Page 40 of What We May Be

“Speaking for your superiors, you owe them a shitload of whisky.”

He tipped his face to the ceiling and laughed out loud, the warmth of it filling her office and waking the slumbering man behind them on the couch.

“Could you be any louder?” Trevor grumbled.

Sean twisted in his chair. “You said the same thing to me that first day on campus.”

Trevor straightened and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Because I could hear you and Charlie howling from halfway down the hall.”

Charlie remembered that day with the same kind of fondness Sean had just looked upon Trevor with. She’d been unpacking crates in Cal and Trevor’s dorm room when Sean had barged in. A dangerously high armload of boxes blocked his face and his view of the rolled rug in the middle of the floor. Racing across the room, she’d stretched out her arms and yelled for him to stop, but it was too late. Caught in the avalanche of falling boxes, she’d tumbled backward, headed for the floor, but at the last second, a strong arm banded around her waist and cushioned her fall.

Pinned beneath an attractive stranger with messy dark hair and bright blue eyes, she’d found herself at a loss for words. But only for a moment. Once she got her breath back, she smiled up at him and asked, “Anderson Hale?”

“Sean Hale. Leave my father out of it.” He’d raked those captivating eyes down her body, hotter than any fumbling high school fooling around she’d done with guys. When his eyes returned to hers, they were several shades darker, and a blinding white smile split his handsome face. “Or you can just refer to me as your future husband,” he’d declared with complete confidence.

The absolute arrogance of his statement had prompted her to respond with an equally absurd rebuttal. “I hope you like handcuffs.”

He’d growled playfully. “Kinky. I like it.”

“I’m your roommate’s sister, the other one’s best friend, and the police chief’s daughter,” she’d said. “Keep making ridiculous declarations and either they’ll beat the shit out of you or my dad will have you in cuffs.”

His eyes had widened comically. “Friend zone for you.”

“Probably the safest place for you,” she’d said, biting back laughter.

Sean hadn’t, laughing out loud, and then so had she, the two of them cracking up on the dorm room floor, which was exactly how Trevor had found them. Sean had stayed in that friend zone for almost a year, even as he’d become more with Trevor. But the following summer, before their sophomore year, they’d become more, all of them together, and four years later, Sean’s prediction had almost come true. And damn it all to hell, the disappointment that it hadn’t happened still stung.

Sean didn’t give her long to dwell on her lingering heartache. He shot out of his chair and stood in the middle of her office, sniffing the air like one of the K-9 shepherds. “Where’re the goods?”

“The goods?”

“Barbecue, fried chicken, and hush puppies if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not mistaken,” she replied, amused at his single-minded focus.

“Corner fridge,” Trevor said, and she shot him a glare for conspiring with the enemy. He waggled his brows at her. “I call a drumstick.”

Sean had the door of her mini-fridge open before she could stand. “This is perfect.” He settled back in the visitor chair with the bag of leftovers and jug of tea. “Mark this one off the list.”

“Do I even want to know what list you’re talking about?” Charlie asked.

He took a slug of tea straight from the jug and hummed in pleasure. “The Hanover gastronomical tour. Still need to hit Krispy Kreme, Bojangles, and find fried okra.”

“You said you were back in the States.” Trevor moved to the chair beside Sean and swiped the drumstick from the box in his lap. “Where are you, California?”

Sean choked on his tea, then recovered and split a glare between them. “It’s not the same, and you know it.” He popped two hush puppies into his mouth at once. “Really,” he mumbled around the mouthful of food. “I’m disappointed in both of you. Bad, bad Southerners.”

Charlie tossed a stack of napkins at each of them to hide her smile. “I was saving that for tomorrow. It’ll be a miracle if there’s any left.”

“I’ll tell you what’ll be a miracle,” came a third voice, and Charlie looked beyond Sean and Trevor to Jaylen standing in her doorway. The officer’s step faltered at seeing Trevor there, and Diego, behind him, nearly ran into his back.

She waved them both in. “It’s fine. He’s read in,” she said. “Now, what’ll be a miracle?”

“If we can get a hold of Sarah Barnett’s phone records,” Jaylen said as he and Diego claimed the couch Trevor had vacated.

“She’s not cooperating?” Sean asked, setting aside his food.

Diego ran a hand through his hair. “She’s willing to cooperate.”

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