Page 63 of Junkyard Dog

His focused beeline through the crowd as Charlotte made her way out of the bar without a goodbye.

Hades passed the cell back to Bo and gave Alex a strange look. “We’ll be seeing you soon, boys.”

Waiting until the door slammed shut, he pulled out his phone and texted Charlotte.“Won’t be able to make it tonight.”

He finished a final wipe of the counter and rounded the bar, helping Bo to his feet and guiding him out of the lounge. “Nice pics.”

Bo smirked, flopping into the passenger seat and sliding his phone across the dash. “I was gonna show those to your little whatever-you-call-her Charlotte chick. But I figured I’d cover your ass with the boss-man instead.” He closed his eyes as Alex started the SUV. “I’m not too sure he or Seph would be too pleased knowing they were losing you to a human woman.”

Easing onto the road, he gave his brother a quick smile. “No one’s losing anyone.”

Except me.

“Whatever,” Bo grumbled, slinking into his seat in a futile attempt to get comfortable and reaching down to adjust the seat as he sprawled out. “Straight up. You aren’t, like, in love with this chick, right?”

“Make yourself useful and pass out or something.” He snorted, glancing at his silent phone.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Alex hung upthe phone and turned to Bo, his arms crossed. “Ryan’ll be here Sunday. He’s driving down, leaving on Friday night.” He tossed an outdated phonebook at his brother and began the hunt for his keys. “I might be back before you sober up enough to find a hotel for the two of you.”

He flew through the back streets, slamming on his brakes when he almost passed the turnoff to Charlotte’s apartment block.

He didn’t want to be here.

Two days and nights of phone tag.

Shift work that didn’t align.

Two early-morning stakeouts of the Pirithous.

He parked in a vacant corner of the lot and snatched his phone off the dash.

“We need to talk.”Charlotte’s last text, made at six that morning, sat at the top of his messages.

He’d never needed to talk. Never stuck around long enough to have to talk.

He buzzed Charlotte’s apartment and waited until the obnoxious system let him in the building, climbing the stairs slowly, his ribs still aching and his legs heavy.

He didn’t want to talk.

She stood in her open doorway, her damp hair leaving wet streaks on the gray police training shirt she had on.

And his favorite jeans. Her ass looked great in those jeans.

Pausing at her door, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hey.”

She was playing with the hem of her shirt, tugging the sleeves down over her thumbs as she stepped to the side to let him in. “Hey.”

The warmth he’d felt every time he’d entered Charlotte’s apartment was now uncomfortable and tense as she stepped into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around herself, examining the countertop with interest.

“I take it this is the talk,” he finally said, leaning against the kitchen entrance.

She took a deep breath. “Pretty much. I know we both agreed this was temporary, so I don’t know if we’re supposed to have the talk to make it official or something, but…”

His jaw flexed, a strange tightness forming in his chest. “What did Bo say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” she replied, her hands twisting inside the long sleeves of her shirt.

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