by T Gephart
“And what would we do? When we saw each other?” Her voice was low, seductive, which probably hadn’t been her intention, not that my cock gave a shit. Her eyes didn’t leave mine as I moved closer, the gap between us barely platonic.
“I have ideas,” I breathed out, wondering when some asshole either of us worked with would burst into the room and ruin our moment. It was only a matter of time, and I was far from being ready to wave her goodbye. “Give me your number and I’ll show you every last one.”
I wasn’t sure what I wanted more.
To kiss her, to touch her, or the promise that I’d see her again.
But all of that would have to wait.
“Give me your phone.” She held out her hand, her face completely impassive as I grinned like I’d won the fucking lottery, digging out my cell from my pocket.
Her brow rose as it dropped into her palm, adding her number as I looked on. “This better be your number, Ricci. I like this little back-and-forth we have going on, but I’m not in the mood to get hauled in by McKinley and Deets for real.”
She laughed, the sound warming my chest as she handed it back, her name and number still displayed on the screen. “I never took you as someone with trust issues, Tibbs. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll stand here while you call it.”
I shook my head, believing that she hadn’t slipped in the digits for a local pizza place or worse, the number of her ex-boyfriend. “You’ll be hearing from me.”
It was a promise, the need to see her again so visceral that I couldn’t even understand it considering she hadn’t even left yet.
“See you around, Tibbs.” She turned, not giving any indication on how she felt about it either way.
And fuck me, if that didn’t just make it more interesting.
Tessa
“HOW DID HE take it?” Miller was waiting for me outside the West 38th Stationhouse.
We’d tailed McKinley and Deets on their way over, hanging back because I assumed at some point they were going to have questions.
“He wasn’t even mad,” I huffed out in disbelief, shaking my head. “It was almost as if he was pleased.”
It usually wasn’t my style to recruit the help of others when I wanted to prove a point, fairly capable of getting it done myself. But if I’d walked into the firehouse—citing the need to do a wellness check on Tibbs—the ruse would have lasted at most two minutes. Three, if he was taken by surprise.
Instead we’d told McKinley and Deets—two uber-concerned, strait-laced cops who’d transferred from upstate—that Tibbs had behaved a little erratically the night before.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie, the moron hanging around the street while we attended a call like a stalker. And wouldn’t you believe that I hadn’t even needed to suggest they go pay him a visit, the pair of them volunteering to make sure our buddy in the FDNY was doing okay.
So maybe I felt a little—like a tiny bit—bad that their well-meaning concern had been unfounded and unnecessary. McKinley giving me an earful on how wrong it was to joke about someone’s mental health. And sure, I was going right to hell, because the idea that someone having a genuine hard time was not a joking matter. Usually I’d be the last person to ever try to minimize anyone’s struggle or trivialize it in any way.
I’d seen the fallout from trauma on the job.
Heard both my parents talk about their friends who dealt with PTSD.
But Tibbs.
Uhhhhhh, he just brought out the worst in me.
And while I did feel guilty about it, and possibly remorseful, I was slightly annoyed that the only irritation had come from the two officers and not from Tibbs himself. It didn’t speak volumes of my personal character, the stupid prank something I’d expect from a cadet straight out of the academy rather than someone like me.
Still, right or wrong, good or bad, I couldn’t make myself regret it.
“I know you explained it to me, and I’m not trying to be an asshole. But seriously, what the hell happened the other night? You and Tibbs? He’s the last guy in the city I’d imagine you with.”
I’d had no choice but to tell Miller the whole sordid tale last night after our little run in with Tibbs on the street. He had questions, naturally, and then wanted to know how much I’d had to drink.
It was true, as couples went, we were unlikely.
Mostly since he’d never so much as looked in my direction, let alone shown any interest. And I’d never breathed a word to anyone about my earlier attraction to the guy who Miller assumed I saw as a buddy. And I didn’t disagree. The idea of the two of us becoming more . . . well, I wasn’t convinced that maybe I wasn’t the one who needed the wellness check.
Realistically, even if we did—and that was a really big if—go out on a date, that would be as far as it went.
One date.
Possibly two, because he would try to sleep with me, and there was no way I would after only dating him one time.
So maybe we’d go out two times. And then he’d realize I wasn’t going to fall into his bed or offer to give him a blowjob in a dark corner, and he’d get bored. Because there was no way he was interested in me in any way that was long term.
Sure, he might have found me attractive, having seen me out of uniform and looking more like a regular woman. But I wasn’t delusional. He probably saw a lot of beautiful women who were a whole lot more available than I was. And as much as I would love to believe Tibbs wasn’t anything special, he kinda was.
He was charming, and funny, and smarter than he pretended to be. And if you could overlook that cockiness, you saw he was actually really sweet too. Of course he was also a gorgeous guy with an amazing body who was outstanding at his job. And yes, I will admit, that firemen are kind of hot.
“Tibbs and I are just friends, Grayson.” I rolled my head to look at him, only calling him by his first name when I was serious. “And I’m sure that’s all we’ll ever be. He’s just discovered that I have a pair of tits and a vagina, and he’s not sure what to do about it. But I’m under no delusions that I’m going to be his next girlfriend. Does he even have girlfriends? Pretty sure he is a serial one-nighter with commitment issues, and the last thing I need in my life. But, and I’ll say this only to you, because I don’t trust anyone else not to take it the wrong way. I like hanging out with him. He makes me laugh, and I love how he isn’t scared to speak his mind around me. Even if most of it is inappropriate. Maybe we end up being just better friends. Surely that can’t be a bad thing?” I ran out of steam, all the thoughts that had been going through my head finally spoken out loud.
Because as much as I was attracted to Tibbs, I knew there was no real future for us. There couldn’t be. Not when the only thing we really had in common was we wanted to sleep with each other.
Ahhhh yes.
I said I wouldn’t sleep with him, not that I didn’t want to.
Miller shrugged, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb. “Tessa, if you want to date, screw, or just get to know, Tibbs, you’re not going to hear judgment from me. But thinking he isn’t going to want you as his girlfriend is the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard. Do you honestly think he’s going to spend time with you, get to know the real Tessa Ricci and decide, nah, I don’t want any of that? Wow, you are even more delusional than I thought.”
Miller was good for my ego, but that’s what best friends were for. They built you up even when you didn’t believe it yourself, and trust me, there was nothing wrong with my self-esteem. “And yet, you’ve resisted,” I pointed out, the idea of the two of us ever dating so laughable I could barely say it without choking.
“Meh, I was scared of you initially. It made it easier for me to fight the attraction. Then you became more like my sister, and well, I ain’t into that.” He laughed. “Sucks to be you though, because I’m a fantastic boyfriend. If you’d just been less intimidating at the start, you might have had a chance. Unfortunately now, it’s too late.”
“Wow, no wonder I’m looking at Tibbs,” I sighed drily. “Girl gets that kind of rejection, and she’s just not sure what to do.”
All jokes aside, I hadn’t exactly been lucky in the love department. It was hard to find a guy that wasn’t scared off by the job or the badge. And more times than not, it didn’t last long. And for what it was worth, I wasn’t all that sad about it, believing that I deserved a lot more than a guy who could only stick it out a week or two before running. I assumed if I was ever going to find someone for the long haul, he’d have to be some beefed-up Special Ops guy who didn’t care his wife carried and had a mean right hook.
Still, Tibbs . . .
What was the harm in indulging the distraction? As long as I played it smart and kept it casual, there’d be no reason why I couldn’t have some fun. At least until my Special Ops guy showed up and took me to his bunker.
Luckily for me, the rest of our night was so busy, Miller and I didn’t have time to talk about Tibbs. We’d been on call after call, limping into the station shortly before midnight, ready to hand over to the next shift.
“You want to grab a late dinner/early breakfast before we head back over to Brooklyn?” Miller offered, yawning as he grabbed his keys. “I know it’s counterproductive since I should go to bed and sleep when I get home, but I need a coffee in the worst way.”
I completely understood the predicament, the desire to refuel especially after a long eight hours at odds with the need to power down and get some decent sleep. But since I usually laid awake for a few hours anyway, I saw no issue with spending part of that time with Miller and carbs.
“You want to get one to go and then eat at that place near my apartment? They have 24-hour breakfast and I would love some waffles.”
With our plan in place, we hopped into Miller’s Honda Civic and headed back to our side of town. Since we lived so close and worked the same hours, we usually carpooled, seeing no point in taking two cars. We didn’t even stop for coffee, Miller deciding to get one with breakfast, talking about the plate of bacon and eggs he had in his future like it was his dirtiest fantasy.
Brooklyn didn’t have the same vibe as Manhattan; it was so much more laid back. And while I’d absolutely love to live in the city—if I could get a decent price for my kidney on the black market—I didn’t mind being a little farther out. It helped that Grayson lived there too, the two of us spending more time together than most couples.
We pulled into a parking lot, the place mostly deserted except for a beat-up truck and a shiny new sedan. Since we were still in uniform, I liked the idea of it being mostly empty. Not that I wasn’t unbelievably proud of being a cop and serving the city, but inevitably it—the uniform—attracted attention. Most times it was great, citizens giving you their appreciation and thanks. But not everyone was a fan.
Miller pulled open the glass door, a bell at the top announcing our arrival. The waitress didn’t even blink, sashaying her way to us and shooting us a smile. After an over-excited greeting—I assumed it had been a slow night for her—we were seated in a booth with a pair of menus.
“I want the biggest serving of waffles you have,” I didn’t even bother looking at the other options. “And coffee. Oh, maybe some hash browns on the side.”
“And I’ll have the big breakfast, extra bacon, and a coffee as well,” Miller followed, having already decided what he wanted before we’d even left Manhattan.
“I like it, you know what you want.” The waitress smiled. “I’ll put your orders in right now and get you those coffees.”
“Soooooooo . . .” Miller deliberately left the sentence trailing. “Where you and Tibbs going on your big date?” His brows lifted suggestively in case I hadn’t gotten the hint with his tone.
“You know, he might not even call me. Maybe he just collects numbers and scrolls through his phone whenever he needs an ego boost,” I deadpanned, not believing for a second Tibbs wouldn’t use the number at least one time.
“We already established you’re awesome and he’s going to fall madly in love with you,” Miller yawned, suppressing a grin. “Not sure Tibbs is the only one who likes getting that ego boost, Ricci. Sounds to me like you guys would make a perfect pair.”
“Oh please, I’m nothing like Tibbs. NOTHING. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll take that back.” The threat had barely settled when my phone lit up with an incoming call.
Like the devil had been summoned, I had no doubt of the identity of the unknown number.
Tibbs.
Unless that Saudi Prince was calling me back, offering me another chance at forty-two million if I’d just give him my bank details. But I’d say the smart bet was on the fireman probably still on duty in Midtown.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Miller gameshow waved his hand at my buzzing phone. “Wouldn’t want him to think you were dodging his calls.”
Rolling my eyes, I swiped the incoming call and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello,” I said curtly, wondering if he’d literally been waiting until I was done with work, or he called everyone at ridiculous o’clock in the morning.
“Ricci,” he cooed into the phone, his voice thick like he’d been sleeping. “Do you always sound so pissed off on the phone or is that venom just reserved for me? Got to tell you, if you’re trying to turn me on, it’s working.”
Wow.
Really, Tessa?
This was what I wanted?
So apparently I was attracted to guys with God complexes who got off on my distaste. And here I thought he was the one with the problem.
“What do you want, Tibbs? A bedtime story?” I breathed into the phone. “Or did you think I’d be in bed by now, hoping I’d tell you I was naked between my sheets and dreaming about you.”
He coughed, clearing his throat. “Fuck, Tessa. You have to warn a guy before you say something like that. At least let me get somewhere private where I can enjoy it.”
“I’m not in bed, or naked, or dreaming of you, Tibbs,” I yawned, purposely ignoring how much I liked hearing him say my name. It wasn’t the first time, but somehow it felt a little different. “But I am hungry and tired, so if you were looking for cheerful, you’re gonna be shit out of luck.”
“Not looking for anything other than to check your schedule. Figured I’d catch you before you went to sleep. I know how insane your days can be, especially when you have to head into work later.”
Unlike the FDNY, who worked twenty-four on, forty-eight off, NYPD worked eight-hour shifts, five days straight. And depending on which rotation you were on, that workday didn’t always land during regular business hours. Currently Miller and I were rocking the four to twelve. Which meant mornings were usually a flurry of getting laundry done, groceries, working out, dealing with regular everyday shit, and then going to work when most people were heading home.
Factor in sleep, and downtime was limited. It also meant catching up with friends or dating was also left for those two prized days off, whenever they landed. Guess my schedule and constant rotations probably hadn’t helped my love life either.
It was surprisingly more considerate than I’d expected, my eyes narrowing as I waited for the extra sexual innuendo or whatever Tibbs usually added.
“And?” I asked between the pause.
“And?” Tibbs chuckled. “And what? I said you could pick the place and activity so the and is pretty much on you. Unless you want me to take the lead, Ricci, and then I can do that.”
Still nothing.
Almost as if it were just a regular guy asking me on a regular date, which couldn’t be right because there was nothing regular about Tibbs.
Miller’s gaze flicked to me, only hearing one side of the conversation and trying to piece it together with limited information and my animated reaction. “What?” he whispered, waving his hand as I sat in stunned silence.
“Justin.” His name felt weird in my mouth, unsure if I’d ever called him that. “I know we’ve both been having fun with th
is, but are you seriously asking me out?”
It was unlike me to call the time-out, not liking how exposed it made me feel. For all I knew, he was going to laugh his ass off, the, “Jesus, Ricci, you really thought I was serious?” ready in his mouth. But I was tired, and confused, and completely lost on the rules of engagement. And if that gave him the upper hand, then I’d deal with it accordingly. Redirection was always a possibility, and I could work within parameters when I knew what they were.
Currently, with Tibbs, I had no idea.
“Umm, yeah, what did you think I was doing?” His voice was liquid, no hint of the humor or ridicule I’d been bracing myself for.
Why? I wanted to ask, the question swallowed because there was no way I’d ever show him that much vulnerability. Instead it hung around my neck, feeling like a woolen scarf that was wrapped around too tight.
Shaking off feelings I really didn’t understand, I decided I was overthinking it way too much. So what? He was asking me out—one time—and we’d already established it was probably just to get into my pants since he’d noticed I was a woman. Big deal!
Annnnnd I knew he had the ability to be charming, he’d just never directed it at me. Again, nothing new to see here. Why I was even concerned about what his intentions were, was a mystery. Because we’d be back to regular scheduling—i.e. being smart asses and largely ignoring each other—probably within a week.
“Well, if I can pick whatever.” I cleared my throat, deciding that I could at least control the tempo. “How do you feel about meeting me on Friday? You’ll be off, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll have Friday and Saturday off. You?”
“Same,” I nodded, the universe having a sense of humor in that we shared the same two scheduled days off.
“Must be fate,” he chuckled before turning serious. “So, Friday, what are we doing? And please don’t disappoint me with dinner and a movie, Ricci. The stars are literally aligning for this to happen, I don’t want to waste it on some mediocre bullshit.”
