I scroll through my phone and dial Sam. The phone rings and rings.
I slam the phone down on the table. Within seconds, it starts ringing.
“This better be an emergency. I was just going in for pilates,” Sam says as soon as I pick up.
“It kind of is?”
“Then why are you calling from this number?” he asks, his voice all serious.
Shit, I need to get a grip. “No, don’t worry. Not that kind ofemergency,” I assure him.
“Ooh, you sound so worried. This must be so good,” he says.
Wait, why did I call Sam to be the voice of reason? Ugh, too late now. “Nicholas Harper asked me out for dinner.”
“Detective McHottie? I’m honestly not surprised,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“What? Why?”
“The guy has been into you for a while. I totally called it,” he says.
“How can you possibly know that?” I expected a lot of responses, but this is not even in the top one thousand.
“Elliot, you need to sit down,” he says carefully. “Are you sitting down?”
“Will you get on with it?”
“Elliot, I’m going to tell you something I’m surprised you didn’t know, and now it’s going to blow your mind,” he says dramatically. Why did I have to callhim?
“I’m one second away from hanging up,” I grumble.
“Calm down, bud. You just talk about hima lot. I can practically recite all your conversations,” he spits out.
“That’s stupid,” I dismiss it because it’s fucking stupid.
“I see you’re not ready for that conversation. My bad for trying to move the plot along.”
“I’ve never regretted calling you more than I do right now. I hope you know that. But here we are. Are you sure they’re not investigating any deaths? Maybe he’s onto something?” Something that can explain Mickey. Because that has been bugging me for days now.
“Yes, the last one is already ruled as a natural death. I checked the coroner’s report just a few days ago. It’s not that. But…”
“But what?”
“It won’t hurt to get closer to him to avoid future issues, too. No serial killer would be stupid enough to date a cop, you know,” he says helpfully.
I force down a groan. “Yes, Iknow,” I say dryly.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. Think about it. You can hang out with his cop friends. Build trust. That, with how careful we are, there’s almost a guarantee he’ll be on your side if people ever start looking closer,” he says.
My eyebrow goes up. “I don’t think it works that way,” I say finally.
“No, but c’mon. How else will you be sure he’s not onto something? And this is definitely not enough reason to pack up and leave. So, you can either learn more and course correct or sit with your thumb up your ass,” he says.
“Okay,thatmakes some sense.”
“Besides, when will you ever get a chance to fuck a werewolf. This will definitely help us understand them better, you know… biblically,” he says sagely.
I roll my eyes, but a slow heat spreads low in my stomach at the idea of those large and firm muscles laid out like the horniest breakfast buffet. I shake the picture out of my head. I’msoregretting this call. “Yeah, because lack of information on werewolves’ libido is what’s keeping us from truly making this work.”
