Page 8 of Due South

“Lucy, I’m sorry. I didn’t… That was totally unacceptable and I apologize.”

The guy who I was just basically watching a live porno with is apologizing for a kiss? One I liked maybe more than I’ve ever liked a kiss before? I grab his arm and his flustered mumbling comes to a halt.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. You could…you could do it again. If you wanted to.”

I’d never thought of Evans as a particularly passionate person. He’s very diligent, friendly, maybe nervous. Probably why I’m not intimidated by him the same way I am by a lot of people in the office. But his normally mild, kind eyes have lit with something sharp, something that hints at an inner life that might be wilder than I’d expect.

Just as quickly as it’s come, though, it’s gone with the next blink and Evans is vaulting to his feet and hurtling out of the office while I sit there, dumbfounded, my fingers tracing my kiss-swollen lips.

Chapter Three

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December 18th

Evans

My office dooris hard and cool against my shoulder blades, steady while my ribcage heaves.

What in the ever-loving heck is wrong with me?

Not only had I just watched India and Cris…do it, but I’d liked it. And Lucy, oh man, she’d totally noticed that I had a hard-on. Not that it was super subtle because, despite trying to think all the unsexy thoughts, I couldn’t make it go away. And then I’d kissed her. I’d kissed Lucy, which on the one hand was awesome, but on the other hand—no, it was not awesome.

She in no way had consented to that, and the thought makes my stomach churn. I assaulted Lucy. I am officially the scum of the earth. As soon as this massive and increasingly achy erection goes away, I am going to offer her the most profound and profuse apology that has been offered to anyone ever. And if she’s uncomfortable with me—and who could blame her?—I’ll offer to hand in my resignation. It’s the only proper thing to do. Sure, I’d have to find something else right away because of my family, but I can’t bear the idea of Lucy having to work with someone whoviolatedher.

If I kept a sword in my office, I’d throw myself on it. As things are, I’ve only got some pencils that are in desperate need of a sharpening, a ruler, and some paperclips. I couldn’t even injure myself in a dignified manner. There’s also my dick, which is so hard I could probably use it as a bludgeon, and I need to do something about that. What the hell good would a very sincere apology be if my hard-on were waving in her face? None.

Pushing off the door, I sit at my desk and will my body to cooperate. But my brain is in no way obliging. Instead of going over the sections of the report I’ve been assigned, or my last conversation with my mother, or the contents of my fridge, it’s summoning images of what just happened. Of India and Cris and—oh, man.

After I’d helped India get through her airport panic attack, I’d realized that she had a squishy, human streak behind her badass exterior. But I didn’t think it went this far. When I’d talked to her friend Rey, he’d said that she responds to boldness. And uh, yeah, that’s one word for it.

He’d told me that, if I wanted to get her on the plane, I had to man up.

“But I’m…I’m not that guy. I can’t—”

“Listen to me, Evans. I’m sure you’re a very nice person and that’s great. The world needs more nice people. But at this very moment, do you know what India needs?”

“What?”

“She needs someone tough. Someone bossy. Someone authoritative. You have to understand that, at this very second, she’s not the badass, know-it-all bitch you know and are probably intimidated by. She’s frightened and panicking and lost in some bad shit and she needs your help. You want to help her, right?”

Of course I’d wanted to help her. She might’ve scared the living heck out of me, but I’d also had a bit of a crush on her and there was no way I could get the job done myself. Also, I wanted her respect and had hoped this would be a way to earn it. “Yes, I do.”

“So be that guy, Evans. She responds to boldness. Even if you think you don’t have it in you, I swear to god that you do. Because everyone does. So dredge him up, call him Rogue or whatever the fuck else you need to do, but be that guy because she needs you. I know you can do it because you always get the job done, don’t you?”

That had struck a particular chord because, yeah, I try. Even when it’s not easy and when I’d rather not, even if it’s not pretty and I’m pretty sure someone else could do it better, I do my job, whatever that happens to be. And to be recognized for that, even by a stranger… “Yeah, I get the job done.”

“So go do it. She might not like it, but she’ll thank you later. You can call me if you need me, but I trust you to get her on that plane.”

I haven’t talked to mystery Rey since then, but I play that conversation over in my head sometimes when I’m faced with a particularly sticky situation, especially when I need to call up that guy. I don’t call him Rogue, but I like the idea. That he’s always on deck, waiting to get called up to bat.

And maybe that’s the part of me that enjoyed watching Cris boss her around.Dominateher I suppose. It looked fun. Not that I could keep that up for long, but as a fun game to play sometimes? To get to be that guy in a sexual context? My dick throbs at the thought. And I’d practically blown when I’d started picturing me and Lucy doing something similar.

Which would explain my repugnant behavior. All of the blood in my brain went south and left me a sexed-up caveman idiot with no higher judgment or decency. Which is why I’d kissed her, without asking, like some kind of impulsive and inconsiderate jerk. I bang my head on my desk, but even that can’t get rid of the hardness in my pants.

I’m starting to suspect that I’ve only got a couple of options for making it go away. One is taking a shower so cold it would make a polar bear’s balls shrivel. But that would involve crossing the hallway and potentially running into Lucy, who does not need any more unwanted advances from my pants.

Which means… There’s maybe a bottle of lotion in one of my drawers—what, I have sensitive skin—and there’s always a box of tissues on my desk. I could take a couple of minutes, take care of this issue, and then go apologize. Yes. That’s what I’ll do. Because that’s what any decent guy would do.

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