Page 20 of Nothing At All

Yeah, that was helpful.

Squatted

Of course it was.

Thanks

I added the sparse description to the patrol notes online.

THANK YOU!!! Bubbles danced on the screen. Sorry I called you an asshole

I left that on read. She might not get boundaries.

But I damn sure did.

Chapter Six

Lila

I slowed behind the chicken truck making the turn from 19 onto Oakland. My plan included dropping by two physician’s offices before I headed over to Coney’s small hospital. Being in town for the day had me looking at every patrol car I passed in hopes of catching a glimpse of Dan. With both of us in the car most of the day and the unpredictability of his job, we didn’t connect often during the work day.

The semi rumbled over the railroad tracks, a few fluffy, white feathers drifting from the now-empty crates loading down its trailer. With the lunch rush in full swing, the parking lots at the diner and the new fast food place overflowed with vehicles. A line stretched from the window at the small food truck tucked into the corner of the used car lot across from the bakery. And the pizza place next to the bank was–

A familiar patrol car sat backed into a spot next to the street at the pizza joint. Lowkey anticipation fluttered in my belly, and I flicked on my blinker, the truck rumbling on ahead as I turned into the parking lot. I could grab a quick bite, maybe see his handsome face. Our in-person connection had been minimal this week, and I’d had to settle for texts and video calls.

I missed him.

That was kind of new. I’d had exclusive partners, well, boyfriends, before, but they did their thing, I did mine, and we both knew the relationship was for practice, not forever.

Dan was different.

I wanted to be where he was. Not orbiting him – making a man the center of everything felt unsafe – but orbiting a life together, on the same trajectory.

I could almost see that future with him, hazy but there.

He could be forever. Although that level of commitment frightened me – forever was a long time and we were young – the idea made me giddy, too, if I looked at it too long. Like ziplining over the river in Columbus, rushing over the rapids, knowing you were tethered safely so you could enjoy the thrill.

Maybe the safety lay in knowing we weren’t forever.

I snagged a spot next to this patrol car and reached for my phone to text him. Before I finished, the restaurant door swung open, and he emerged into the sharp winter sunlight. I smiled, a laugh bubbling in my throat. Oh, I loved seeing him.

Perfect.

Grabbing my clutch, I pushed the door open. I might not get to eat with him, but I could see him a second.

He keyed his mic at his shoulder, leaning his head to talk into it while he walked. He hadn’t spotted me yet, so I soaked in the chance to watch him move, tall and authoritative and steady.

The restaurant door opened once more.

Nicole stepped onto the sidewalk, scanning the area.

Looking for him.

A frown pulled at my brow. They weren’t together, right?

Releasing the microphone, he looked up, gaze falling on me. A wide grin curved his mouth, and even yards away, I saw his eyes light up with surprised welcome. He quicked his steps, lengthening his stride, so he reached me faster.

“Hey.” He leaned in, then checked himself, glancing around with a grimace. “I want to kiss you, but I’m in uniform.”