Page 65 of D for Dead

Hickok grinned, clearly thinking about the same incident.

‘Not our finest moment, eh?’ His eyes wandered over to the couch she had brought with her from the apartment, then back to her face, and his grin widened. ‘Keeping it for old time’s sake?’

Rebecca, mid-sip, nearly choked on her beer. Before she could recover and respond, he’d already moved on and changed the subject.

‘So where’s Adam? You guys live here together, right?’

‘Alan is at a plastics convention in Denver.’ She made a point of pronouncing his name, as she couldn’t be bothered to correct Hickok’s mistake, yet again. It was one she was certain he kept making on purpose. ‘And no, we don’t live together.’

Maybe that’s what he wants to talk about when he gets back: moving in together.

Something was definitely up with Alan. He had been acting really cagily around her recently. Either that or he was still pissed at her about the fight. Maybe he wanted to end things. Rebecca wasn’t sure how she felt about that, so she pushed the thought away.

‘A plastics convention; are you serious? So what is that; a bunch of dorks meeting up to discuss spoons and Tupperware pots?’

‘You’re unbelievable. You walk into my home, you insult my boyfriend. You’ve crossed the line, Hickok.’

‘And there I was thinking my timing was perfect, showing up when you’re at a loose end.’

When Rebecca shook her head, lost for words, he took a step closer, eyes not leaving her face.

‘You know, I’ve missed this. Sparring with you.’

‘You mean insulting me,’ Rebecca corrected, this time wise enough to not to get suckered in.

The doorbell sounded and Hickok raised his eyebrows.

‘Pizza,’ Rebecca told him.

‘I should’ve guessed.’ When she made to push past him, he stopped her. ‘I got it.’

‘No, I–’ He’d already left the room. ‘I’m not sharing my dinner with you, Hickok!’ she yelled at his back. She could see he had his wallet out and was paying the guy.

Kicking the door closed, he carried the pizza back through into the living room.

‘Jeez, Angell. You eat like a horse. How much food have you got here?’

Rebecca made a grab for the box.

‘Give me my pizza.’

‘Technically it’s my pizza. I paid for it,’ Hickok pointed out, grinning, holding the box at arm’s length.

‘You are such an asshole.’

Rebecca launched herself at him, catching hold of his arm as she reached for the pizza box.

Hickok’s grin widened as he held it out of her reach and instinctively she slipped her foot behind his, tripping him as he took a step back. His free hand locked around her arm as he stumbled and they both went down, Hickok landing on his back on the couch, Rebecca on top of him. The pizza box crashed to the floor behind them.

Oh shit.

Keeping her distance was one thing, but now, lying here on top of him and on the same damn couch where they had once been at it like rabbits, old feelings resurfaced.

Hickok grinned, realising, and lifted his hand to her face, brushing his fingers down her cheek.

Everything inside Rebecca tingled and, caught up in the moment, her mouth inched towards his.

What are you doing you idiot?