9. Lila

9

LILA

"What's in this?"

I sputtered out a cough and handed my plastic cup back to Terry. It looked like red wine, but as the liquid trailed a thick blaze of fire down my throat, I couldn't identify it.

"It's a brandied wine," she said, holding the cup against the light. "It's nice. Perfect for a day like this."

The entire week had been hot, but today was overcast and cool, the temperature dropping enough to tease fall, even though it was only the end of July. When Terry and Kathy had invited me for another weeknight cocktail party on their porch, I'd had to search for where I'd put my hoodies and leggings before I joined them.

"I need to work up to that. Do you have anything lighter?"

"Oh honey, live a little," Terry said, shaking her head.

"Well, you both don't have work tomorrow, and I do. Jake needs me to be sort of lucid when I invoice his customers."

"Don't listen to her," Kathy said, taking a seat next to me. "Have one of these. It's a pineapple rum cocktail in a can."

"A weak drink," Terry said, stretching her arm along the edge of the porch. "Soon, it will be too cool to be out here. The cold weather moves in fast."

She glanced over at me, her lips pursed.

"You should be out. Not that we don't love your company, sweetie, but you should get out there. See if your cop friend wants to chill."

I choked on a mouthful of rum.

"Chill? I don't know if Mike wants to chill after a long workday."

"I used it right, didn't I?"

"You did." I nodded, chuckling as I lifted the can to my mouth again. "But for my generation. The young ones have a whole new language I don't understand."

"You're a young one," Kathy said, nudging my knee. "And my sister is right. Rude, but right."

"Remember when I dated Ricky," Terry mused to her sister. "He was a cop too. Neighboring town, so everyone wasn't so in our business. But those uniform pants." She shut her eyes and let out a long exhale.

I burst out laughing before I could help it, despite the heat creeping up my neck at the thought of Mike in uniform.

"He turned out to be a jerk, but he had his nice moments." She swirled the wine in her cup. "And you should be having nice moments too. Pretty girl, single. Don't let that asshole ex-boyfriend keep you from a good time."

I took a long pull from the can. I'd told my landladies a subdued Ted story the last time I'd drunk with them on the porch, skipping over the really bad stalking moments and the threats.

Ted wasn't keeping me away from a good time now.

My stupid overactive conscience was doing that.

Mike and I were still friends—friends who texted throughout the day and took long walks through our neighborhood on random nights during the week. It was so easy to be with him, and although I should have limited the time we spent together, it felt too good to stop. I had tons of furniture bookmarked on my laptop, not really wanting or needing any of it. I was shopping for an excuse to call the local handyman.

"There you are."

As if I'd conjured him up, Mike, in his police uniform, leaned against the railing.

"Here she is," Terry sang, smiling as she looked between us.

"I texted you before I left the station." Something I didn't like pulled at Mike's features. The usual curve of his lips had flattened into a hard line.

"My phone is inside, I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

"I know it's a lousy night, but would you mind going to the bar with me? It's been a long day, and I didn't want to drink alone." He shot me a small smile. "Even though you're already ahead of me."

"I've only had a few sips." I raised the can. "We can go if you want. Just let me change."

"Same. I need to not be a cop for a couple of hours. I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure," I said, the wide smiles of Kathy and Terry obvious even in my periphery.

I hesitated to look up after Mike left.

"Happy? I'm going to the local bar on a Wednesday night with my cop friend," I told Terry, nodding toward the path of Mike's departure.

"Friend," Terry huffed and took the can from my hand. "If you miss how he looks at you, you may want to get some glasses." She waved her hand. "Go change. Poor kid sounds like he had a long day. Pick something with cleavage."

"Leave the stretch pants on, though," Kathy said, angling her head. "It's chilly, and your legs are nice and shapely."

Nothing like being pimped out by your landladies.

"I'll take that into consideration. As always, thanks for inviting me out here."

I smiled, shaking my head at their elated grins as I jogged to my apartment to change.

I made it out in less than fifteen minutes, and Mike was parked on the street by my side entrance. Picking a shirt that didn't have cleavage had gotten into my head and almost made me late. I'd switched my leggings for jeans and grabbed a sweater on my way out, trying not to look like a bum or too enticing.

Not that enticing mattered since we were friends—or at least it shouldn't have mattered.

It was unnerving how each time I'd said or thought the word when it came to Mike, the less true it sounded.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I stepped into the car.

"Yeah," he said after a long minute, and he pulled away from the curb. "Sorry I interrupted your night."

"I was drinking on the porch with my landladies. I don't exactly have a swinging social life here."

A hint of a smile played on Mike's lips.

"Instead of the bar, how about we go to the bar and grill by the exit? They have good wings and not as many regulars to be in our business."

"Sure, whatever you want."

I examined Mike as he drove, the inside of his truck quiet other than the engine and tick of the turn signal. We pulled into the parking lot and he, again, draped his hand on the small of my back to lead me inside.

Why was that such an intimate thing? Maybe because, from Mike, the simple touch came with an electric charge.

"What can I get you?" The waitress gave us a beaming smile as she stepped to our table.

Mike stared at the menu, his eyes on the shiny laminate specials, but his head was a million miles away.

"How about a plate of wings to start? Mild, if that's okay." I looked at Mike. He gave me a weak nod in response.

"Anything to drink?"

"Beer would be good," Mike grumbled.

"Water for me," I said, smiling as I handed her back the menu.

"So, what's going on?"

"We had a domestic disturbance tonight. A family I've known for a long time. We had to call an ambulance for the wife since he broke her nose."

My hand flew to my mouth.

"He broke her nose that badly?"

The waitress came over with our drinks before Mike could answer. He muttered a thank-you before he took a long sip.

"We have to call emergency services when that happens, so all the injuries are on record. I went to school with their son, who doesn't live around here anymore."

Mike shredded the paper napkin next to his glass.

"I had to pull him off her before the second cruiser got there, and one of the officers told me to step away so he could handle it. I was handling it. So, I feel like shit tonight for two reasons."

His audible exhale almost had me out of my side of the booth and into his arms.

"I hated what I saw, and because I'm one of the youngest cops, I was pushed aside before I could do my job."

"But you did do your job," I said. "I'm sorry you had to see that—and then be dismissed when you were doing the right thing. Does that happen to most of the younger cops, or did he single you out?"

"It does." He lifted a shoulder. "But because I'm close to the chief, I feel like I get babied. Or sent on the bullshit calls like Mrs. Scarpullo's house. I'm not seeking out trouble, but I became a cop for more reasons than just busywork."

"Why did you become a cop?" I asked softly and scooted closer to the table.

"It took a long time to really decide, but the first time I had an inkling was when Claudia was attacked outside the bar one night."

I winced. "Steven told me about that."

"It shook me for a while. A lot of us. Things like that didn't happen here. And I wanted to stop them from ever happening again. I didn't want to worry about my sister or my stepmother or any other woman I loved being in that kind of danger. I took a few criminal justice classes in college and told my family that's what I wanted to do when I graduated."

A steaming plate of wings appeared between us. I was so into what Mike was saying, I didn't even hear the waitress approach.

"It didn't go over well," he went on. "I'm sure my father has told you how he hates it."

I shrugged. "I think it's just a general concern. He's very proud of you."

His gaze softened. "My mother definitely hates it and doesn't hold back. Calls like today are the worst, but being held back just pissed me off. I may need experience, but Jesus, let me get some so I can help. And I have no fucking idea what to say to my friend when he comes back to town for the holidays. If he comes back." Mike squeezed the back of his neck.

"I think if he does, he'll be grateful you were there to protect his mother," I said, reaching over to grab his hand before I could help myself. "I don't know about the inner workings of a police force, but I was a newbie at my old job once. That, combined with how you grew up here and know everyone, probably makes it so frustrating."

"It is," Mike whispered. The graze of his thumb back and forth across my knuckles sent a jolt of electricity up my arm.

"But I believe it will come in time. You're a great cop. Speaking as someone who's been rescued by you two whole times." I held up two fingers.

He smiled, lifting his eyes to mine as he pressed a soft kiss to my wrist.

"Thank you."

I almost swallowed my tongue, my limbs liquefying at the wet warmth of his mouth and the scratch of his stubble as he pulled away.

He didn't seem so young as his eyes held mine. He seemed like an old soul, good and kind, with so much to give.

And as much of a wrench as it would be to my professional life and my life here in general, I wished like hell I could be brave enough to put all that aside and just take it.

"Mike?"

"Amber?" Mike said, squinting at her as he dropped my hand. "You're not working tonight?"

"No. I had a late exam, so I took tonight off and met some friends from school for happy hour." She took a quick glance at me, and I couldn't tell if that was a smile or a smirk on her lips. "I guess we all don't tell Claudia we cheated on her tonight."

"We wouldn't have if she opened a kitchen like everyone keeps telling her to." Mike chuckled. "I'm glad you took a night off for once," he said, his easy smile back on his lips.

"Are you on your way out?" I cleared my throat when I caught my voice crack. "Come join us. There's like forty wings here."

"No, thank you. I have to go home and study. This is even too late for me to be out with class in the morning." Her smile shrank as she looked between us. "You two enjoy."

"Is she okay?" I whispered to Mike after she left.

"I think so. She's been wearing herself out between work and school. I've been a shitty friend and haven't checked on her like I should." His gaze lingered on her departure. "I'll give her a call tomorrow. My head's been all over the place."

"Give yourself a break." I nudged his foot under the table. "And help me put a dent in these wings."

He smiled, relaxed and genuine for the first time tonight.

After we polished off half the wings and paid the check, we headed back home. Conversation was easy as usual, despite the tingling on my hand from the memory of Mike's lips on my skin.

A weird silence fell over us when he parked on my block and shut off the engine.

"You don't have to walk me."

"That's too bad. I am anyway." He shot me a wry grin as he climbed out of the truck and headed to my side.

"Thank you for coming out tonight," he said as we took slow steps to my door.

"Thanks aren't needed. It was fun. And I went out after dark a second time since moving here." I glanced up at the foggy night sky. "Thanks for helping me make progress."

I craned my neck to the glow of a lamp in Terry and Kathy's window. When I caught Terry's gaze, she shut off the lamp and closed the curtain.

"I guess they're happy at my progress too." I let out a nervous laugh.

"Don't sell yourself short. We all are," Mike said, inching closer to me. "Good night, Delilah."

I was about to protest his use of my full name when his lips landed on my cheek. The shock was even more potent than when I'd felt them on my hand earlier tonight.

My blood sang in my veins, my head spinning as I fought the overpowering urge to turn my head, devour his beautiful mouth, and get this thing I had for him out of my system.

But one kiss wouldn't be enough. It would only hook me for more as that simple peck on the cheek triggered tingles all over my body, centering right between my legs.

"Good night, Mikey." I cupped his cheek and turned to unlock my door, giving him one last wave before I shut it behind me.

I slid to the floor, trying to ward off the visceral need for someone I wasn't meant to want.