Page 14 of Beauty and the Cop
"Do you have siblings?"
"I'm an only. You?"
"One brother."
"Is he a cop too?"
"He plays hockey, actually."
"Ah." Her face lights up. "No wonder you like sports!"
I chuckle quietly. "We both played through college, but it was just a hobby for me. He was really fucking good, though. No one was surprised when he was drafted."
"Where does he play?"
"Right here in Chicago."
"I bet you love that."
"It doesn't suck," I agree, setting my empty bowl on the table to grab my beer. "Especially when I need a favor at work. All it takes is a couple of tickets, and I'm golden."
Her bright laughter spills across the living room, turning my cock to steel again. Christ Almighty, that sound is like a fucking choir of angels.
"How was your first week of work? Are the kids little assholes?"
"No!" she protests, and then those dimples pop out again, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Maybe a little. They're very opinionated, and they speak a language I do not understand. I need a translator just to make sense of half the shit they say." She looks at me with wide eyes. "I never considered myself old until some kid told me that my outfit was giving mid vibes yesterday, and the class had to explain what that even meant. And now, I'm apparentlycheugy."
"What the fuck does that even mean?" I ask, laughing.
"I don't know!" she cries. "But I don't think it's a good thing, Noah."
"You aren'tcheugy. You're perfect."
Her eyes widen, her lips parting slightly.
Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I don't want to send her running when this is precisely where I want her but fuck it. I'm not going to lie to her. She is perfect. So I don't take it back, try to downplay it, or laugh it off. I let it hang for a moment, just long enough for her to fully absorb the comment before I snag the remote from the table.
"You picked last time. It's my turn."
She blinks like she's just coming back to herself, her gaze falling to the remote in my hand. "Oh. I guess we're watchingTiger Kingthen."
"No, you smartass. We aren't watching fuckingTiger King." I eye her sideways. "What is it with you and Joe Exotic?"
There's no mistaking the hilarity in her expression when she looks at me with those dimples out in full force. "So, you have watched it!" she cries, as if she's just learned my deepest, darkest secret.
"Maybe," I mutter, earning another bright peal of laughter from her. It's fucking worth it, especially after the conversation about her dad. Elsie Cameron wasn't made for grief and sadness. She was meant for laughter.
I flip on the television before scrolling to Netflix and starting the next episode ofBreaking Bad.
"A cop watching a show about a meth-dealing teacher, huh?" she teases, peeking over at me. "Interesting. I bet a shrink would have a field day with you, Noah Kirk."
I grin, shaking my head. "Watch the show, smartass."
An hour later, thelocksmith finally shows up. It takes him all of fifteen minutes to get her back inside her house. I linger for several minutes after he's gone, reluctant to head back to my place. It feels warmer with her there.
"So…" she says, "looks like you're no longer stuck with me."
"Looks like it." I lean against the doorframe. "You going to keep your windows locked from now on?"
