Page 11 of One Mistake

She didn’t speak as she walked past me. Not even as she pulled a six-pack of beer from the bag and opened one for a long…long drink. I didn’t want to care. “You okay?”

Her sigh coupled with an eye roll was answer enough. “I’m a cop.”

“You’re a felon.”

“Careful when that glass house tumbles, big boy.” She cocked an eyebrow and gave me a once-over. My skin burned everywhere her gaze touched. This was the look of a woman with wants and needs. And that was information I could use.

“Sorry. You were saying?” I smiled and cocked my head so the dim light here caught my eyes, hopefully giving the illusion of sparkle.

“Never mind.” She took another long drink then cracked open a bag of pretzels.

It was hard to be sexy in my T-shirt and basketball shorts that Finn’s woman had brought under the rock climber’s harness that fit snug over my shoulders and between my legs, but I stood and walked toward her, moved a little too close, let my arm brush against hers, linger a second too long as I took a beer and opened it. The temperature in the room inched up, and I swiped my finger along her lower lip to catch a drop of beer from her last drink. Her eyes flipped open to stare at me. And I stared back because…because I couldn’t look away. I was captured and my thumb still tingled.

“I’ve been waiting all day to talk to someone. To you.” Fuck. Her lips pursed and she shook her head. I might’ve taken that one a little too far.

“Are you flirting with me so I’ll let you go home?” She moved away to a spot out of my range of motion. “I’m trying to figure out what to do. I went to the bar and talked to your boss. Flashed my badge and said you were helping the police, so…he seemed okay with waiting for you to come back.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Well, she didn’t have to do that. And, as a former law student, she should’ve known that every move she made shoveled another pile of shit onto her heap. She was in over her head already.

I peeked into the bag and pulled out a box of Tastykake cupcakes. My favorite. My mouth dropped open as I turned to look at her. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Not that big of a deal. You ate a whole box of these every day.” She protested a little too much. Although I did remember that her favorite dessert was cheesecake smothered in raspberry sauce, that she loved peanut butter everything, and that she hated runny eggs. The intensity of our…relationship made it seem to have lasted longer than its couple of weeks, but it also elevated her above all the other women I’d dated. Etched every detail of our time together in a special place in my mind. And I hadn’t realized it until I ended up in her basement, leashed to her wall.

Her cheeks went red, and she looked down. I’d eat a shoe if this wasn’t more than just a good deed, if she wasn’t feeling all the warm fuzzies I was.

My gut warmed from more than wanting her. Her kindness had always been admirable. I just didn’t expect it while she looked like Barbie: the Prison Version.

I moved closer to her, reached out, and threaded my fingers into her hair at the back of her neck. With nothing more than a soft tug, she ended up close enough I could kiss her cheek. Inhale a big whiff of cinnamon apple. Massage her scalp.

She didn’t move away. Instead, she slid her hands over my chest. Then as quickly as she lost herself, her eyes cleared, and she pushed me away. But the damage was done and we both knew it. There was no going back now. She’d touched me. Let me touch her and not as part of our kidnapper/kidnap-ee relationship.

“I ordered some, uh, some pizza for dinner.” She bent and almost disappeared into the refrigerator as she put the groceries inside.

There had to be a way to make her more comfortable. Get her talking. A safe subject we could bond over. I hadn’t given up on the hope of convincing her to set me free, but maybe I wouldn’t press charges. Maybe.

“I don’t remember you being friends with Avery and Felicity when we were in school.” Her friends seemed a safe subject.

But her eyes flashed. “Well, they helped me pull it together after the whole Beth Cooper thing.”

Oh shit. How I’d forgotten about the Beth Cooper Incident—what I’d taken to calling it in my head—I couldn’t remember. I should’ve told her the truth back then. It would’ve saved her friendship with Beth and not destroyed everything between us.

And I would’ve told her now had she not turned, crumpled the paper bag in her hands, and stomped to the steps. “I’ll bring the pizza down when it gets here.”

One Decade Ago

Jameson and Finn flanked the sides of my chair. Pledge week was in full swing and the kid on the screen was doing his best to make the chick he was banging scream his name. But she looked kind of bored. Like she would’ve rather been getting a mani/pedi down at the spa than having this guy grind his tiny tool into her. He grunted on every thrust and she faked a good couple moans before he gave her the goods and rolled off.

“Solid six.” Jameson nodded. “He had good form.”

Finn leaned his chair on its back legs against the wall and tossed the football in a vertical spiral, caught it then shrugged. “I’m not feeling a six.”

I laughed. “Neither was she.”

Jameson groaned. “Aww, man. He’s trying again.” The kid on the screen was stroking his dick. Pledges got extra points for a repeat performance.

“She’s gonna shoot him down.” We hadn’t had a pledge go for doubles and succeed yet.

Finn set his chair straight with a thud against the floor then leaned closer. He couldn’t see shit without his contacts, but we couldn’t see anything because of his big head. “Look again, loser. She’s into it.”