“Thanks.” I give a weak smile, relieved to have the attention off of me. I take a long drink of my beer and let myself observe rather than participate. I try to focus on the cozy ambiance of the bar rather than how much I hate social situations. The room is warm, filled with the low hum of conversation and classic rock playing on the jukebox. My anxiety fades as Liam continues to shield me with his body from the rest of the group.
After a few minutes, Liam asks, “How long were you with Atlanta PD?”
“Uh, five years.”
He frowns. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine. I joined the force back home in Florida when I was nineteen.”
He smiles. “So, we’re the same age.”
“Guess so.”
He sips his drink, swallows, and leans closer. “Chief said you had a decade of experience. So it was Florida before Atlanta.”
“Yep,” I say, trying not to notice how good he smells. “But I split those five years at two different stations.”
“I see.” He nods. “Then you decided to move to a bigger department in another state.”
“Yep.”
He studies me. “You didn’t feel sad leaving your home state?”
“Nope.” He obviously thinks that’s weird. Spending the day with him made it apparent he loves living in Golden Peak. It was also obvious anyone who knows him loves him. That’s not how it’s ever been for me.
“But you probably made friends with the people in Atlanta, right?” When I don’t respond, he adds, “You ever hang out off the clock with your partner back in Atlanta?”
“Not really.”
He raises his brows. “Never?”
I grimace. “I had a few different partners. My last partner worked with me for three years. I wasn’t close to any of them though.”
“Not even your last one?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“You seriously never got together after work for drinks?” He frowns. “Was that your choice or his?”
I’m surprised he’s being so nosy. He’s had a couple of tequila shots with his beer and his pupils are slightly dilated. I suspect that’s why he’s being more inquisitive. He was careful during our shift not to ask too many personal questions, but the alcohol must be loosening his tongue.
It must be loosening mine too because I admit, “Mostly his.”
“Really?” He wrinkles his brow.
I sigh. “Other than our job, we didn’t have much in common.”
“Do you keep in contact?”
With that backstabber? Hell, no.
I shake my head. “We don’t talk.”
“Three years partnered with the guy and you don’t talk?” His expression says that does not compute in his world. “Did something happen?”
I stiffen. I have no intention of going into detail about what made me leave Atlanta. I want a fresh start and telling everyone what happened will only hinder that. “Sometimes you just don’t click with a partner. Derek and I didn’t click.”
“Hmmm.” He watches me for a few seconds then asks, “How about us?”
