I glance at the officer behind me.
“Normally, you’d be in the cells,” he says, “but the police chief’s on his way. He’s a huge fan and told me to put you in our break room. Everyone’s eager to meet you.”
A small smile tugs at my lips. “Thanks, officer. I appreciate that.”
“I saw your game tonight,” he says, shaking his head. “Man, you did good. That last kick—nearly gave me a heart attack.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Me too.”
Chapter Three
Olivia
PR Specialist for the Dakota Dragons
The Dakota Dragons play hard and party harder. All of themexceptCarter Storm. He’s the guy everyone looks up to. The guy the coach and the owner want the rest of the team to emulate.
Light spills across the bathroom tiles as I flick the switch on. The shower hisses to life, steam curling upward while the phone rings in my hand. Ralph, the team’s lawyer, picks up on the second ring. Older, sharp, and loyal, he guards the team like a dragon guards its hoard.
“Who is it now?” he grumbles.
“And good evening to you too, Ralph.”
“Olivia, just cut to the chase. Who is it?”
“Carter Storm.”
A sharp huff bursts through the line. “And pigs fucking fly.”
“He called me himself. I’m jumping in the shower, then meeting you at the Ninth Street police station.”
Ralph makes a tutting sound. “Well, I never thought I’d see the day. What’s the charge?”
Shit.
Didn’t even ask, I was too stunned.
“We’ll find out when we get there.”
“I thought he was one of the good ones. See you in half an hour.”
Me too.
The words stay trapped behind clenched teeth. At least Ralph didn’t lose his shit over the fact I forgot to ask what Carter got arrested for.
The shower’s more about waking up than getting clean. Some women can roll out of bed and dive straight into their day, but that’s not me. Warm water beats against my skin, chasing away the last threads of sleep. A quick scrub, a rinse, and a triple face wash later, at least Ilookawake. At this hour, makeup and hair aren’t worth the effort. A towel takes care of the worst of the damp before my hair’s pulled into a ponytail. Jeans, sandshoes, and a T-shirt finish the job.
I’m out the door and behind the wheel within ten minutes, the city is still half-asleep. Early hours mean blessedly light traffic, and fifteen minutes later, the car slides into a no-parking zone in front of the police station.
Climbing out, I spy Ralph’s car and head for the entrance of the police station. A wolf whistle slices through the quiet. My middle finger answers before I even glance up.
“Aw, come on, Olivia. Is that any way to treat an officer of the law?”
“Bite me, Carlos.”
“You know, one day I just might.” His chuckle rumbles as he strolls closer, badge glinting under the streetlight. “You can’t park there, you know.”
“Is Ralph inside?”
