I probably shouldn’t have… no, Idefinitelyshouldn’t have. Not after Pip sniped our moment the last time he was here.
If it even was a moment anyway. Maybe I was imagining it.
But as I unlock my door to let him in, my first thought is again, that I shouldn’t have done this.
Until I see him standing there with that crisp button-up tugging over his annoyingly muscly arms and realize that I’m glad that I did. And those slacks hugging a little too tightly on his thighs? Ugh. And then there’s… where the fuck is his badge?
“You took off your badge?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
He pats his pants pocket. I finally notice the, now very obvious, bulge. “Figured I shouldn’t be showing it off coming inand out of your building. Don’t want anyone getting any ideas about you.”
There’s that protectiveness again that makes my insides spiral. And hopefully enough to deflate my lingering concern about that since Jett pushed it earlier.
Before I can protest it or tell him that I’d been thinking about the same thing, he pulls it out and clips it back on his belt.
Much. Fucking. Better.
“You’re quiet,” Alex says as he walks in, pushing the door closed behind him.
But I just spoke? “Long day,” I reply automatically. Not entirely a lie. Just not the whole truth. It was a long day because I kept thinking about him.
Pip greets him like he’s been completely alone for weeks, even though I’ve been home for hours. He weaves between Alex’s legs as I cross my arms and glare at him.
“I thought I was your favorite human, Pip?”
Alex lets out a little chuckle as I break away from the sight and head to the couch, sinking into it. I didn’t turn on the main light as the evening descended, just the small lamp by the couch. It’s softer, dimmer, and feels safer because it emits less light in here that anyone outside might see.
Alex doesn’t sit down right away. He watches, taking in the space, even though he’s seen it twice now. His eyes glide from the windows to the door… to me.
“You always do that?” I ask as Pip joins me on the couch, curling up on the armrest.
“Do what?”
“Case the room like you’re expecting trouble.”
A moment goes by. “Yes.”
At least he’s honest.
“Must be exhausting.”
His gaze lingers on me. “You get used to it.”
I think I get it; I do the same thing when I arrive on scene. Butallthe time?
There’s a pause, a heavy one. But he breaks it. “I need to tell you something.”
My stomach drops. Because that tone? Never good.
I straighten slightly. “Okay…”
He sits down on the couch, keeping just enough space between us that we’re not touching. Something I’m sure is done on purpose. Still close enough that I can feel the heat of him.
“I shouldn’t have come here the other night,” he admits.
That… wasn’t what I expected. I don’t know what I expected but it sure as hell wasn’t something that feels like a break-up before we’ve even gotten together.
“Because of the investigation?” I ask carefully.
