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Talking at his place? I’ve only been an adult a couple years, but I have this one figured out. Fletcher is… Wait… What?
“What?”
“You know what I mean,” Fletcher says sternly. His voice drops a few notes. My throat tightens nervously.
“Are you saying if I have sex with you, you’ll drop the charges?”
He looks surprised and then he has the strangest response ever. Fletcher grins. “No. I said if you go back to my place, you get out of this. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get there.”
He’s trying to be subtle, but this is about as subtle as a door slam. He bites his lower lip and then shakes his head like it was a stupid idea to even suggest it — which it was. I don’t want to hang out with the asshole who arrested me behind a bowling alley.
My stomach tightens. I’m so scared of what he’s potentially saying that I don’t know how to respond. He’s a grown man and I’m a grown woman but… he’s Fletcher. It doesn’t help that he made me think he was going to send me to jail with Rob.
“I don’t want to,” I tell him. “That little stunt with Rob didn’t exactly put me in the mood.”
He never denies that’s what he meant. Or that’s what he wanted…
It’s a half-truth. Most sane heterosexual women ages 18-99 find themselves in “the mood” around Fletcher. But I’m still mad at him and scared of what the hell will happen if I let him touch me. He’s one of the most desired men in our town. He’s a cop. He’s my dad’s best friend… What the hell would I tell my dad? He would hate Fletcher forever and Fletcher doesn’t deserve that.
“You kissed him,” Fletcher shoots back, a fire bristling in him I’ve never noticed before. How the hell has he hidden this so well? He has feelings for me. Oh my fucking God, he has feelings for me. “How the fuck do you expect me to react when you go around kissing assholes like Rob Wheeler.”
“It was just a kiss.”
That part feels true now that I really feel used by Rob. He would have let me take the fall and he was too quick to believe I ratted him out to Fletcher. But I feel uncomfortable talking to Fletcher about this. He’s dad’s best friend and talking about this stuff with a guy in his thirties feels…
Fletcher gets into the car, and I follow suit. He doesn’t start it or move, he just stares straight ahead.
“I’m going to do something really fucked up,” he whispers. “And I’m sorry.”
“Fletcher, what?”
“I’m taking you to my place and you don’t get a choice this time.”
I panic and yank on the door handle which obviously doesn’t work because the vehicle is moving.
“Fletcher, I want to go home,” I plead with him. His expression is steel. I’ve never seen Fletcher look so serious and determined. I’ve never seen Fletcher look mean. I have to convince him not to do whatever stupid, reckless thing he’s going to do, but how the hell can I convince a small town cop of anything?
“Sorry, Britt. You got your way plenty tonight. Now, I’m getting mine,” Fletcher grunts.
What the hell is Fletcher doing? He’s a cop, and he’s essentially kidnapping me. So what the fuck can I do? It’s not like I can call Fletcher’s BFFs and tell them he’s taking me hostage. I’m trapped and utterly at Fletcher’s mercy.
Fletcher bought a house three blocks away from his family home at the very end of a cul-de-sac. His grandparents helped with the down payment and my dad helped him fix up the two-bedroom ranch house. He drives into the garage and shuts the door, preventing my escape.
“Stop messing with the door,” Fletcher says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“If you weren’t gonna hurt me, you would have taken me home.”
Fletcher sighs and pushes his hair out of his face. “I can’t take you home because what you did tonight could have ruined your fucking life and… Christ, Brittany. What were you thinking?”
“You brought me to your place to yell at me?”
“Yes,” Fletcher responds through gritted teeth. “Because I can’t arrest my best friend’s daughter and I can’t take her back to her place and I don’t know what the fuck to do with you.”
“And I don’t know why the fuck you care. Let me go, Fletcher.”
“Absolutely not. I let you go, you’re bailing Rob out tomorrow or begging your dad to pull some strings. I’m not taking you back home until…”
He pauses and then seems to reconsider his thought patterns. Fletcher pushes his annoyingly sexy blond hair out of his face and runs his tongue over his lips.
