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In the days before I’d gone back to work, and even when I’d taken breaks to clear my head from the case, I’d been miserable because Maci and I still hadn’t talked. I’d told myself a dozen times to get over it—that it was necessary—and wondered hundreds more when everything had shifted between us.
But it all felt natural...
Looking over to see her right there and wondering where she was when she was gone. Hating when that self-entitled douche was in her apartment or when any other guy showed an ounce of interest. Eagerly waiting for her reaction to whatever prank I set up for her and loving that she always returned the favor.
I always figured it was because we’d grown up together. She was Dylan and Dakota’s sister, so I was protective of her the same as they were. I enjoyed teasing her in my own platonic way because it was Maci.
I was starting to wonder if that was all bullshit. If I’d had it in my head from that first day that she was their little sister, and that meant there was a very distinct line I couldn’t cross with her, so I’d blinded myself to everything else.
But that line had blurred, letting me see her so much more clearly than before, even though nothing had truly changed.
Because I still looked for her and felt a dip of disappointment in my chest when I didn’t see her. I still fucking hated when I could hear that asshole in her apartment or when she so much as mentioned him. And I still loved that Maci’s love-hate relationship with my pranks was just as great as her need for revenge.
But this?
I flipped through my keys until I found hers and stormed into her apartment, already yelling.
“You’re messing with my career, Maci. Don’t you get that?” I started for the hallway when I heard music coming from the back of the apartment. “I’m a detective. People on the streets know me. Other law enforcement will see that flyer and know it’s me,” I snapped as I rounded the corner into her room and momentarily faltered when I found her lying on her bed.
Flashes of her in my bed and that kiss assaulted me before my exhaustion and anger overpowered everything else as I watched her sit up.
A brief smile tugged at her lips and was quickly replaced with a feigned, puzzled look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit.” I tossed the crumpled-up flyer and envelope at her, pointing at where she let it fall to the comforter. “You really think this is funny? Tell me where you put all of them.”
She didn’t bother trying to hide her next mischievous smile. “Actually, yeah,” she said with an indifferent shrug. “I did think it was kind of funny.”
A breath punched from my chest at her inability to see how damaging this could be for me. “I’m done dealing with your shit.”
“Really,” she said with a scoffing laugh. “Is that what this tantrum is?”
“You went too goddamn far today.”
“Oh, and what you’ve been doing isn’t too far?” she snapped back. “If you’re done, why do you keep playing this game with me?
I pointed at the brightly colored paper. “That isn’t a game, that’s my life.”
“What the hell’s with you tonight?” she asked, the question pure exasperation. “The whole thing was a joke. I didn’t actually make a bunch of flyers—just one. The guys who called you are my friends who helped me make it.” She studied my face for a moment before asking, “Jesus, do you really think I would do something like that to you?”
“Yes.” The answer was immediate and surprised her, judging by the widening of her eyes. But I was still too frustrated from the past few days, and there was still too much adrenaline in my veins from finding the flyer to think or respond rationally.
Closing my eyes, I cracked my neck and turned to leave before I could make things any worse. “All of this...we’re done,” I called over my shoulder. “Both of us.”
“So when a prank sucks for you, we’re done. But you can do them with no consequences?” The sound of her feet hitting the hardwood floor let me know she was behind me, but I didn’t slow as I headed for my apartment. “You flooded my fucking apartment yesterday.”
“I’m just done, Maci. Done with this...done with you.” The more we did this, the more I interacted with her, the more I’d want her. She was Dakota and Dylan’s sister. She was going to marry someone else. I couldn’t keep doing this.
“And what exactly does that mean?” she asked, her forced irritation unable to hide the whisper of hurt in her voice. “You’re at almost every family function. We’re neighbors. Are you going to act like I don’t exist now?”
Scrubbing my hands over my face once I had my door unlocked, I pushed it open and started taking all my gear off my belt. Placing it on the kitchen table with more force than necessary, I released an irritated sigh and said, “I don’t know, Maci. Look, it’s been a long thirty-six hours. I got called in a day early on a case that’s killing me, and I’m fucking exhausted. Give me some time where I don’t have to deal with one of your pranks. And if there’s something in my apartment, get rid of it now.”
“There’s nothing,” she bit out, her tone an equal mixture of hurt and worry and anger that was rising to match mine. “And, seriously, sue me. All I wanted was to bring you back to life. Is that so wrong? What even happened to you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Why won’t you just talk to me?” she nearly begged as I started for the hall. “Tell me what happened to turn you into a zombie. Tell me about the case.” She reached for my arm to stop me. “This isn’t like you. Maybe if you—”
“I said it’s none of your goddamn business.” Turning, I put a hand on her chest and shifted her back until she was pressed to the wall. “Stop pushing for something you have no right to know,” I said through clenched teeth. “If you wanna talk so fucking bad, tell me why you’re going to marry that asshole even though I know you don’t want to. You don’t even wanna be with him, Maci. He doesn’t do anything for you.”
