"Do tell," Jen said as she leaned in but before she could tell her about their bathroom camaraderie, she saw out of the corner of her eye a large hand resting on the bartop a few stools down and felt something like tiny tapping fingers along the back of her neck. Her body froze. There was a gold signet ring that she recognized, had run her thumb over many times. But when she looked up the body that belonged to that hand was walking away, the broad back covered in a sports jacket familiar, the head of hair shorter and thinner but she was certain she knew that intimately too.
She jumped off of her stool and started toward the disappearing figure ignoring her name being called by the girls as she pushed her way through the thick crowd trying to get to the bar for libations. She wasn't thinking, only moving on adrenaline and need. She needed to see his face. She needed to face him.
He was pressing through the pack easier than her with his size and fortitude, something she remembered well. He was one of those men who somewhere along the way had been taught not to adhere to rules, to being toldno. And his size only helped him in that regard.
She was getting closer. She could smell him. The spice of cologne was too much spice, hitting her nose like pinpricks. Hersenses were on high alert and that tingling was stronger, more intense, until he disappeared out a black metal door into the alley. She followed without thought, without concern because of the need that was driving her.
When she burst into the alley, dark and smelling of wet concrete that had never seen the sun, she looked around frantically. Three cats were in various states of cleaning, eating or sleeping. And no large man with a gold signet ring was walking in either direction.
Her heart was beating a familiar beat as she allowed the adrenaline to pulse through her and then she heard her name being called, deeper and more forceful than her girlfriends. She whipped around to see Taylor standing in the doorway, the lights behind him outlining his frame as he held open the door with a strong arm, his eyes on her focused and intense.
"Eloise, what are you doing?"
"Um," she licked her lips and looked around again. Still nothing. She looked back at a frowning Taylor, his eyes sharp and his body held at attention. "Nothing. Just getting some fresh air," she explained.
His expression said he didn't believe her. "Come inside," he said.
Her brows pinched. "I'm sorry, I do not remember giving you permission to tell me what to do." Her words were aimed and they hit true when she watched as his head pulled back the slightest.
"I apologize. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm simply trying to get you out of a dark alley, alone, that has seen its share of crime and has no cameras despite multiple attempts to have the owner get them installed." His voice had gentled and his posture, while still strongly alert, had relaxed by a degree.
"Sorry, I just needed air. I should probably get home actually. This is late for me," she tried to laugh but it got stuck in her throat.
"I'll walk you home," he said as she was about to walk into the doorway he was holding open. She paused in the doorway where his body stood.
"I'm fine."
"Eloise," he said in warning. His voice was low and vibrated through the space that seemed much smaller suddenly than it had looked. His chest was close to hers. His heat was a flowing energy she felt lapping against her skin and her senses, and more than calming there was something far more potent.
She paused and looked up at him. "You have a date. Wouldn't want her abandoned."
She watched the battle in his eyes but as he was about to say something she brushed past him, closing her eyes against the soft touch of his hand brushing against the warm skin of her exposed back, the smell of him washing over her. She tried to shrug it off as she made her way to her friends without pause and without sparing him a glance. She knew without looking that he was watching her. She could feel it, smell it in the unique essence that lingered around her shoulders and down her arms. She felt dressed in him, his protectiveness, and wanted to scream at her warring desires to go back and curl into him, but also wanting to keep him at a safe distance.
She found the girls dancing, drinks in their hands held high, smiling and sweating and enjoying being together and alive.
She leaned into Jen when she bent her head down to her mouth and told her she was going to head home and not to worry, because Jen gave her that look. With convincing words and a noncommittal nod when Jen asked her to promise to get a cab, she left them to dance.
But really, she wanted to walk in the sliver of moonlight like she was now, with her high heels cradled in the crook of her arm and her long hair, less bouncy than when they arrived, slightly damp at her temples, the ends brushing across her bare back. She drank in the cool air, letting its freshness saturate her lungs.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She whipped around, mouth open and hand to her chest at the deep voice.
"You should not sneak up on people! You're a police officer. That hasgotto be in policing 101."
He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head. "We actually spend a good amount of time learning how to sneak up on people. Why, do you have a weapon on you?"
"Maybe," she tilted her chin up defiantly.
His unsure look made her want to smile. "I actually do feel compelled to confirm that you do not have a weapon."
She rolled her eyes. "No. Other than my mind and wit which are razor sharp."
His lips pulled up on one side, the smirk pulling up one side of her heart. Why couldn't her stubborn heart listen?
"Why are you walking alone at night when there could very possibly be a man out here waiting for this kind of opportunity?"
And it hit her. He was right. She had been focused on escaping the emotions roiling through her from seeing Taylor.
