“What do you see?” Viv whispers.
“The living room. He's sitting on the couch alone.” Just then, a girl walks into the room, completely naked. “Wait! There's a girl. Holy shit,” I add when she straddles him, and they literally start to go at it. No foreplay whatsoever. He was sitting there watching TV, she walks in, and bam! Now they're taking his clothes off.
“What?” Viv nudges me, wanting to know what's happening, but not wanting to look for herself.
“They're about to fuck. I'm sorry,” I add with some sympathy, but I don't look away. I can't. They are animals. Wow. She's riding him like there's no tomorrow, and he's playing with her breasts, squeezing them. Damn. I'm a peeping Tom! I'm a freaking perv!
“Shit,” Viv mutters, dragging me away from the sex party inside with the sound of her voice and rustling leaves.
“What?” But when I look, she's sneaking off around the back of the house. Why is she going that way in such a hurry? “Vivian! Where are you going?” I whisper fiercely.
Suddenly, I see my shadow against the house thanks to a light shining on me from behind. I freeze. No fucking way Viv left me here to get caught!
“Ma'am? Is there a reason you're crouching outside someone's window?”
I swivel, holding my hand over my face. The cop lowers his flashlight and comes closer. Ugh. Great. Officer O'Connor.
“Ryan Kavanaugh, right?”
“Yeah, you remembered.” I wish I could say I feel less likely to get in trouble now, but I don't. I am surprised that he remembered my name though.
“Kind of hard to forget the half-naked girl with a boy's name. What are you doing?”
I cross my arms over my chest. He doesn't need to remind me about that. “My name isn't a boy's name because it's mine. Last I checked, I'm a girl. And I was out here because...well, you see.” Damn it, I have nothing. “Look, my best friend's boyfriend lives here, and she thinks he's cheating on her. She talked me into spying on him with her to find out. Apparently, she saw you coming and left me here.” Stupid bitch. She's so going to pay for this.
“Well, the neighbor saw you two and called it in. Come with me, please.” He loosely takes my elbow and leads me towards his car.
“Are you going to arrest me because I can think of better use for your handcuffs.”
He shakes his head at my comment. “No, I'm not arresting you. We're just going back to my car, so we both don't look like creepers.”
“What's your first name?” I ask curiously, noticing that Viv's car is empty. She must still be hiding behind the house.
He glances at me, but then says, “Gabriel. Almost everyone calls me Gabe though.”
Gabriel O'Connor. Gabe O'Connor. I like it. Someone speaks through the radio on the front of his shirt, and Gabe presses the button to answer back in police code. My phone begins to buzz in my back pocket, so I pull it out and see that it's Viv. I'm not even going to text her back. She left me to get caught by the cops!
“Is your friend still around?”
“I don't think so,” I lie. “Could you give me a lift home? Cops are supposed to be nice, right?” I give him my sweet smile. There is no way I'm going to push him into arresting me like I pushed him into giving me a ticket. Officer O'Connor will only see nice Ryan today.
“Yes, sure. I can give you a ride. My shift is about to end anyway.”
He opens the door for me, and I slide in. As I watch him walk around, I decide I don't want him to take me straight home. He's hot. Too hot to pass up after running into him for a second time even if he did write me a ticket. When he gets in, I make my move.
“Hey, since your shift is over, why don't you do whatever it is you need to do to get off work and then we grab a bite to eat or something? My treat.”
Gabe glances over at me. “You're asking me out?” He pulls away from the curb and starts driving.
“Sure, why not? Aren't you hungry?”
“I guess, but-”
“Then it's settled. You take care of your business and then we'll go eat.” I angle myself towards the window a little as a silent message that the discussion's over. My phone keeps vibrating, but I ignore it. If Viv wanted to know what's happening, then she shouldn't have left me.
Gabe seems a little anxious and for a second I wonder if he's gay and that's why he feels uncomfortable about going out with me. But then I remember how he looked at my legs that day, so I toss that idea aside. Maybe talking will relax him a little.
“So how old are you?” I ask.
He doesn't look over to answer me. “Twenty-five. You?”
“Nineteen. Almost twenty.”
Gabe's jaw tenses. Is my age what's bothering him? Let's get away from that topic then. “Have you always wanted to be a cop?”
“Yeah. It runs in my family.” We pull into the police station. He turns with a serious expression on his face. “Can I trust you in my car?”
“Of course. I can go inside if you want.”
Gabe shakes his head. “Sit here and wait.”
“Yes, sir.” I smile.
Gabe leaves me to go inside the station and do whatever it is he needs to do. About thirty minutes later, he walks back out, dressed in jeans and a red button up shirt. He looks even bigger now than he did in his uniform. Without his hat, I can see that he has curly hair. Can he get any hotter?
“Where would you like to go?” He asks as soon as he's in the car.
I tell him about a twenty-four hour breakfast diner across town. The ride is silent once more, but that's cool. Gives me plenty of time to think of different things to talk about at the diner. After all, I know nothing about this guy. Gabe reaches for the door, just as I do, causing his hand to land over mine.
He cracks a smile. “I'll get it. You're a lady, so-”
“That means I can't open the door by myself?” I quip.
Gabe lets my comment fly right over his head. “No. It means I'm a gentleman and you don't have to.”
Hm. Fine. I drop my hand, and he finally opens the door. We find a booth along the wall and take a seat. There aren't a lot of people in here. Two old men at the bar, an elderly lady and a young boy at a booth, and then a middle-aged couple. The waitress promptly comes to take our drink orders. Once she walks away, I'm about to ask him a question, but he beats me to it.
“How did you get your name?” He asks, looking over the menu.
I shrug like it's no big deal and like it never bothers me. It's not just a name though. It's an identity. And mine is tied to nothing I would consider good. I've even thought about changing my name, but deep down, I know it fits me. So I keep it. But I don't tell Gabe any of that. Instead, I say, “My parents wanted a boy and loved the name Ryan. Turns out I've never been able to meet their expectations. They decided to name me Ryan anyway. What about you? Any special significance to your name?”
“Not really. It was the only name my parents agreed on.”
Better than what happened with me. “You said being in law enforcement runs in the family?”
Gabe nods. “Yeah. All the men and some of the women have been in law enforcement at some point in their lives. My dad and granddad are retired. My older brother actually works for the FBI. Being a police officer just fit.”
“That's cool.” With a small pause, I continue, “I guess I should apologize for my behavior the other day. I don't usually leave the house without pants. Pretty sure that's what led to me getting the ticket. Next time I'll know better.”
Gabe laughs. “Oh, yeah. It was that part of your behavior that sealed the deal. Your attitude and actual violation had nothing to do with it. I feel kind of bad about it now that you're buying me a late night snack.”
“I deserved it.” I shrug.
The waitress returns to take our order. Gabe gets pancakes, and I order French toast. She keeps giving me sideways glances. What the hell is her problem? When she walks away, Gabe chuckles, shaking his head as he catches my attention.
“It's probably because of how you're dre
ssed in all black. You look a little sketchy.”
I look down at my clothes. “Well, I had to dress the part. That's half the fun.”
“Yet you were still spotted. You're a terrible criminal.” He laughs, and it's such a hearty laugh. It's adorable. “You're a college student, right? What's your major?”
Frowning, I say, “I'm undecided. You sound like you had it all figured out. Your career path was basically laid out for you, and you knew that you would be happy with that job. I'm assuming, anyway. I, on the other hand, don't have a fucking clue. You have a passion for it. I don't have any passions or anything that I'm so good at that I would want to do it for the rest of my life.”
Well. I didn't intend to say all of that, but my big mouth has a mind of it's own. To avoid looking at this practical stranger, I stare into my glass as I take a sip.
Instead of giving me an inspirational speech that I wouldn't care two cents about, Gabe simply tells me, “You'll figure it out. Find something you like and run with it.”
I don't bother telling him that nothing catches my interest enough to make a job out of it. Our waitress brings our food, and Gabe smiles at her good-naturedly. He gives me the vibe of a pure, one hundred percent good guy. Maybe it's that stupid girl in me, but it makes me a little wary. There has to be a kink in his shiny exterior. It's so the stupid girl talking, trying to rationalize it because guys can't simply be good.
“Was he cheating on her?”
“Huh?” I look up from my French toast, my mind still lost in my good guy debate.
“You were spying to see if your friend's boyfriend was a cheater. Was he?”
“Oh!” Nodding, I say, “Yeah. They were starting to go at it like animals right before you showed up.” I shake my head with a guilty grin at the memory. “I should probably be consoling my friend, but she left me to get caught, so she'll be fine. Are you from around here?” I rather learn more about him than talk about Viv.
“Yeah, born and raised. You?”
“Nope. People are supposed go away for college, and since my parents wouldn't let me go out-of-state, I went across the state. This was as far as I could get. We used to come to a town not too far from here for beach vacations, though.”
He nods as if he's considering something. “Why do you think people should go away for college?”
“Well, isn't college supposed to be a time of your life where you get away from what you know to really experience new things? To learn about yourself and who you are apart from your family? At least, that's why I wanted to leave home.”
I have Gabe's full attention now.
“That makes sense to me, although I never went far from home,” he says in response.
“Maybe you didn't have to. Maybe you already knew all those things,” I tell him quietly, looking down at the table. Our plates are empty now, and the conversation isn't fun anymore. It's more personal than I care for. I clear my throat, smile, and add, “I'll be right back.” I grab the bill from the edge of the table and begin to slide out of the booth.
“You don't have to. I'll pay,” Gabe objects.
“My treat, remember?” I leave to take care of our tab before he can say anything else. This is why I always carry some cash in my pockets because I left my purse at my apartment. Gabe walks over to tell me he left a tip. It's time to go home now.
I let him open all the doors for me, wondering if he's the type to come inside for a little sex. Probably not. He opens doors for women and even called me a “lady.” I don't think he's that kind of guy. Besides, he hasn't even been home yet, and he just got off work.
“Where do I need to take you?” He asks.
I give him directions to my apartment. We ride in silence the rest of the way. When we get to my place, I thank him for the ride and for allowing me to treat him to dinner before getting out. Gabe rolls the window down and calls out for me to wait. I lean down to see what he wants. Maybe he is that type after all.
“Here.” He holds out a slip of paper. “You seem to find yourself in trouble quite often. If you ever need help, call me.”
With a grin, I ask, “Is this your way of giving me a chance to ask you out again?”
Gabe chuckles, but ignores my question. “Have a good night, Ryan.”
“You too.”
When I get inside, I stare at his number. There's no time to think about him because Viv bursts into my apartment.
“Do you even know how to knock?”
“What the hell happened?” She throws her hands up like I'm the one who abandoned her.
“You tell me. You let me get caught! You didn't even warn me!”
Viv's shoulders sag. “Sorry. I panicked. You didn't get arrested, did you?”
“No. It was the same officer who pulled me over the other day. We went out to eat because his shift was over.” Like a true winner, I hold up his phone number with a smirk.
Viv playfully shoves my arm with a laugh. “You bitch. Here I was worried I would have to bail you out of jail, and you went on a date!”
“What can I say? Troublemakers come out on top too.”
* * *
Last night, Viv wanted to focus on Gabe instead of her shitty boyfriend, so we talked about him while drinking rum. That was how she consoled herself. I knew better than to text while drunk, because we did get drunk and danced terribly to loud music that pissed my neighbors off, but today, I'm sober. The slip of paper with Gabe's number on it is burning a hole in my purse. I can't stop staring at the side as if I have x-ray vision and can see a glow around it, beckoning me.
While the professor is droning on, I decide I can't take it anymore. I dig for the number and grab my phone. Once he's added as a contact, I think for a moment on what to text him. Technically, he gave me this number in case I needed any help. But who cares about technicalities? Not me. My thumbs get to work, and I send him what I think is a cute, little message.
Hey. It's Ryan. Thought you should have my number in case you wanted to call & ask me out. I went first. Now, it's your turn. :)
Five minutes pass, and I'm positive that had to be the stupidest message I've ever sent. There's no way that will earn me a response. Last night was pleasant, and I wouldn't mind another one, even though I rarely get second dates. Gabe's new, not a part of the college world, and really hot. Why not pursue him? Never know what could happen. Plus, the chase is part of the fun!
Damn it.
I sound like a guy. At least, what I think a guy would sound like. Maybe I should have been born a boy. Then some of my definitely-not-girl-suitable thoughts would fit, and my parents would have been happy with me. My phone vibrates and lights up with an incoming call. Holy fuckaroo! He's calling me right now! Grabbing only my purse, I scramble out of my seat, being extra thankful I picked one close to the door, and run out of the classroom.
“Hello?” I answer, slightly out of breath from the rush.
“Hey. Is this a bad time?” He asks.
“Oh, no. Not at all.” I'm not skipping class or anything.
“Good. If Friday night works for you, I'd like to take you out on a date. A real one because the diner doesn't count.” There's a hint of laughter in his voice, and I can't help but smile.
“Why wasn't mine real?” I question curiously.
Gabe chuckles. “Because it wasn't. What do you say to Friday? You aren't going to turn me down now, are you?” he teases. Gabe seems more carefree today. It's contagious.
“Not a chance.”
“Great because you are an intriguing person, Ryan. I'll let you know the details soon.”
“Okay, sweet. Talk to you later.”
We end our conversation with that. I'm intriguing, though? What does that even mean? Doesn't matter because now, I have a hot date.
Mission accomplished.
Chapter Three
Gabe
Ryan Kavanaugh appears to be the personification of trouble. A pure dose of seductive trouble to be exact. I honestly don't know why I called her
. When I first met her, I definitely wasn't expecting her to have so much skin showing. Those tan legs and ass are still haunting me. There was something about the way she carried herself with how confident she was with her body. She didn't care that I saw her. It was like, to her, having me see her like that didn't matter because she knew she looked good.
I liked that.
Too much.
And then, I found her snooping outside someone's house, dressed ridiculously in all black, but she looked damn good. Her wavy, dark red hair was a lovely contrast to her dark clothes. She wasn't happy to see me either. My comment about her name pissed her off more than it should have. And then she had no problem making sexual comments. It's brazen. She conned me into going out with her, which turned out better than I would have expected. Between what she said about her parents and school, I was intrigued, just like I said.
I can't fathom my parents being disappointed in me. Ever. Maybe in some of my actions, but not as a person in my entirety. There's definitely something more to this girl. That last word reminds me of her age. She's young and in college. It seems odd that I would be asking her out. It almost goes against my good-natured ways. Her age, for me, walks that line. I honestly feel a little bad about giving her the ticket, which is one reason why I threw caution to the wind and called her.
Can't say that I regret it either.
Not yet anyway.
I have to think about what we're going to do on this date now. Movies and dinner seem so outdated, even for me. It's a classic, sure, but something tells me that Ryan would have more fun doing something else. What that is, I'm not sure yet. This is so hard to do without getting her input because I don't know a lot about her. She's either going to love it or hate it.
It's late afternoon when my phone rings, and I smile when I see it's my little brother. Who is only three years younger than Ryan. This is spelling out trouble over and over again. My family's opinion matters to me, and I can guarantee that Ryan's age would be of concern to them.
You Before Me Page 2
