Page 105 of Detectives in Love
But I don’t get a chance to look at Xavier—he’s already rolled away, buried under the comforter, the warmth of his legs no longer tangled with mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask with a chuckle, but all I get is a noncommittal grunt from under the covers.
“I’ll go make coffee,” I say, starting to push myself up. But before I can move, a fever-warm arm wraps around my waist, holding me there.
I freeze. My brain short-circuits. My body, of course, picks this moment to betray me—skin buzzing, cock twitching like I’m some horny idiot in a teenage romcom.
“Xavier,” I breathe, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “I’ll go make coffee, okay?”
My voice cracks on the last word, and I instantly hate myself for it. I don’t even know what I’m asking anymore—permission? Forgiveness? A little mercy?
“Don’t move,” Xavier mutters from under the comforter.
And that’s it. I go completely fucking pliant.
Because of course—this is my life now: being spooned by my feverish, emotionally unavailable work partner I’m stupidly in love with, while trying not to pop a boner. Totally normal.
Luckily, that’s when the bed buzzes between us. One of our phones. I reach under the covers, groping around blindly, until I realize—it’s under Xavier.
There’s a brief, deeply awkward moment where I accidentally graze his thigh before yanking the phone free.
Willand. I press accept.
“Yes?” I mutter.
“Hi?” Willand’s voice comes through.
“Sam? Hi.”
“Newt? Is that you?” he asks, sounding a little surprised.
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I missed your calls.”
There’s a pause. Then: “I was actually trying to reach Xavier. Is he there?”
I freeze. Slowly, I pull the phone away from my ear—and yeah. Of course. I grabbedhisphone.
Shit.
“Yeah,” I say quickly, glancing at the lump under the covers. “He’s just not feeling great.”
“Tell him I need him at the station. ASAP. No excuses.”
“Did something happen?” I ask, frowning—though I already have a pretty good idea. A cold weight settles in my stomach.
Willand pauses. Then he says, “He’s in trouble, Newt. Real trouble. And I don’t think he’s getting out of it this time. If he doesn’t show up himself, I’ll have to send officers.”
“Send officers? What the hell is going on?”
“Rishetor called,” Willand says. “Xavier broke into their labs last night. Illegally. They’re pressing charges.”
I freeze, my insides turning to ice.
“Did you know about this?” Willand asks. “About the break-in.”
“Not till earlier today,” I say, because technically, that’s true. “How bad is it?”
“Pretty damn bad,” Willand says, though his voice softens a little. “Mr. Rishetor is back from his vacation and he’s pissed. So please let Xavier know, will you? He has some explaining to do.”
