Page 17 of Beauty and the Cop
"What is that sound?" Alice asks, her voice rife with suspicion when I drop a cookie sheet on the counter.
"What sound?" I cringe when I accidentally drop another one on top of it.
"That sound!" she cries. "Oh my god. Are you baking for Mr. Mafia again?"
"What? No." A lie of self-preservation isn't really a lie. It's a carefully crafted delusion meant to make me feel better about myself.Notthe same thing.
I doubt Alice will agree, however. She's been teasing me relentlessly about Noah since we started hanging out damn near every day.
I probably should stop telling her the lurid details of my sex dreams. They're only fueling her amusement.
I can't help it, though! Every day, he knocks on my door, looking like sex on legs, smirking like he'd rather eat me than anything else, and my mind goes to places that definitely aren't friendly.
I don't even know how we ended up in this weird friendzone to begin with, not when I want to jump him every time I see him.
He looks at me like he wants the same thing, but aside from kissing me on the cheek every night before we part ways, he never makes a move.
It's driving me nuts!
My vagina is being held hostage by the friendzone. He's a cop. Surely, he should be fixing the issue by arresting reality, right?
I may have to resort to drastic measures, like standing naked in front of the window with a sign that says, "Wanna fuck our way out of the friendzone?" I mean, that's probably not a good idea because we have other neighbors, but… Yeah, no. It's a terrible idea.
"Elsie Jean Cameron," Alice drawls. "You're baking for Noah again!"
"It's a sickness. I can't stop." I groan, burying my face in my hands. "I think I need an intervention."
"Uh, no. You need to get laid."
"Obviously. He had me plastered up against the door last night in my dreams. I was in handcuffs, Alice.Handcuffs." I whimper at the memory of the dream. I never even knew I had a fantasy about being restrained. Apparently, I have a lot of them. Who knew?
"You know, you could solve your problem by telling him that you're into him. Then you can stop being Betty Fucking Crocker over there, get laid for real, and have cute little cop babies."
"Who said anything about babies?" I squeak, peeling my hands from my face.
"Oh, please." She laughs hysterically. "You're dying to have his babies."
"Am not." Again, not a lie. A carefully crafted delusion.
"Uh-huh. So, out of curiosity," she says, "what would you name a baby?"
"Nina, if it's a girl. Lincoln, if it's a boy."
"Uh-huh." I hear her smugness practically dripping down the line and realize I fell right into her trap. Again.Dammit."You have it so bad."
"So bad," I whisper, not even trying to deny it. Noah is…amazing. He can be so bossy sometimes, but it's always in the sweetest, most protective ways. He's also funny as hell, kind, and considerate. He's one of those people who actually enjoys helping people.
The man was born to be a cop. He just has this air of authority about him, but he never abuses it. He genuinely just wants to do the right thing.
Every time we spend time together, I find a new reason to obsess over him. Like last night, when he told me that, even if he had been good enough to play hockey professionally like his brother, he wouldn't have done it because that was never his dream. It just paid for college so he could follow his dream without his education costing his parents a fortune. I love that he knows what he wants.
In my experience, most people don't have a clue what they want. They just make it up as they go along and hope something sticks. Not Noah.
I love that.
"Are you going to tell him?" Alice asks.
I pull the phone away from my ear to gape at it. "Uh, have you lost it? I'm absolutely not going to tell him!" I shudder in horror at the very thought. "I'm going to bake for him until he realizes that he's in love with me, or until he falls in love with someone else and breaks my heart. You know, like a sane person."
