Page 62 of Pulse

“We’ll see.” The sergeant glared for a few seconds, then stalked out of the room. “See them out, Newton,” he called over his shoulder as he left.

Pulse stood, rubbing his wrist. “Well, I’d like to say it’s been fun, but I think I’ll go withfuck youinstead.” He rested his hand on Talia’s lower back and guided her out of the room before Newton could respond. Warmth seared through her sweatshirt to her skin.

They’d most likely turned off the camera in the room, and she didn’t want to stick around for a second more than they had to. Newton was pissed enough to do or say something stupid.

When he reached the hall, Pulse dropped his hand. An immediate and profound sense of loss pummeled her so hard she gasped.

Pulse shot her a concerned side-eye. She shook her head once.

Nothing, it was nothing—just a weird, fleeting sensation.

As they walked side by side toward the exit, the urge to take his hand had her curling her fingers into fists. She’d be a fool to show her cards to these cops. Besides, Pulse wasn’t her boyfriend or anything ridiculous like that.

Then why did she suddenly feel like she wanted to rip his clothes off and touch him? Just hold him, breathe him in, and have him assure her he wasn’t harmed. She rolled her shoulders and cleared her throat but couldn’t shake the impulse. Instead, it grew with each step.

God, she wanted to feel him and be touched so badly that her knees wobbled.

What was happening to her?

Adrenaline crash?

Maybe, but adrenaline crashes were a familiar sensation that never accompanied a powerful urge to be near another person.

A man.

Then again, nothing had made sense since she first met Pulse.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WHAT A FUCKING night.

Talia swooping in to save his ass from crooked cops had become a disturbing pattern.

Fresh air greeted him as he walked outside. Funny, he’d forgotten it was the middle of the night. That explained the fatigue clinging to him. Twelve hours in the emergency room followed by a tasing and dramatic arrest would exhaust anyone.

Talia had to be wiped too. He’d woken her up in the middle of the night to a shit show she had to sort out. And sort it she did. The woman was amazing. She’d had those cops shitting themselves with a few well-placed threats.

But now that they were headed for her car, her vibe was not reassuring.

“Thank you,” he said as she marched toward her vehicle at a rapid clip.

“Not necessary. It’s my job, and your club pays me very well to do it, including overtime for middle-of-the-night calls.” They reached her car, and she went directly to the driver’s side. “Am I taking you to your apartment?”

He frowned. What happened to the fire from moments ago? This Talia emitted icy waves. “Yeah, that’s good. You okay?”

She smiled, but it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He studied her across the top of her car. She hadn’t bothered to take the time to dress in work clothes or even brush her hair. Something about her throwing on the closest thing and rushingto the police station had his stomach tightening. Did she regret not looking professional in front of the cops? It might not have been professional, but she looked incredibly sexy in a tousled, recently fucked kind of way.

Precisely the type of thing that would set her on edge.

“Because tonight sucked. And it was only the beginning of the suck.”

She shrugged. “Like I said. It’s my job.”

So, I’m nothing but a job to you?

He bit off the snarky reply. Tensions were too high, and nothing good would come of it.

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