Page 13 of Protecting Paul

“For good luck,” He says before kissing me softly. It does make me feel lucky. “I’ll see you later.”

I simply nod at that. There’s a lump in my throat. I wave goodbye as I walk out the door and try to set my head straight. All of this is temporary. I know that. So, why is it bothering me so much?

“Morning,” I say as I walk inside the precinct. I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Sanchez, can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Officer Sanchez says. We walk over to my desk, and he sits across from me. He sips his coffee and gives me a strange look. “I assume this is about Paul and Jerry Boyd.”

“How did you know?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. It isn’t like that’s the only case I’m working on.

“Because it’s all you talk about lately,” he laughs heartily. He sets his coffee down and crosses his arms. “You care an awful lot for Paul, huh?”

“I mean, yeah,” I say, shrugging. I’m trying to be nonchalant, but my cheeks are deep scarlet. “He’s my childhood friend, and he’s been through a lot. I just want to help him.”

“Childhoodfriend, right….” Sanchez trails off like he doesn’t believe me. “If I didn’t know better, I would say -”

“Shut up,” I say, cutting him off. It’s the first time someone has called me out on my feelings for Paul, and it’s making me nervous. I haven’t been open with my fellow officers about my sexuality, much less my relationship with Paul. I genuinely don’t know how they’ll react when they find out. “Will you come with me to evict that dickhead or not?”

“That’s the thing, Conroy,” Sanchez sighs and rubs his forehead. “I think you’re too close to this. I talked to Andrews and Winston. They agreed to come with me instead.”

“What?” My mouth is agape. I never expected this. “That’s… ridiculous! Too close? I’m not unprofessional.”

“It’s not about that,” Sanchez says, shaking his head. He looks as conflicted as I feel. “We’re just worried about how it’ll affect you. If this jerk says something negative about your buddy, what then? I think you may react without thinking.”

“I don’t…. I can’t….” I’m at a loss for words. Something inside of me says that he’s right. I can imagine myself punching Jerry in the face if he slings a slur at Paul. Goddammit. “You all agreed on this? Behind my back?”

“Chill out, Sam,” he says. He rarely uses my first name, making the situation seem more serious. “It’s not personal. We’re trying to look out for you, okay? I’m not the only one who has noticed this.”

“Fine.” I don’t have the energy to argue anymore. Maybe he’s right, but it still stings. “Just keep me updated.”

Before Sanchez can say anything else, I get up and walk away. The thought that Paul probably won’t be at my apartment when I return made me emotional before all of this. Now, I can’t even be the one to kick Jerry out like I wanted.

I know the rest of my day will be filled with anxiety about the Jerry situation and my feelings for Paul. I head to the breakroom, relieved when no one else is in there. I take the time to grab some coffee and sit down.

I stare blankly at the wall as I sip my drink. Everything is confusing, and I don’t feel equipped to handle it. It’s not like me to let things get to me so much. Hell, I’ve been to war, and this seems to be fucking me up more.

“Hey, Conroy,” I hear Andrews say as he peeks around the breakroom entrance. “We’re heading out to deal with that eviction notice. We’ll keep you updated, alright?”

“Yep. Good luck. The guy’s a real piece of work.”

“Not a problem man,” Andrews says. “We’ll get your buddy his house back.”

I’m left alone with my thoughts as Andrew walks away. He has no clue what he’s in for, but that’s not my problem anymore. I finally toughen up and leave the breakroom.

I bury my nose in paperwork for the next hour to distract me. I don’t look up until I hear footsteps approaching. I shove the papers aside when I realize it’s Sanchez again.

“No need to worry anymore, pal,” he says, walking behind my desk and patting my back. “Everything went smoothly. You were right, though. That guy is a real dickhead.”

“Oh, thank god,” I say, and heave a relieved sigh, almost hugging Sanchez. “He’s gone then? Paul can move back in?”

“Yep,” Sanchez nods at me, and I sigh again in relief. “Hey, listen, Conroy… Don’t be mad about all this, please. No one’s judging you for it.”

“For… what?” I ask. My heart beats heavily in my chest at the implication. I didn’t realize I was so obvious.

“You and Paul Boyd,” he continues, patting my back again. “He seems like a nice guy, and you seem happy. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

“Uh, thanks,” I say. I duck my head down. The jig is up, and my feelings for Paul are out in the open. I don’t know how I feel about it. “He’s a great guy. He deserves better.”

“I get you, Conroy,” Sanchez says in an intimate way that I’m not used to. We’ve never talked this much about our personal lives. I’m used to discussing cases with him and leaving it at that. “Just don’t let yourself get hurt.”

---