Page 18 of Beauty and the Cop
"You little coward," Alice says, laughing at me. "You're afraid to tell him!"
"Obviously." I start dumping ingredients into a mixing bowl. "If I tell him, it'll make things weird. He'll stop coming over or inviting me over. And eventually, we'll do that thing neighbors do when they run into each other and are forced to interact, but it's awkward. No, thanks."
"So, you have it all figured out, huh?"
"Yep."
"A man doesn't spend all his free time with someone if he isn't interested, Elsie."
"He might."
"Coward."
She isn't wrong. I am a coward. But…he's my only real friend in this city. He's also quickly becoming something that feels vital to my life, like the piece that's been missing for so long. I donotwant to screw it up by confessing that I'm falling for him, especially if he doesn't feel the same way. That'll just make it awkward.
I'd rather die of sexual frustration first.
"What are these?" Iask two hours later, pointing at the coin display in Noah's bookcase. I've seen the display several times already, but I've never taken the time to actually look at the coins. They're all police department-related.
"Challenge coins." He saunters across his living room toward me, a beer in his hands and a soft smile on his lips. "I've been collecting them since I went to the Academy."
"What are they? I mean, obviously they're coins, but what's the purpose?"
"No one really knows where the concept started," he murmurs, stopping so close I smell his cologne. I want to bury my face in his chest and stay there. But I don't. "But during World War I, an Army lieutenant gave coins to his unit to commemorate their service. It caught on from there. Most police departments,military, fire departments, hell, even sports teams have their own coins."
"You have a lot of them."
"Yeah." He grins over at me. "I was given my first one when I was a cadet. I've been collecting them ever since. People give them to us on the streets sometimes to say thanks. I always hang on to them. They're a reminder that, even when this shit seems thankless, there's a reason I do it."
"What's your reason?"
"Because it matters," he says, his voice soft. "Because people who can't fight for themselves need someone willing to fight for them. I like being that guy who helps speak for victims who can no longer speak for themselves. I like going to bed at night, knowing what I did made a difference."
"I love that." I smile up at him. "That's why I teach. I mean, it's not the same thing as what you do, but I like knowing that I'm making a difference in a way that matters. These kids will be cops and doctors and lawyers one day. I want them to have the best chance possible. Being part of that feels so much bigger than just standing in front of a blackboard every day, hoping no one crashes out on me, you know?"
"You're so fucking sweet, Dimples." He dips his head, grinning at me. At least, it starts that way, but after a minute, his grin slips, and he's just staring at me with this…look. I can't even read it, but it's deep and warm and so damn perfect. The air between us goes electric. The tension is so damn thick I feel it.
He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek, and my whole body ignites.
I sway closer, convinced this is it. This is the moment hefinallykisses me.
Except Baby Jesus hates me, so, of course, it doesn't work out that way. The shrill ring of his phone pierces the moment, splintering it into a million little pieces.
Noah clears his throat abruptly and steps back, muttering a curse.
I stay right there for a long moment, trying to convince myself that launching his phone into Lake Michigan isn't actually a rational thing to do. I mean, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, it's just a bad plan all around. I'd probably fall in by accident.
"Fuck me," he growls a moment later, glancing at his phone. "I gotta go, Dimples."
I turn to face him, my heart sinking. I know that tone. After spending the last two weeks with him, of course, I know that tone. Crime never sleeps.
"You're being called out?"
"Yeah." He scrubs a hand through his hair. "We're needed at a scene."
"I'm sorry."
"Me too." He stares at me for a moment like he wants to say something, and then just shakes his head. "I'll walk you back to your place."
