Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“I’m playing baseball twenty-four-seven. It sucks. I haven’t seen you for more than two seconds while passing you in the hall at school. Just meet me outside for a few minutes.”
I waved from my bedroom window. “Look. You’re seeing me.”
He grumbled. “Not the same.”
“I was grounded all last week. I can’t risk sneaking out at ten-thirty on a school night. Sorry.”
“I’m good. Filleting fish. Want me to bring you dinner?”
I can hear the riffling of papers in the background. He has me on speaker, and he’s working as we speak.
“I want you, Watts. I already had dinner.”
“Takeout?”
“Food truck.”
I laugh. “Same thing.”
“Filleting fish, huh? You know you can buy fish already filleted. Don’t you ever get tired of dissecting shit?”
“I usually find the cause and manner of death before I have to dissect too much shit. But to answer your question, no. I don’t get tired of dissecting things. Are you having an affair with Dylan Paine?”
He coughs. “S-she’s married.”
“Hence the word affair.”
“Do I come across as the guy who sleeps with another man’s wife?”
“I’m getting to know the new Colten Mosley, so I’m not ready to make a judgment on that.”
“I’m the Colten you knew seventeen years ago, just with more hair, more scars, and more—”
“Experience.”
He hums. “I hope so.”
“Who was your first?”
“My first what?”
“Sexual encounter.”
“You, Josie.”
“We didn’t have sex.”
“No, but we were sexual.”
“Intercourse. Who was your first penetration?”
He coughs another laugh. “Jesus, Watts … you’re so clinical.”
“I’m a doctor.”
“Mindy.”
“Mindy who?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I met her at a bar the week before basic training. I was drunk. She was drunk. And we fucked. At least, I think there was penetration. The details are sketchy. It was in the back seat of her Chevy Malibu while we waited for her friend to come drive us home.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“It was. I thought about proposing, but not knowing her last name or literally anything else about her made finding her again difficult. Who was your first?”
Before I answer, I hear him whispering something to someone else.
“Are we talking about our first sexual encounters with an audience?”
“No,” he says. “Rose just dropped another stack of files on my desk. She’s gone. You were saying?”
“I’m going to let you get back to work.” I toss my fillets into a bowl of marinade.
“You’re not off the hook. You owe me the story of your first time.”
“You owe me a lot more than that, but we’ll save that for another conversation.”
“Good night, Josie.”
“Night.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
There’s a mass shooting at a nightclub the following night which means Colten will live at work, especially since the shooter is still at large. I stay plenty busy with the bodies of the gunshot victims and my own reports to type up.
By Friday, they have the suspect in custody, and the community in mourning gets a tiny sigh of relief and hope for justice.
I leave work just before six and decide to visit Colten at the station.
“Hey, Dr. Watts. What’s up?” Detective Rains glances up from his desk behind stacks of paperwork.
“I’m looking for Colten, uh … Detective Mosley.”
“I sent his tired ass home. I’m sure he’ll be here again early in the morning, but he was running on fumes. Anything I can help you with?”
I shake my head and smile. “Nope. Have a good weekend. You should probably get some rest too.”
He barks a laugh. “I have three kids at home, all under the age of ten. Work is my idea of rest.”
“Fair enough. Good night.”
“Good night, Dr. Watts.”
I don’t give it much thought before I steer my car in the direction of Colten’s house. There doesn’t appear to be a light on anywhere in his house. My finger moves toward his doorbell, but I stop just before pressing it.
With my foot, I nudge a planter to the side.
“No …” I shake my head and laugh out loud. “You do not have a house key under your planter, Detective Mosley.” He’s probably the make-my-day kind of guy who dares anyone to break into his house.
While I unlock his front door, I try to remember if I saw a security alarm. The door opens in silence, so I think I’m in the clear. I tiptoe upstairs to his bedroom. He’s asleep on his back, arm cocked over his head. Removing my clothes down to my panties and bra, I slide into the other side of his bed. Opting to let him sleep, I keep my distance, staring at him until I fall asleep.
Early in the morning, a large, calloused hand splays along my belly, hooking me and turning me to face him. Our legs scissor, and I realize he sleeps in the nude.
He brushes some hair away from my face. “Did you break into my house?”
I grin. “I have a warrant.”
“I’m going to need to see it.”
I hold up my hand and wiggle my fingers.