It was out before she could second-guess herself, and she instantly wished she could stuff the words back down. Erin didn’t flinch, though. If anything, a hint of surprise tugged at her mouth before it curved into something Jamie couldn’t quite name.
“Yeah,” Erin said simply. “I’d love to.”
She gave Jamie one last look before heading toward the exit, the sound of her boots fading down the hall. Jamie let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her pulse still racing.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Jamie turned. Tilly stood a few feet away, camera slung at their side, mouth tight.
“What?” Jamie asked, already defensive.
Tilly didn’t answer right away. They just shook their head, muttering something too low to catch, before brushing past her.
By the time they reached the car, Jamie could feel the storm brewing. Tilly yanked open the driver’s side door, tossed the camera bag into the back seat, and slid in with a kind of energy that dared Jamie to test them.
The drive started quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space. But it didn’t last.
“You really think this is a good idea?” Tilly snapped, eyes locked on the road.
Jamie blinked. “What?”
Tilly let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t play innocent. Drinks with Calhoun? After hours? Sure, that’ll end well.”
Jamie’s stomach dropped. “It’s not like that.”
“Please.” Tilly’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “She’s not your friend, Jamie. She’s a cop. A cop who only talks to reporters when it benefits her. And you’re eating it up like… like you don’t see the game she’s playing.”
Jamie bristled, heat rising in her chest. “You don’t even know her.”
That made Tilly laugh, short and sharp. “Neither do you!”
Jamie whipped around in her seat, glare meeting theirs. “Well, excuse me for going off what I actually see. Since you’d rather play mystery games and not tell me anything, that’s all I’ve got to work with.”
Tilly’s grip on the wheel tightened, tendons straining, but their voice cut sharp. “What you see isn’t the whole story, Jamie. You think you’ve got her figured out because she smiled at you a couple times? Because she answers your texts? You don’t know what she’s like when the cameras aren’t rolling, when the shine wears off.”
Jamie blinked, caught off guard by the venom. “Then tell me,” she shot back, pulse spiking. “If you know something, if she’s so terrible, then tell me what it is.”
Tilly’s jaw clenched. For a second Jamie thought they might finally give her the truth. But then Tilly shook their head, a humorless smile tugging at their mouth. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
The words landed like the slam of a door. Jamie looked away, pressing her lips together to keep from saying something she couldn’t take back.
Jamie didn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. She couldn’t. Herthroat felt tight, her chest tighter, and every mile of silence seemed to press the argument deeper instead of letting it drift away. When Tilly pulled into the station lot, they didn’t look at her — not a goodbye, not even a quick glance — just grabbed the camera bag and walked off like the air between them wasn’t still buzzing.
Jamie stood there for a beat, hands useless at her sides, trying to tell herself she didn’t care. But she did. And the worst part was she couldn’t even make sense of what the fight had beenabout.
She swallowed hard, pushed the feeling down, and headed to the bar anyway.
* * *
Jamie sat at a corner table, her jacket draped over the back of the chair, one hand worrying at the label of her beer bottle until it came away in damp shreds. She’d told herself this wasn’t a date, just two professionals grabbing a drink after a long day. But the longer she sat, the louder that little voice in her head got.
Every time the door opened, her pulse jumped, only to crash when it wasn’t Erin. She hated that. She hated how invested she suddenly felt in seeing her walk through the door, like it mattered too much already.
She checked her phone, even though she knew Erin wasn’t late. The screen glowed back at her with nothing new. She almost ordered another beer just to have something to do with her hands, but stopped, worrying it would look like she was trying too hard.
Jamie shifted in her seat, picking another strip from the bottle until it curled under her nail. She told herself she could leave, that it wouldn’t mean anything if she just slipped out before Erin showed up. But her legs stayed rooted to the floor.
She tried to focus on the TV over the bar, the muted basketball game playing to a crowd that didn’t care, but her thoughts kept circling back to Erin. To how easily she’d laughed on the phone. To the way the uniform seemed to sharpen every line of her posture, and how quickly that confidence had cracked whenshe checked on the restaurant owner, or when she talked about the runaway teen. That crack had stayed with Jamie. It had felt real, unguarded.
