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“No.”
“Step out of the vehicle please.”
“You mind telling me what this is about?”
“You smell like alcohol. Step out of the vehicle.”
I made a sound, staring down at the beer-stained hoodie he was wearing so I didn’t have to. The officer thought he was drunk because of me.
This is your fault! Such a liability.
Arsen glanced at me. “It’s fine, baby,” he said low, then stepped out of the car. Without thought, I vaulted out of the passenger side, racing around the front to where Arsen stood.
The officer reacted, unhooking the gun on his belt and spinning. “Stay where you are.”
I froze, squinting against the bright headlights.
Cursing, Arsen ignored the twitchy cop and skirted around him to step in front of me. “While I understand your caution,” he told the officer, “it’s not needed here.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“The hoodie is mine. He’s wearing it because someone spilled a drink all over me and we traded shirts,” I tried to explain. “He hasn’t been drinking.”
“I’ll take a breathalyzer to prove it.” Arsen volunteered.
“Wait right there,” the cop said and retreated to his cruiser.
“Get back in the car, Matthew.”
“No.”
Arsen looked over his shoulder, piercing me with a hard look. It made my stomach hurt, but I held my ground. “I’m not leaving you alone out here with some cop with a twitchy trigger finger.”
“I’m fine.”
“He thinks you’re drunk because you’re wearing my shirt.”
“But I’m not drunk, and I’ll prove it. Besides, you look cute standing there in my jacket.”
“Now is not the time to flirt with me, Arsen Aaron Andrews,” I spat. Oh God, I sounded like the girls.
The officer came back, and Arsen blew into the breathalyzer. Moments later, it came back exactly as he said it would: clear.
The officer’s face pinched. “You mind if I search the vehicle for open containers?”
Arsen gestured to the wagon. “Be my guest.”
In that moment, another cruiser with flashing red and blue lights pulled up, parking right behind his buddy. The two officers conferred and then went to the Mercedes to look for open containers.
Arsen glanced at me and winked. “Must be a slow night.”
I didn’t understand how he could be so calm. I started pacing in the headlights, my eyes watering from their brightness.
“Looking kinda nervous,” observed the officer who didn’t pull us over.
“I have anxiety,” I snapped.
“Or something to hide.”
