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That confidence shatters when I spot the officer stepping out of the police cruiser across the street. My breathing falters, my grin collapsing faster than panties drop after prom, and an ache plummets through my chest.
Am I dreaming?
I smack my cheeks. Squint my eyes. Pinch myself.
There’s no questioning it.
It’s him.
Years have passed, but his handsome face has been etched into my memory since age six. There will never be a time I won’t recognize the sun-kissed, gorgeous man headed in my direction. More scruff covers his strong cheeks than when we were teens, and his chest is broader, his muscles larger.
His almond-shaped carbon-black eyes are pinned my way, attempting to outstare me, as if I’m a target he can’t wait to hit. Vindication rides along with his all-business attitude. He remembers our history—how he begged me not to leave him and then told me I was dead to him when I walked away.
No amount of flirting will save me today.
I am so fucking fucked.
My father will kill me when I call for bail money.
I’m frozen in place, watching him grow closer, his partner behind him. My brain tells me to make a run for it, but my legs aren’t agreeing. Instead, I use this time to take in this new man.
Everything—from the way he walks to his body—has changed. The navy uniform envelops his solidly built frame, advertising every modification on him. His jet-black hair has grown out from his boyish cut in high school. Hard lines fill his stunning face, and his strong jaw is clenched—a silent admission his life hasn’t been a fairy tale since our breakup.
This familiar yet unfamiliar man no longer looks at me with love.
It’s hate. Pure, unadulterated hatred.
Gage Perry—OfficerGage Perry—towers over my small frame like a high-rise when he reaches me.
“What … what are you doing here?” I stutter out.Fucking A.I can’t even form a complete sentence without failing.
Don’t let him sense your nervousness.
The expression on his face switches from hateful to winning, like a guy who hit the lottery. “Oh, little hell-raiser, you didn’t hear the news? I moved home. Disappointed you weren’t my first call?”
Oh, yeah, still hates my ass.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” It’s more of a question to myself than him.
“Why would they?” His voice is deep, sharp, like daggers stabbing through my chest. “What I do is none of your business, is it, Lauren? You made that clear years ago.” Our eye contact is broken when he glances over to Ronnie and points at me. “This your arsonist?”
Ronnie puffs out his chest. “I believe the fire started in her apartment.”
Gage’s attention flashes back to me. “That true?”
I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. “That doesn’t mean I was in there playing Boy Scout. I have no idea how it happened.” My voice rises as the reality of the trouble I could be in hits me.Now entering freak-out mode.“I wasn’t even home!”
“She’s been harassing me for weeks to break her lease,” Ronnie cuts in, nodding with each lying word.
“That means I thought scorching the place was a better option?” I wave my finger in Ronnie’s direction. “In case you failed to notice,liar,my stuff went up in flames, too. It would’ve been simpler for me to write a check for a few thousand bucks than lose all my belongings.”
Gage shoots a glance toward his high school best friend/I’m assuming now partner, Kyle. “I think she’s guilty. You?”
Kyle smiles in entertainment and narrows his green eyes at me. He’s the co-chair of my hate club. “I concur with you, partner.”
“I’ll take her in for questioning,” Gage tells them. “I know from personal experience that she enjoys seeing shit go up in flames.” His attention turns back to me, giving me a warning that I’m in for a ride from hell. “She’s an expert on obliterating shit.”
Ronnie rubs his hands together. “Appreciate it, Officer.”
