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Does he realize why he’s really here? I wonder. It’s not only because of the case. A big part of it, yes, but there’s another layer to the mystery of his arrival, and fuck, but I’m too tired to try to unravel him.
Plus, he’s doing a bang-up job of unraveling himself.
I shake my head. “It’s funny how you think you can come in here and question me. This is my territory. You’re basically a trespasser for the second time today, and you’re lucky I’m not tossing you out on your ass.”
He starts to pace across the carpet, to the wall and back. “And you’re a piece of this case, one I can’t figure out yet. Plus, it’s after midnight. Seems to me we’re already into tomorrow.”
“Seems like more of ayouproblem and not ameproblem,” I reply.
“I’m going to make it ayouproblem if you don’t help me.”
“Why, though? I don’t get where you’re coming from, Devan.” Finally, because watching him pace is making my headache worse, I pat the spot on the couch beside me. “Come on. I won’t bite you. Nothing you won’t ask me for, anyway.”
I’m too exhausted to be witty, but he’s definitely hot, no matter how run-down he looks. Flirting with him is natural.
It’s as easy as drawing in my next breath, and damn it but I don’t want to stop.
But also…what if Broderick finds out, determines that Devan is in my apartment, and gets the wrong idea?
“You know the dead man. The one you came to see the other day,” Devan adds.
Is there any point in lying to him? “Yes, I knew him. We were in the same trade.”
He lifts a brow.
“Online business. You know, website building and such,” I clarify with a smile that lets him know I'm only telling the partial truth. “Independent online contractors.”
He scoffs and asks, “You’re really going to feed me that line?”
“What line?” I say innocently. “You mean the truth? I work online. It’s what I do.”
“And your online contracting pays for an apartment like this?” Devan finally drops to my side. “It’s rent-controlled in a very desirable neighborhood. A brownstone of this size doesn’t come up for rent often.”
“I actually don’t have to answer your questions, you know,” I reply, shifting to grab a pillow and squash it against my chest. “Since you aren’t here on official police business.” I cross one ankle over the other. “Come on, Devan. Tell me the truth. You really just missed me. Didn’t you? You wanted to see me andapologizefor earlier.”
He stares at the window instead of answering, the sheer curtains doing little to block out the dull glow of night and moonlight obscured by clouds. The mist outside has turned into a light drizzle. Perfect sleeping weather. Except suddenly, I’m wide awake.
“I am sorry, Aria. I…yeah, no excuses.” He huffs out a long, deep exhale. “I’m sorry.”
“There you go. It’s not so hard, is it?” I especially like a man who doesn’t feel the need to destroy his apology with his reasoning.
“What got you into your current job?” He forges ahead.
“You mean, did I go through grade school wishing and hoping to do what I now do?” I ask.
He shrugs, his coat swishing with the gesture. “Sure.”
I didn’t actually go to high school, not past ninth grade, and forget about college or trade. Well, a certain kind of trade. Not the kind a man like Devan would want to hear about. His records indicate he’s a good, upstanding citizen. Not so much as a misdemeanor to his name, even before he joined the force.
Unlike me.
Even now, with all the work I've done on myself, it makes me emotional to think back on what I had to do to survive.
My own fault entirely.
“I mostly played around on a laptop, games and shit,” I tell him, stifling a yawn with the pillow. “Turns out there are a lot of skills you can teach yourself if you’ve got the time and a little bit of inclination.”
“You taught yourself your skills? Impressive.”
