I hide my cringe well because Nix is anything but ‘friendly’. “I’ll remember that.” I need to get him out of this apartment before he learns that I’m attracted to him, so instead of dragging on the conversation by asking how Rochelle is, I head to the door and open it. “It’s late, and I have to get to bed.”
He nods, sighs out, and crosses the room to the open door. When he reaches me, he pauses and looks into my eyes, and for a second, I wonder what secrets he finds in me. “Anything else I should know?”
I shake my head, not trusting my voice.
I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he leaves it lying and strides out the door. Over his shoulder, he says, “Call if you need me, and call when you have your next move. Don’t leave me in the dark, Charlie.”
And with that, I shut the door, turn, and lean my back against it. I run my fingers through my wet hair, a little disgusted with myself that I didn’t tell him that I’m attracted to Feenix. Doing so would mean I’m already in too deep. Doing so would get me yanked. Doing so would put an end to proving that I’m worthy of the badge, and I can’t have that. Iwon’taccept it.
No, I can keep this to myself. I can handle myself and this attraction, and this weird urge to protect Nix will come to an end. Right here, right now, because I will be the one to cuff him in the end just to prove my point.
Chapter Eleven
Feenix Blaylock
Through the dark rain clouds, the waning sun fights to be seen, and the wind pushes the rain at an uncomfortable angle for anyone who has to walk in it. The sky opened up mere minutes after I stepped into this restaurant, and I’m grateful I hadn’t been caught in it. I don’t like my Converse to get wet.
I toy with the edge of my menu, curling the page and not giving a shit if this expensive place dislikes that I’m ruining it. I come here enough that they won’t say anything. At least, not to my face.
Lifting my wrist, I check my watch for the fifth time since I got here. Noll is late per usual. I’m supposed to meet with him, but I have half a mind to walk out. I know I won’t because he’s my childhood best friend, but I fantasize about it for a few seconds.
We’re polar opposites, Noll as the good person, and me . . . not a good person. We’ve grown apart, but for someodd reason, we refuse to give up on one another. We’re all we have left of a life of innocence.
In truth, maybe it’s just me holding onto the innocence because the past is all I have left of it. After all, I’m the one who schedules these get-togethers. That’s how our relationship works. He texts; I rarely answer. I much prefer the face-to-face, so I schedule the dinners instead of responding to his questions:How’s life? How you doing today? How ya holding up?
He always checks on me, especially around this time of year – the time that I’ll never get over and the person I’ll never forget.
“Can I get you another whiskey?” the waiter asks when he approaches.
I refrain from lashing out in frustration and nod instead. It’ll be my third whiskey, and that fact annoys me because I wouldn’t be drinking my night away if Noll had just shown up on time.
The waiter bows his head and scurries off. Noll will come; it’s just a matter of how long he makes me wait.
The whiskey shows up at my elbow, the waiter disappears to another table, and I watch at least four other couples enter the restaurant before Noll finally steps inside. If he were any other person, they’d be praying for peace for making me wait. But it’s Noll, and Noll will never receive my wrath.
He has an umbrella that he shakes free just inside the door, splattering the fine carpet with raindrops that the nearby table frowns at. As he folds the umbrella back up, his eyes catch mine, and a smile spreads across his lips.
Noll is about half a foot shorter than I am. His dark skin is a stark contrast to his bright white teeth. Full lips encase those teeth, and high cheekbones shine in the restaurant’s dim lights as he smiles. His head is clean-shaven, and his dark brown eyes always glitter with kindness.
He’s a better person than I am. It’ll be plain as day when he sits across from me. He always has been and always will be.
Like me, Noll isn’t married. He has no kids, no girlfriend, no ‘someone’ special in his life. He’s married to his career. It’s the only thing we have in common.
The hostess takes his rain jacket, revealing his white polo shirt and black slacks, and as soon as he’s free from what remains of the rain, he strides in my direction without being escorted. He’s not used to the rich life, and it shows by his mannerisms. He lives a simple, blue-collar life, and sometimes, I admire that about him. Everything seems so black and white to him when, really, the world is full of darker colors.
He sits down, and before he can even offer a greeting, our waiter is at his side, asking for his choice of drink. I almost grin when he asks for a beer, bottled. To his credit, the waiter doesn’t bat an eye, and he takes off to go fulfill Noll’s request.
“How have you been, Nix?” is the first thing Noll asks me.
I lift an eyebrow at him. “Did you have to make me wait for so long?”
His grin broadens, causing me to roll my eyes a little. “I like to make you sweat. That’ll never change.”
“Did you get hung up at work or something?”
“Something like that.” He picks up the menu and starts to skim what this place offers.
I take of sip of whiskey and swallow down the burn. “I don’t know why you look at that. You always order the same thing.”
