Page 11 of Before They Were Lovers

Two months later, Valentine’s Day…

God let out a low growl as they passed their tenth couple, nestled up, the woman carrying an oversized teddy bear and balloons, dressed to the nines as if they were going to fucking prom.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you tonight, or do I have to guess?” Day’s smooth voice penetrated God’s frustrated thoughts, the usual glimmer of amusement lacing his tone.

He glanced sideways, taking in the way Day’s uniform coat hugged his chest and slim waist as he walked with his hands shoved in his pockets.

His partner had a way of carrying himself in a carefree, loose, but confident manner. He had a kind of charm God couldn’t quite place, a natural ability to make people feel at ease, even with a badge over his left pec.

God grunted. He wasn’t in the mood to share his feelings, but Day was persistent. He somehow knew when something was off without God saying a word.

“Nothing,” God muttered, his gaze scouring the activity on the streets.

“Uh-huh, okay then.” Day’s voice held a bit more teasing. “That’s why you’ve been communicating like an extra inThe Lion Kingfor the past two hours.”

Asshole. God didn’t respond as he struggled to keep his mouth from curving upward.

He didn’t want to smile today. He hadn’t even wanted today to arrive.

Valentine’s Day.

He loathed it. It wasn’t that he hated love or some dumb shit like that. He wasn’t a heartless bastard. He just couldn’t stand the forced bullshit of this so-called sweetheart’s day. It was a made-up commercial celebration. Why did anyone have to buy flowers, candy, and oversized teddy bears that took up half the sofa just because it was a day in the middle of February?

God didn’t need a specific day to show anyone he cared about them. If he wanted to do something nice, he’d do it when he felt like it. Why did he have to indulge in a fake holiday that existed purely to sell shit?

And now…now he had to appease a chick he hardly knew who was expecting him to bend over backward today like every other gullible idiot. Sherry wasn’t even his full-time headache yet. She was a one-night stand turned into a two-week fling. And her constant text and voicemails while he was at work made his blood simmer.

He didn’t know how to tell her to back the fuck off without sounding like an asshole. He couldn’t care less if he offended or hurt the feelings of the pricks at work, but he hated to admit he had a soft spot for hazel eyes, pouty lips, and a big ass. But if he got one more message asking what they were “doing for the holiday,” he was going to snap.

Sherry wasn’t bad, well, not really. She was sexy, could make a good steak-and-potatoes dinner, was content to play Candy Crush on her phone when he was watching a game, gave good back massages, and was amazing at reverse cowgirl. But she could also be needy as fuck.

She called all the time “just to hear his voice,” and after only a couple of weeks, she was starting to expect things. God wasn’t in the correct mind frame or at a point in his life to meet anyone’s expectations—except maybe Day’s—right now.

His job was demanding, so for him to be tied down to something as basic as a two-week romance was crazy.

God’s phone buzzed in his pocketagain. He didn’t have to check to know it was another message from Sherry.

He clenched his jaw, letting out a full chest grumble that made Day stop in his tracks.

“All right, Mufasa, that’s it.”

Before he could object, Day notified dispatch they were going on break and yanked God into a small coffee shop. Without having to tell him what he’d have, Day went to the counter and ordered an espresso roast with a plain bagel for God and an extra-sweet, love-bean latte and a ham-and-cheese croissant for himself.

How the man stayed as fit as he was, God would never understand.

“All right, let it out,” Day said after God had finished his bagel and Day had eaten half of his croissant. “You’ve scowled at every couple who’s walked by. Are you dreading something you got going on after your shift?”

God shot him an annoyed glare, but Day was grinning, those light eyes sparkling with humor.

“It’s just all this fake shit,” he growled. “Like what the fuck?”

Day raised a brow. “Ahh, so that’s it. You’re some sort of Cupid crusher, huh?”

“It’s stupid,” he muttered.

Day hummed, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Whatever.” God pfft’d. “You’ve probably got plans for it too.”

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