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The Brothers Next Door

Page 12

by Terry Towers

That wasn’t that.

In the past three days, I’d run into Nate two more times and each time I was greeted with cold indifference. Each instance pissed me off more than the last. Next time, I swore to myself that he’d get a piece of my mind. Sure, I may have been a one-night stand but would it have killed him to say hello?

Struggling with two brown bags of groceries from the corner store, I pressed the elevator button for my floor and rode the way up. When the doors slid open it revealed Nate in full uniform. He stepped aside as I exited.

Not even giving him the satisfaction of a glance, I lifted my chin and strode past him. I’d give him a piece of my mind—next time.

“Whoa, what’s with the cold shoulder?” I heard him call after me, followed by footsteps rushing to catch up.

I was so shocked by him talking to me, I stumbled over my own feet. Luckily, a strong hand shot out and steadied me before we had an accident which would have included spilt milk and broken eggs.

Spinning to face him, my brow creased as I looked up into his handsome face. “Excuse me?”

He laughed. “I’m Nate. You remember me, right? From Saturday night…” He looked genuinely confused and hurt that I hadn’t acknowledged him. Well good, he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

“I know who you are. What do you want?”

He hesitated a moment his smile faltering, but then his smile returned. “Look, if you’re upset over the note, I apologize. I had an early shift and didn’t want to wake you. We had a long night. I got home and realized I’d forgotten to get your number. I went back to your apartment yesterday and I was told you’d moved out.”

I shrugged. “It was a one-night stand. No strings attached. You were very specific on that. So, whatever.” The man had nerve.

He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, a crack appearing in his demeanor. “How about we start over. Maybe actually get to know each other a little better.”

As much as I was angry with him, I felt the need to give him the benefit of the doubt. Call it the doormat in me…

“Let me take you to dinner.” He pulled out a pen from his pocket and jotted his phone number on the brown paper bag I was carrying. “Call me, or text me. Whichever. Pick your poison.”

“Okay…” I was still a little shell-shocked at what was going down right now. This man was like Jekyll and Hyde, which wasn’t a good sign. But he was a cop, so that should account for something. Cops could be psychos too, a voice in the back of my mind chimed in.

He looked down at his watch and gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m in a rush and gotta go.”

“Uh-huh.”

I watched him enter the elevator and the doors closed behind him. He gave me a wink a second before the doors met.

I looked down at the phone number he’d jotted down along with his name, as if I’d forgotten. What in the fuck just happened? I stood in the hallway another moment, before giving my head a shake and going to my apartment.

Would I call him? I wasn’t sure. A part of me certainly wanted to, but I was going to have to have a stiff drink and then give it some thought. No matter how sexy and charming he was, I couldn’t dismiss the fact that he’d been avoiding me like the plague the past couple of days, not even giving me the courtesy of polite conversation in passing.

Maybe he had a reasonable explanation?