by R. D. Berg
“You're saving yourself for marriage, 182. Does that purity ring mean nothing to you? Your parents and I will be so disappointed. Over.” While Finn rambles, I send Lundyn a quick text.
ME: Leaving town on me so fast?
I'm not checking in on her. Don't give me that look. It's just an innocent question laced with a little neediness.
“I'm surprised you know what a purity ring is since it doesn't go on your chicken. Over.” That comment should shut him up, and if you didn’t guess, chicken is our code for cock – I never claimed we were that mature.
“My chicken likes only the finest corn, 182, and it doesn't discriminate, but sometimes we like to corrupt the innocent. Over.” That's my best friend, ladies and gents.
“Didn't you take my sister out last week, 408?” Trey adds, he's another LPD officer.
“That's funny,” Finn makes a static noise through the radio. “My connection is breaking up. Talk later, over.” Finn finally quiets.
“I'm going to strangle you, 408. Over,” Trey talks firmly into his radio.
“That's a threat, do I have witnesses? Over.” False alarm, Finn can never shut up.
“I need all of my police force actually working and not sitting gossiping like Finley, Mavie, Billie and Tracie. Over.” Shit, caught by the chief.
My phone lights up.
BLUE: You stalking me now? Headed to a sex shop with your sister. Maybe I’ll pick up a Bob.
What in the hell? The only guy she needs starts with an M and ends with Averick. Not fucking, Bob.
“Did you hear that threat, Chief? Over.” Finn demands, and then follows, “Finley sounds hot. Over.”
“Well, Finley shouldn't, she's a guy. Over.” The chief’s laughter carries through the line.
“Hey! You can't reverse, Jake from State Farm, me! Over.” Finn scoffs sounding legitimately offended.
“Get to work! Over and OUT!” Chief demands before he clicks off.
“Well, she sounds absolutely hideous. Over.” Finn mumbles to turn the humor his direction.
My fingers stumble over a reply to Lundyn,
ME: I have to say, I'm a little jealous of this, Bob person.
BLUE: Don't be, Bob (Battery Operated Boyfriend.) runs off batteries and I have a feeling you'd always surpass Duracell.
She's going to buy a vibrator at midnight?
ME: I'd never run out, Blue. Interesting time to purchase.
BLUE: Harlow’s bored and I drank a bottle of wine, so road trip!
ME: Be safe.
BLUE: That's my middle name. Lundyn Be-Safe Spence. See you Friday. Oh, and Harlow's driving, she hasn't been drinking, surprisingly.
ME: Friday, Blue.
“Are you reading me, 182? Over,” Finn statics back over the line.
“Loud and annoyingly clear. Over.” I roll my eyes scanning them over the road in front of me.
“I'm scared of Tracie, I think she's plotting after what happened to her sister. Over,” Finn stage whispers into the radio about Trey.
“408!” Trey shouts, causing me to jolt upright in my seat.
“Shit, this is like the three-way call in Mean Girls. Boo, Tracie, you whore. Over.” Why Finn knows any scenes from the movie Mean Girls is beyond me, but his movie quotes never end for the rest of our shift, just like any other slow night we have. When I see Lundyn and Harlow pass back through town an hour after our text exchange, I'm relieved.
Having a best friend isn’t all its chalked up to be. Yes, they can be your closest confidant, someone you can disclose your deepest secrets to and not be judged for them. Or they can be devious hairdressers who threaten to post your deepest secrets on all social media platforms if you don’t comply with their malicious plans. So here I sit, scared as a child at a clown convention, at this supposedly welcoming wax center, mentally prepping myself to get my va-jay-jay waxed at the hands of a complete stranger.
“Seriously Harlow, this shit better not hurt or I’m going to tit punch you.” I harshly whisper through clenched teeth into Harlow’s ear.
She rolls her eyes for the tenth time today. “Ugghhh, it’s not going to hurt unless you are hiding a mini Sasquatch down there.” She cocks up an eyebrow. “Are you?”
I slap my hands on my face and drag them down. “No, I’m not.” The heel of my converse beats against the sparkling white linoleum floor. “It’s just that hot wax and my va-jay-jay have never sounded like a good thing.”
“Whine all you want. I’m not letting you go on a date with your precious twat in the state that it’s in. I mean seriously, I thought your hairs were going to come out and attack me.”
I shove her shoulder with mine. “You did not!”
“Lundyn?”
My head turns toward the hallway where a petite lady dressed in black scrubs with purple polka dots looks over at us. My heart pounds with anticipation that she’s going to tell me the wax shop is closed for the day— anything that will get me out of this.
“Ummm, yeah…I…that’s me,” I stammer. My nerves kick in, immediately saturating my palms in sweat. Because she’s such a devilish bitch, I rub the wetness onto Harlow’s arm.
Her lip curls up in disgust. “Ewww, gross.”
I leave her sitting there letting her suffer the wrath of my sweat attack. The tiny squeaks my converse make with each frightful step I take, sound as if they are warning me to turn around and run the hell out of here.
“Hi, I’m Monica,” She enthusiastically greets, offering me her hand and a warm, welcoming smile. I feel a nervous smile pull at the corners of my mouth before offering my hand. She seems young, maybe early twenties. Her mocha colored skin is flawless, and her intricately braided hair is pinned in a high bun. “Follow me this way and I will show you to your room.” She turns and leads me through a glass door. Before it closes, I hear Harlow say with an evil laugh, “Go get’em champ.”
My fingers tap across my chest as I wait for Monica to finish stirring the wax. I am not by any means prude, but having my legs spread eagle waiting for hot wax to be applied just isn’t my definition of a good time.
“You nervous?”
“Just a little,” I admit.
“Promise you there’s no need, the first strip might be a surprise but after that, it’s smooth sailing.” Her words are meant to be assuring but fall short of easing any nervousness.
“Okay, since you promised and all,” I say to the ceiling, silently praying Monica’s fingers aren’t crossed.
A small gasp escapes as the gooey warm wax is generously spread over the top triangle of my va-jay-jay. Ok, I can do this, not bad.
Her cherub face appears over me. “How you doing, Lundyn?”
“Not too shabby, Monica.” I even give her a thumbs up. My confidence in the woman has risen about five notches. She’s knocking this out the park, and to think I was threatening to tit punch Harlow over this. I can be such a drama queen at times. Like I’m thinking I can get this done every two weeks or so.
And then…
Ripppppppp!
My eyes bulge out of my head, and my knuckles turn ashen as I dig my fingers into the soft cushion of the table. When my brain finally registers what just happened, a scream of death escapes my mouth.
“What the fuck Monica?” I yell as she rips the other strip, holy mother of pearl, she still has one more to go. Jesus take the wheel. Dear Lord, I need you now. I am being ripped to shreds by this polka dot dressed demon named Monica.
Ripppppppp!
Another blood-curdling scream and this time I curse Harlow and all her bright fucking ideas. Sweat beads form on my brow, and I have no other option but to breathe like I am in Lamaze class.
“You ok?”
What the fuck does she mean am I ok? Did she not hear my cries for help, is she insane? Before I can respond, I feel more warm wax added to the center part of my now tormented va-jay-jay.
Two more rounds of rips and screams come and then she heads to my butt crack. Monica and my relationship is
on the rocks right now, like seriously it’s her, not me.
“Hang in there, Lundyn this is our last part, and it’s the easiest,” she giggles before saying, “I promise.”
She’s such a little lying bitch.
“What I need you to do is grab your knees to your chest, so your bottom is spread for me.”
This is just…ugghhhh. Reluctantly I oblige, I mean I’ve gone this far, might as well be bald as a fucking eagle on my ass, too. Once again, she applies a thick layer of warm wax to both sides of my butt crack.
“Now, I’m going to need you to relax as I pull these strips off. Okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, got it, relax.” I regulate my breathing while giving myself a mental pep talk.
She tugs a little at the bottom of the strip, and it catches a piece of hair. I panic, I fucking panic and clench. And in the midst of this clenching, I adhere my ass cheeks together.
“Oh my, Lundyn I told you to relax,” she chastises loudly.
“I’m sorry. I got nervous Monica.”
“Well, you’re going to have to wait just a minute. I have to grab some scissors.” She starts to walk past me, but I grab her arm.
“Scissors for what?” Jesus Christ, what have I done that warrants scissors? I am full out sweating in places I shouldn’t be. Harlow is getting punched so fucking hard when she least expects it for talking me into this bullshit.
Monica looks down at me with sympathetic brown eyes. “You’ve managed to adhere your cheeks together and unless I cut the wax off they are going to stay that way.”
A lone tear travels down the side of my face, and I nod my understanding as I nudge her arm. “Go now Monica, get the scissors so you can unclip my ass cheeks.” I whimper and shoo her out the door.
I double check myself in the living room mirror once more. My outfit isn’t anything overly sexy since Maverick told me not to get too dressed up. I opted for a light pink with black polka dots tunic and paired it with a pair of black tights along with a pair of black booties. Harlow, of course, did my hair in loose ringlets with one side pinned back to “grunge it out” as she put it.
“How many times are you going to check yourself? It’s just Maverick,” Harlow asks with mock annoyance. She shoves another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth as she eyes me warily from the couch.
“Your BFF title has been revoked again, Harlow, so no more questions allowed,” I remind her. She was put on restrictions until I forgive her for the torture she convinced me to endure just hours earlier. Her small frame shrinks back into the couch.
“Hey, my tits are still sore from where you punched them, shouldn’t that be enough punishment?” she asks with a mouthful of ice cream while shielding her boobs.
I turn her direction, point my finger sternly, and rush toward her. “Ummm, no, my ass crack is still sore from two people having to cut wax out of it. So until that subsides, you are officially revoked.”
“I still don’t see what the big deal is, they did say the skin would grow back within a month.” She tucks her lips between her teeth trying to hide her laugh. Giving up on her, I do one more check and then make my way to sit down beside her.
“Gosh, quit molesting that ice cream Harlow,” I say just before I steal the pint from her hand. She yanks it back before I can even get a bite in my mouth. “No eating before your date. Besides, this ice cream is only reserved for dateless losers like myself.” She crinkles her nose as she takes another bite.
“Whatevs.” I blow out and start tapping my foot. I don’t know why I am so nervous, I mean it’s just Maverick and dinner. No big deal. Who the hell am I kidding? It is a big deal, a really huge fucking deal. It’s what I have wanted since freshman year in high school. Seeing the softer side of him this weekend really intensified this lifelong crush to where it's almost unbearable. He has my body so wound up I am terrified that I will spontaneously combust from the slightest touch from him. The doorbell rings saving me from my internal monolog.
I leap up from the couch and make a beeline for the door. Not wanting to seem desperate I count ten seconds before I casually open the door. Well, I’ll be damned, Maverick Strong is the first person to ever take my breath away. From the top of his perfectly styled hair, I begin my meticulous appraisal appreciating every ounce of him. His eyes twinkle with excitement, eliciting butterflies to flutter recklessly in my stomach. The way his nostrils flare before he begins to talk, and those gorgeous lips that are just screaming at me to touch them with mine, weakens my knees. Then comes the best part his body which is…
Confusion turns my eyes into slits as I tilt my head to the side. “Ummm why are you wearing your uniform?” Not trying to be a Complaining Cyndi…wait, shit, I sound like Harlow, but he looks damn good. My eyes slowly drift from his delectable lips to his chest, which I am only allowed a sneak preview of. His sleeves look like they were painted onto his toned biceps, and his belt sits atop his ass just right. This is sexiness at its finest, adorned with a badge and gun.
“Well, hi to you too, Lundyn.” He retorts before stepping through the doorway. His signature scent greets me pleasantly as he passes. I gather my jaw off the floor and follow him to where he stands above Harlow. He did say a date, right?
He claps his hands together once. “I know you’re probably confused, but I thought it would be cool to go on a ride along with me tonight.” Harlow slaps his hand away as he reaches for her ice cream.
“Ok, that’s your definition of a date?” I’m pretty sure the disappointment is written all over my face.
His eyes dart between Harlow and mine and his face goes slack. “Well, yeah. It’ll be fun, promise.”
If only he knew I would be ok, sitting on the curb talking all night; anything to be able to look into those gorgeous eyes and decadent lips. Of course, I can’t let him know that, so I go over to the entry table and grab my cross body and throw it over my shoulder. Even though my back is turned, I still feel his gaze. Turning around, I flip my hair over my shoulder, before I look up into his eyes that eagerly await my answer. A smug smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. “So are we going to do this or what?”
“Damn right we are.” It takes him three long strides to reach me, grabbing my hand in his large one before leading me out of the house. This is foreign yet feels like it should always have been this way.
“Bye you two,” Harlow exclaims from the couch.
We reply with a unified bye as we walk through the door.
Once we’re both secure in the squad car, I feel it’s important to go over some ground rules with Lundyn, for her safety and mine.
“Few things.” Turning my body to the right to look at her. I’m caught a bit off guard by the sight in front of me. She’s beautiful all the time, but seeing the ambitious glint in her eye, her grin that shows a sliver of her white teeth and those long black locks of hers framing her face, I just want to wrap her around me and get lost inside of her.
“Shoot… Wait, don’t shoot,” she laughs. “Give it to me straight, Officer Strong. Oh, I like the sound of that.” And then she feels my biceps, and I can’t help but flex for her.
I clear my throat and my mind. “Always stay in my sight. If we stop and get out anywhere, such as at a gas station, stay with me no matter what. Listen to me and look at me for nonverbal cues. You never know what situation we may find ourselves in, and I need you aware.” The seriousness in my tone causes her smile to falter, and she gives me a serious nod in agreement. “You’ll only be riding with me for about two hours tonight. I don’t want to keep you out all night and would rather make sure you’re safe.”
“Maverick, I watched, like, every episode of Cops and Law and Order: SVU. I think I’ve got this,” she states very matter-of-factly and settles into her seat with a smug look. I think my eyes may get stuck in the back of my head.
Lundyn scrolls through her phone while I buckle my seatbelt. “Do you have blue tooth?”
“Yeah.” Then I program her phone with the radio.
The minute we pull away from the curb, I regret it immensely.
The Cops theme song begins blaring through my speakers for all of five seconds before I silence it and pull over again.
“What?” Lundyn looks at me shocked. “It’s your theme song!” Her hand stretches toward the radio.
“No.” I point my stare directly at her. “It’s a TV show theme song, Blue. Your radio privileges have been revoked.”
Lundyn crosses her arms. “Ugh, fine. When do we stop for doughnuts?”
“Can you take this seriously?”
“I’m always serious about my carbs, Mav.” I ignore her banter and pull away from the curb again; soon we’re on the highway headed to the station.
“Please don't tell me this was all a joke, and there's really a warrant out for my arrest and this was your elaborate scheme to catch a hardened criminal like me. Are they going to give you an award for catching the finger shooting bandit?” All of Lundyn’s words run together at a fast pace.
With a chuckle, I say, “No. You have to fill out some paperwork before you can police the streets with me. Believe it or not, there's way worse out there than you.” Her hand goes to her chest in shock before I add, “I know. It's hard for me to believe, too.”
We arrive at the station, and before we enter through the doors, Lundyn pauses and shuffles her feet as if she's unsure. “I'm nervous.” The way her eyes search mine for strength is adorable.
“Have you committed any crimes lately?” I can feel the left side of my mouth draw up in a grin.
She rolls her eyes up in thought. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“I'm not sure that's a good thing, you may have been desensitized by your criminal behavior.” I joke, and it works. She smiles and walks up to the door I've pulled open for her.
“Think you can rehabilitate me? I may need to be restrained.” She winks at me, pats my butt and walks under my arm and through the door.
“That can be arranged, Blue,” I murmur next to her as we walk over to my desk where I left the paperwork.
Even though this is a small station, it’s still buzzing while suits and uniforms work dutifully at their task. Lundyn’s eyes dart around the space soaking in every conversation and move while listening to the phones ring and papers shuffle.
