Page 37 of Lethal Seduction

“You do?” I can’t believe someone who is an accomplished police officer and now detective, thinks me pursuing my dreams as an actor is refreshing. “Honestly, I haven’t received any good parts. I’ve been offered a job in a low-budget porno, and I’ve done a few commercials. That’s about it.”

I can tell Michael doesn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for me. He probably really wants me to elaborate on the low-budget porn thing too, but I decide to make him ask if he wants further details.

“Not everything happens overnight,” he says, washing down the chips with the last of his drink. “I have a feeling you’re going to make your mark.”

How can he have such faith in me? Something tells me he’s being sincere though, and the fact that he didn’t give me the talk about having a backup plan in case the acting career doesn’t panout, makes him even more endearing to me. “And in case you were wondering, I didn’t accept the porno gig. Too low budget and there was no way I was going to star in a film named Haunted Holes.” I feign a shudder.

He laughs. “You don’t say? That’s one of my all-time favorites.”

“Gross,” I say and reach for a chip at the same time he does. Our hands brush against each other and send an electric chill down my spine.

So cliché and no way that could have really just happened, I think.

Since this isn’t a science experiment, I’m not able to test to see if it would happen again, but I do suddenly have a desire to feel his hands caressing my body.

My left nipple tingles, causing me to shiver.

“Are you cold?” Michael asks.

I nod thinking that would be the end of it.

He slides out from around his side of the booth and sits next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I lean into him and breathe in his scent. Despite dancing the night away at the concert, somehow this man still smells good. I could push my face right into his armpit but force myself not to—that’d be weird, right?

“I should get you home,” he says with a squeeze around my shoulders. “It’s getting really late.”

We pay the bill and leave. The car ride to my apartment is quiet, but again, not uncomfortable in the slightest. We listen to soft melodies, and I bask in the energy between us. Truly, the best night of my life. Once we arrive at my apartment, I turn to him.

“Thank you so much for a lovely evening.”

“My pleasure,” he says. “I’d like to take you out again soon, if you think you’re open to that?”

The words couldn’t come out fast enough. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Do we kiss? Hug?

He reaches over and hugs me. His warmth is soothing. I could fall asleep in his arms, pressed up against his thick, muscular frame.

I get out of the car, close the door, and hurry to my apartment. Before going inside, I turn back around and wave goodbye.

He waves back and slowly pulls away from the curb. I watch him go and then head inside, closing the door behind me. Once in the apartment, I twirl around, clutching my Lady Dame t-shirt to my chest.

God, I hope he calls me tomorrow.

16

MICHAEL

It's way past my usual bedtime and my legs feel heavy as I get out of the car and walk to my front door. The evening has gone so much better than I could have hoped for. Patrick is such a cool guy, and he really seems to like me. We have fun together. Even the quiet times when we're just sitting in each other’s company, the silence feels good—not awkward and terrifying like many of my other dates have been.

Tossing my jacket onto the sofa, I slug my way through the living room and into the primary bedroom where I desperately want to collapse onto the bed. The problem is I still have some errant glitter on me from the concert, not to mention my deodorant will fail by morning, and I don’t want to wake up smelling like a farm animal.

Kicking off my shoes, I then toss my socks into the hamper and go into the bathroom. It isn’t a huge ensuite, but considering I purchased the home on a public servant’s salary by myself in Los Angeles, it’s more than I could have expected. The walk-in shower has recently been remodeled with white marble and I absolutely love it.

The bright overhead lighting never lets me forget that I’m getting older by the day when I look at myself in the mirror above the sink. A few wrinkles have started showing at the corners of my eyes. Nothing too bad, but definitely something I’ve noticed in the last year. Making a mental note to seek an aesthetician’s expert opinion when I get some time off to pamper myself, I wash my face in the sink. Well, more like splash some cold water to wake me up. It’d be a disaster if I fell asleep in the shower again.

I laugh to myself, remembering that night. I’d pulled a double shift during a stakeout. My partner and I drank coffee and ate doughnuts to the point of nausea, but we didn’t want to risk leaving to get some real food. Our target had been too important; a known sex offender who’d refused to register with the city. Rumor had it he was also involved in some possible human trafficking, but we hadn’t been able to confirm it at the time. Anyway, once I got home, there was nothing I needed more than a long hot shower. Nothing, except sleep.

I rub the side of my head as I recall the incident—waking up on the floor with the water still running. Only, the shower had gone from hot to cold at some point while I was asleep, and when I woke up, I was shivering on the tiled floor, bleeding from an egg-sized knot on my temple.

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