Page 40 of Playing With Danger

“What I meant to say?—”

“You said what you meant,” he interrupted. “Is this you thinking you’re being kinda bitchy or is this edging straight to bitchy?”

My back shot straight.

“That wasn’t nice,” I snapped.

“Neither was you implying me asking you to shoot a game of pool and buying you a drink an offer of pity instead of what it was.”

I really wanted to ask him what “it” was but I was too chickenshit.

“I think I’m gonna start my…” Thankfully I stopped speaking.

Regrettably, Valentine hadn’t developed a rare case of temporary hearing loss and he chuckled.

“Uber over and come shoot some pool and have a drink. I’ll get you home later.”

I had no choice but to say yes or sound like a screaming bitch and a shrew.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

God, he sounded…happy.

Down, Sophie. He’s just being nice.

He’s a friend.

A super sexy Hot Cop friend.

Nothing more.

“Yeah. And sorry for being kinda bitchy.”

“No worries, baby. See you soon.”

He disconnected.

I stared at my phone thinking I should feel relief that Ackerman guy was behind bars. And I did, but I’d barely given it more than a passing thought when I was more taken with Valentine’s concern. I also should’ve called Hayden. But I didn’t. I texted him, like the chickenshit coward I was.

Sorry. I don’t know why I was so bitchy.

I had ordered an Uber and was putting on my wedges when Hayden texted back.

No worries, Huxley. And I know why.

See?

Friends argued then they apologized and moved on.

I was at the front door when I paused to text back.

Code Red inbound.

I’d have to check my calendar but I think that’s in two weeks and you’re never grouchy this early.

I laughed at that.

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