrong?” I turn to Linc, who hasn’t taken the thunderous expression off his face.
“Hayes,” Chief Townsend barks from his office.
Both Linc and I turn around.
“The pretty one.”
Linc snorts and I glare him into submission.
“That’s you, Pretty Boy.”
“The girl Hayes,” Chief corrects.
“Sir,” I greet. “Do you need me now or can I change first?” I look down at the clothes I’ve worn into work, regretting choosing comfort over professionalism.
He eyes me up and down quickly and shakes his head. “Changing can wait. Come here for a minute.”
I walk into his office, making sure to take the coffee with me. If I have to face the firing squad, I’m going to do it with caffeine.
“Yes, sir.”
He shuts the door, which surprises me, because I didn’t expect him to wait for me before taking his usual seat behind his desk.
There is a single sheet of white paper sitting on it, and instinctively, I swallow.
Nothing good ever came from a single piece of paper sitting on a desk.
“Am I being fired?” Panic fills my veins, and the tremor in my hand is almost unmistakable with the coffee cup held tightly. “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” Even my voice is shaking. “I’m pretty sure I’ve followed everything in the FTO program, and there hasn’t been a complaint. Is this about the fainting? You can’t fire me because I fainted, can you?”
“What?” He stares at me, trying to figure out where I’ve gotten that impression, when he sees the piece of paper on his desk. “Oh. No. This isn’t to fire you. You’re required, by the city and the department, to report when you’re involved in a romantic relationship with another officer.”
My heart skitters to a halt in my chest.
Dom and I haven’t had that conversation. I don’t know what we are, or if we are anything.
“Sir.” I hesitate. “I’m not sure that form is something I actually need.”