The problem is not that I think AJ will be cruel. Cruel would be easier.
The problem is that he was kind.
Careful.
Interested.
He kissed me awake because we had to get to the station, not because he wanted to escape before the morning became complicated.
And by the time I turn the shower off, cover the mark on my collarbone, and drink half a lukewarm cup of tea, I am professionally dressed, physically wrecked, and emotionally unqualified for the fact that I have to see him again in less than an hour.
20
Chapter 19
Pippa
AJ arrives at thestation seven minutes before the shift starts.
Not late. Not early enough to be suspicious. Exactly the sort of reasonable timing that gives no one any useful excuse to comment.
Except me, apparently, because I notice it immediately.
I am in the kitchen when he walks in, sleeves pushed up, jacket open. He looks like himself. That is the problem. He looks like the AJ who has spent nearly two weeks in this station being too observant, too useful, too quick with a line and too careful when it matters.
He does not look like a man who had his mouth on my shoulder less than an hour ago.
Mish looks up from the table. Kev is standing by the toaster. Dan is leaning against the counter with a mug.
AJ steps in, and my entire body goes,Oh. There you are.
Deeply unhelpful.
“Evening,” he says.
A normal word.
A very normal word.
I should be able to handle one normal word from a man in a station kitchen.
“Evening,” I say.
Also normal.
Congratulations to us both.
His eyes meet mine for half a second too long, and there it is.
Not enough for anyone else to catch. Not really. Just a tiny pause. A private misfire in the middle of ordinary station noise.
I look away first because I am the watch manager and because if I keep looking at him, I am going to remember his hand around my wrist, his voice against my ear and the precise way he smiled when he told me he was in charge.
Work.
This is work.
Kev points at AJ with a slice of toast. “You look smug.”
