“I feel sorry for the boys in your high school. It must have been painful when they realized you’d rather hang with a rock than go out with them.”
Was he flirting with her?
Hell, yeah, he was.
Sasha laughed—then grabbed her side, pain contorting her face. “Ow!”
“Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have made you laugh.”
Just then, a server brought their meals—a jalapeño burger with fries for Darius and a taco salad for Sasha.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thanks.” Then Sasha looked up. “What are you doing out from behind the bar, Marcia?”
The woman shrugged. “Just helping.”
Still holding her side, Sasha watched Marcia walk away, an amused look on her face. “She wasn’t helping. She brought the food so she could check you out.”
But Darius was more concerned about Sasha. “Are you okay?”
“I only took one pill when you were there today, and I haven’t had anything since. And that was before noon.”
That was almost eight hours ago.
“What do you say we get boxes and take the food back to your place?” Darius knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You can take your meds and get some relief.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll be right back.” Darius got to his feet and went to get boxes.
He knew he was close to crossing a line, but right now, he didn’t care.
Chapter11
By the timethey’d finished eating, the oxy Sasha had taken was starting to kick in, the pain in her ribs and wrist fading.
Darius stood. “I’ll clean up. You make yourself comfortable.”
“Thanks.” She settled on one end of the sofa, picking up the conversation where they’d left off. “So, your family moved to Arizona when you were ten?”
Darius cleared the table and sorted the recycling from the trash. “It was a big change from upstate New York. No snow. No trees in our yard. Hot, dry summers. My brothers and I played outside more often in the winter.”
Sasha could believe that. “With a history professor for a father and a music teacher for a mother, you and your brothers must be smart.”
“Oh, we are.” He chuckled. “Just ask us. We certainly had interesting conversations around the dinner table. By the time I started kindergarten, I probably knew more about the fall of Rome than most adults.”
Sasha tried to imagine a precocious five-year-old Darius talking about ancient Rome and found herself smiling. “Were your parents supportive of your desire to become a police detective?”
Darius washed and dried his hands and sat on the other end of the sofa, seeming to dominate the space. “I majored in bio-chem at Tempe my first year, then switched to criminal justice and information technology at the University of Northern Colorado in my sophomore year. Law enforcement wasn’t what they’d wanted for me, but they understood.”
“Bio-chem was my major, too. Cornell. How did you end up in LA?”
“Cornell? Fancy. A position came open, and I had the skills they—”
A loudthunkcame from outside on her deck.
Darius was on his feet in a blink. He moved quickly toward her sliding glass door and peeked through the blinds.
