Page 60 of Recklessly Yours

I would run it over. That way I could see him for a few minutes. Ethan had told me this morning that he would be around and that if I had to leave the building to text him, so I shot off a quick message and put together the order.

By the time I made it to the entrance of the restaurant, Ethan was already waiting for me. The drive over to the station only took ten minutes, but when I stepped up to the officer at the front desk and told him I was here with Dylan Gray’s lunch order, I was starting to feel nervous about my decision.

What if he asked for the food to be delivered because he didn’t want to see me? Or he was too busy and didn’t have time? Would he be annoyed that I’d shown up?

I spun the beaded bracelet on my left wrist, willing my nerves to settle. I was being ridiculous.

A few moments later, the officer behind the counter returned and held out a hand, gesturing to the bag. “He says you can leave it here.”

“Thanks.” Masking my disappointment with a smile, I turned and hurried back out to Ethan, feeling stupid. I understood that his career was important and that he was busy, but was he really so overloaded with work that he couldn’t take one minute to say hi?

After focusing on work and hearing nothing else from Dylan, I was more than ready to see him by the time five o’clock came around. We would have dinner together like usual, maybe watch some TV. Then we’d fall into bed together, and I could stop worrying that he’d changed his mind.

But when Ethan met me at the door at the end of the day, disappointment swamped me again.

“Where’s Dylan?”

He shrugged. “Still at the station, I assume. You ready?”

Once I was buckled in the passenger seat of Ethan’s patrol car, I shot off a text to Dylan.

Me: Everything okay?

Dylan: Yup

With a sigh,I tried again.

Me: Will you be home for dinner?

Dylan. No.

Me: You sure everything’s okay?

Dylan: Yup.

Now I was spiraling. I needed more than a one-word answer from him.

Me: Want to tell me what’s going on?

Dylan: We can talk when I get home.

Well, that didn’t sound great. If nothing was wrong, he wouldn’t want to talk. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned toward the window.

By the time nine o’clock came and went without any word from Dylan, it was clear something had changed.

I wasn’t sure why, but the message had been received. Loud and clear. I didn’t need to wait up to hear whatever explanation he was going to give. It wouldn’t matter.

Feeling sad and stupid, I went upstairs, took a shower, and climbed into my own bed. Maybe I’d pushed too hard on Monday, and he wasn’t actually ready for a relationship.

I wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

Chapter Twenty-Six

DYLAN

“You’ll be here, then?”my dad verified for the third time since we’d been on the phone that I would, in fact, be making it home for my mom’s birthday in three weeks.

“Yes, shouldn’t be a problem.” This case better be wrapped up by then. If not, I’d lose my fucking mind.

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