Page 17 of The Proposal Pact
“Did you just shush me?” A whistle blows, and I turn my head around toward the hot cop.
“Hey, I’m not the one who took out the front door and came into my apartment uninvited. Plus, I don’t have any time to talk right now anyway. We’re in the middle of the third period and it’s still 0-0.”
“Excuse me?”
I turn my head back toward the TV where the game is about to resume. “You are excused.” I wave him off without looking over at him. “Or else you’re welcome to wait until the end of the period.”
“Miss!”
“Mister!” I mimic his shock.
“We received a call from your neighbor about loud noises and death threats coming from this apartment, and when I came up the stairs I heard you scream, so I rushed in. Do you care to explain what’s going on?”
Zlatan wins the face-off, and the puck is in the Ice Devils zone. It’s moving too fast for me to track but I see Goram, Quinn and Zlatan all there. There is traffic in front of the net, Goram takes the shot, but the goalie deflects it. The puck comes straight to Quinn and…
“GOAL!!!” I screech, jumping off my couch, my hands in the air as I bounce up and down, screaming at the top of my lungs.
“Jesus Christ,” the officer yelps which sounds almost comical in his deep voice. I turn around and find him staring up at the ceiling, his hands planted on his sides and realize I must’ve totally flashed him when I was doing my victory dance.
Oops! I giggle to myself, the sounds catches his attention, and he brings those narrowed, hard green eyes to me.
“You’re welcome to take off your pants to even out the play field,” I say casually and jokingly, of course, but he looks at me totally unamused. Actually, that look right there, kind of reminds me of Vas. He’d always look at me like that when I did something stupid.
“Can we talk now?” the guy asks, ignoring my comment and I glance back at the TV.
“Um, in seven minutes or so,” I tell him, looking at the time remaining in this period. “Actually, make that ten, because I’m sure Zima will facilitate a fight with the Outlaws after that goal. Do you want a beer while you wait?” I ask, moving toward my galle-style kitchen while we are on commercial break.
“What the fuck is going on?” I hear the hot cop murmur quietly to himself and when I steal a glance over my shoulder, I see him rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index fingers.
“So, is that a yes to a beer? You only have another thirty seconds to decide.” I prop my hip against the white cabinet and the butcher-style countertop. Freaking white…at least they won’t stay like that for a long time because I was given permission to change out anything I want in here. I moved in three days ago and have been quickly spending all the savings I have on renovations and a new wardrobe.
What? They have the coolest thrift shops here! I couldn't say no to all those dresses.
The new paint color and the sanding machine are patiently waiting in the corner until tomorrow morning. Grace is coming over so we can tackle the kitchen first. I also already ordered a new colorful couch from the lovely Fifi at Fifi’s Good downstairs that Gracepromised her husband, Luke, will deliver it with his friends this week as well.
There is no way I’m going to keep the plain gray one the renter before me left here. Which, funnily enough, was one of Luke’s friends as well.
“Do you realize you are talking to the sheriff?” he says.
“Ooo, I get the VIP treatment.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Fucking hell,” he groans, slapping his face. “What is your name?”
I’m about to give it to him when the game comes back on and I run back to the couch. “Okay, boys, let’s keep up the good work,” I say to the TV.
Behind me, I hear him murmur, “Crazy. That’s her name.”
I stifle a laugh at his comment. “You’re not the first to call me that in the last week, so I guess I’ll take it.”
“So, youcanhear me.”
“Never said I couldn’t… Yes, yes! Just like that! Good boy, Exton! Wipe the ice with that asshole,” I scream, but just a second later Zima breaks away so fast no one is able to catch the wind of him, and my heart stops as I watch him take the shot.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the hulking form in white T-shirt approach, but I don’t realize what he’s about to do until it’s too late because all of the sudden, my TV goes black, the apartment deadly quiet, and my mouth falls open.
“There.” He claps his hands. “Now you can really hear me.”
I point. “Wh-what did you just do?” I stutter, blinking widely as my gaze moves from the dark TV to the guy-who-no-longer-wishes-to-live. Did he…did he seriously just turn it off?
