Except a shitload of upset sorority girls. Someone is off sobbing in one corner, and someone else is still demanding to know the whereabouts of her purses.
It’s Melissa. She’s super emotional when she’s been drinking.Andshe loves her purses.
See? I can be a detective too.
Thatcher taps his pencil against his notebook. “I never said that.”
He didn’t imply it either. But now that I’ve said it out loud, I can’t shake the thought that whatever happened upstairsisconnected.
Not to the Rain Dance, like Thatcher so carefully didn’t imply.
Tome.
Not because, as Kai dramatically stated, I think the world revolves around me, but because what are the chances thisdoesn’thave something to do with me and Kai?
I did force him to suck Professor Rooke’s dick. At gunpoint. I didn’t accept his measly apology. And I didn’t stop Melissa warding him off with pepper spray.
The way he’s been looking at me this week—like he soaked me in gasoline and now his lighter doesn’t want to work—made it very hard to keep calm and carry on.
It would be totally understandable if he’s feeling a teensy bit…resentful.
My gaze snaps back to the cop. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, like he can read my mind.
Thank God that’s not possible.
When he just keeps staring expectantly at me, I give my arm a nervous scratch. My damp, itchy skin suddenly feels two sizes too small.
“Can I go now?”
“Look, Miss Lee, there’s no need to be cagey. I don’t care how much you had to drink tonight, or if you took any other substances…” He locks his legs, looking like he can stand that way for hours if he has to. “I’m just after the facts of this case.”
Now it’s acase?
I swoon, scrunching up my face, and wishing I could produce tears on the spot. “You know, I’m not feeling all that great. The booze, the excitement…”
He’s nonplussed. “I just have a few more?—”
“Look, Officer Thatcher?—”
“Deputy.”
“—Deputy Officer Thatcher, unless you want me puking on your nice shiny shoes, then?—”
“Ugh!” Melissa appears at my side, glaring at Deputy Thatcher. “Yourfriendwon’t tell me anything! He just keeps saying we can’t go upstairs.” She runs her hands over her hair, grimacing. Like mine, it’s starting to frizz. Guess there’s not enough product or flat ironing in the world to combat this rain. “I need to check on my things!”
She pauses, hands still on her hair, and eyes the deputy up and down. “Damn. You’re fucking hot.” She gives me a filthy,lopsided smile. “He’s hot, right?” Her face clears. “Or’m I just really drunk?”
I purse my lips, wiggling my hand. “Meh.”
Thatcher clears his throat, sending a terse smile her way before focusing on me again. “How about we pick this up tomorrow, Miss Lee? If you’d please give me your number, I can call to confirm your whereabouts?—“
“He wants your number!” Melissa stage-whispers loud enough that a dead-drunk girl propping herself up against the wall beside the front door squints over at us.
“Phone’s broken,” I say.
It’s notentirelya lie. My phone is in pieces. No one knows about the one Bastian gave me.
“Oh, yeah.” Melissa nods sagely. “It really is, Officer.” That dirty smile crawls back onto her mouth. “Howabout I give youmynumber…?”
