Page 77 of Splintered Hearts

“You look incredible. Wow.” He gives me a slow once-over.

Hyperaware of the man sitting in the chair behind me, I introduce him to Ben. “This is my roommate, Jamie. You can ignore him.” I’m desperately trying. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Please don’t,” Jamie mumbles.

“He’s joking.” I laugh a little to hard. “He likes to joke.”

“I’m a real fucking comedian,” Jamie mumbles.

Oh, I’m going to smack him. “This place is nice,” Ben comments.

“Thank you.” Why am I thanking him. Why am I so nervous?

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” Ben stares at me again, the hunger burning so brightly in his eyes. He looks good but I feel nothing. That’s okay though, right? That’s what dates are for. Trial and error. “Sorry... I can’t, you just... you look. Wow, just... amazing.”

“Eloquent,” Jamie whispers.

I need to get out of here. Checking myself in the mirror on the wall one more time, I hold out a hand to Ben. “I’m rea—”

“What’s that?” Frowning, I turn to see what Ben’s talking about. Jesus. Jamie’s bowl is sitting out next to the book he borrowed, nothing in it. It’s still weird. Jamie’s always careful with his things. Did he leave it out here on purpose?

“Inhaler,” Jamie says flatly. “How did you two meet?”

“Library,” I say.

“I go once a week,” Ben says, still flicking his eyes to the weed. “Well, lately I’ve been going a little more.”

“Uh-huh, and what do you do for a living?”

“Stop interrogating my date.”

“I just want to know about the guy taking my friend out is all.”

Friend.

Why did that simple word tie me in knots?

“I don’t mind.” Ben smiles. Again. Nothing. Just nothing. It’s fine. Sparks could grow. “I’m an officer.” His eyes flick to the table.

“Weed is legal.”

“If acquired correctly.”

“Acquired with the utmost correctness.” Jamie puts his hand over his heart, giving him a smile.

“Do you smoke?” he asks me.

“Oh, no. Not these pretty pink lungs.” I laugh nervously. My eyes drift to Jamie. I know he does it for the pain, and I really don’t give a shit about it. For me, I just don’t want to. Taking a moment, I calm myself. “I don’t judge, though. Just not for me.”

“How long have you been an officer?”

“I just graduated from the academy.”

“So . . . not an officer then.”

“Jamie?”

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