Best Friends Page 2

“Yeah.” His dimples appeared. “I’ve never met so many commitment hungry women in one place before.” He smoothed his hand over the silky duvet.

  “I know. It’s a hotel bar. Who the hell looks for true love in a crummy hotel bar?”

  He sighed, his warm breath washing across my cheek. “I think it’s our age.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He dropped his lashes, hiding his expression. “We’re almost twenty-four. Women in their mid-twenties are looking for something more stable maybe.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m an expert.”

  “Hmmm.” I was nowhere near ready to settle down. I knew I had issues with being close to people. My patrol partner, Cheyanne, and Malcolm were really the only two people I trusted in this world.

  “Ever since Lucy and I split I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he murmured.

  “That’s a nice change.” I smirked.

  He punched my arm. “Shut up.”

  I stared at him in silence, a tiny smile on my lips.

  “As I was saying, I’ve been wondering why I can’t seem to find anyone I want to be with other than for sex. Ya know?” He gnawed on his lower lip, actually looking worried.

  “We’re still plenty young.”

  “Yeah, I know. But it seems like I should at least be thinking about being serious with a girl.”

  I understood exactly what he was saying since I was having the identical problem. It was weirder that he couldn’t find anyone. He had so much to offer someone, whereas I really didn’t. I was prickly and highly strung. I didn’t care for people a whole lot. Only the special ones that I handpicked to trust were allowed into my inner circle.

  “You’ll find her.”

  He glanced up, his expression hopeful. “You think so?”

  “Sure. You’re a chick magnet.”

  He grinned. “Yeah.” He didn’t even bother to argue. He knew it was true.

  “I’ll probably die alone.” I didn’t say that for pity. I was serious. The odds of finding a girl who would be willing to put up with me, who I also found attractive, seemed pretty slim.

  Malcolm’s mouth turned down. “You’ll always have me, C. I love ya, man. You know that, right?”

  My chest tightened with emotion. He had a natural ability to be affectionate and warm. Me, I was like a bank vault with my feelings. Why he’d ever befriended me all those years ago I would never know. This moment would have been a perfect opportunity for me to tell him how much I loved him too. Maybe share what a great friend he’d always been. But instead I just said, “You’re an awfully clingy son of a bitch. I’m not sure why I keep you around.”

  His smile was instant, and he had a knowing gleam in his eyes. “I know you love me. One of these days you’re going to say it to me.”

  “We’ll see.” I rolled over in the bed, turning my back on him, and he chuckled softly.

  Chapter Two

  “So how was the fly fishing convention?” Cheyanne asked. She was driving and I was riding shot gun. A lot of the guys didn’t like the women officers driving, but Cheyanne was more than competent at everything she did. She was only five seven and slim as a willow, but she was tough as nails too. Many a perp had been fooled by her short blonde hair and delicate features, not realizing their mistake until she had them on the ground in a choke hold.

  I fiddled with the radio, tuning dispatch in more clearly before answering. “It was good.”

  “Did Malcolm pick anyone up?” She grinned, glancing over at me. It was no secret Malcolm had a way with the ladies.

  The flood of heat that washed into my cheeks was disconcerting. What would she say if she knew what Malcolm and I had done together? Would she be horrified or embarrassed that I was her partner? Or would she high five me and be glad I’d finally had sex and ended the dry spell I was in?

  “Let’s just say he made some women very happy.” Malcolm and I had agreed we’d say we had both picked up a couple of girls. Everyone expected it anyway, and maybe we liked the lie because it made us feel more normal.

  “He’s a sexy beast.”

  “Yes, he is.” You have no idea.

  She perked up when she heard our unit mentioned over the radio. I gave the acknowledgment to dispatch and we headed toward our first call of the day. It was a domestic disturbance, which was one of my least favorites and statistically one of the more dangerous calls. When we arrived we found a big white guy with tattoos covering his entire body pacing back and forth in front of a ramshackle house with a brown lawn.

  The second we got out of the car he started yelling. “What the fuck are you doing here? This ain’t none of your business.”

  Cheyanne approached slowly, looking amazingly calm. “Sir, would you mind keeping your hands where we can see them?”

  The guy’s glazed eyes focused on her and he frowned. “I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

  “That’s probably true, but we have to come when someone calls us all the same.” I spoke up now, closing the distance between us. “Can you tell us what’s going on?”

  About that time a skinny, redheaded woman came slamming out of the house, her face flushed and her eyes angry. “You need to take his worthless ass the hell out of here. I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Oh really, bitch?” The guy lunged toward her, and Cheyanne moved quickly and kicked his feet out from under him before he knew what was happening. He went down like a rhinoceros with a loud grunt.

  Cheyanne straddled him and yanked his arms behind his back, slapping cuffs on smoothly. “You need to calm down, sir, so we can have a nice friendly chat.”

  I hid my grin, silently enjoying how efficiently she’d handled him. I moved to the woman who was staring at the guy warily. “Is he your husband?”

  She snorted. “Biggest mistake I ever made getting married to that asshole.”

  “You’re no walk in the park yourself,” he growled, spitting dirt out of his mouth.

  I cleared my throat. “You said you have a gun, Mrs…?”

  “Alma Lynne. Yes. But don’t worry, it’s registered.” She turned to address me. “I have a restraining order against him. But he gets high and thinks we need to talk. It usually goes downhill from there.” She scowled at the man lying in the dirt. “There’s nothing left to say, moron.”

  “This house is half mine,” he screeched.

  “You’ve never contributed one cent to the mortgage.”

  Cheyanne helped the guy sit up, and the front of his shirt and face was covered with dust. “Community property, baby.”

  “Are you divorced?” I asked the woman.

  She nodded. “Since we don’t have kids, thank God, we are supposed to sell the place and split the money equally.”

  I glanced at the hovel she was referring to, wondering who in their right mind would want to buy this shit hole.

  Giving a hard laugh, she said, “Exactly. I can see by your expression you understand the problem. None of the realtors want to bother listing this place, and even if they did what would we even get for it? It would take more to fix it up than it will ever be worth.”

  “It’s still half mine,” the man grumbled.

  “All that means is you get half of nothing.” Alma shook her head in disgust.

  “Frankly none of this even matters because you violated your restraining order, sir.” Cheyanne pulled him to his feet and moved toward the patrol car. “I would worry about that first if I were you.”

  Alma gave a weary sigh and met my gaze. “I don’t care about the house. I just want him to stop coming by and scaring me like this.” Her lip trembled and that was the first sign I’d seen that she was at all emotional about the situation.

  “Well, we’re going to arrest him, so hopefully you’ll have a few days of peace at least.” I felt bad that I couldn’t promise her more. But I didn’t know the guy’s record, and it all depended on what judge he dealt with. Some of them would fine guys like this and some of them would throw them in j
ail.

  “Thanks for coming all the same.” She turned and went back inside, slamming the door behind her.

  I slid into the car and gave the perp in the back a stern look. “If he’s done this more than once, he should be charged with aggravated stalking.”

  “I agree.” Cheyanne slipped the car into drive and headed to the station. “But it’s not up to me.”

  The rest of the calls during the day were pretty mundane. Some petty thefts and a bunch of druggies in cars getting blow jobs from hookers. Sometimes the seediness of the job got to me. I wanted to make a difference in my town, but days like this I felt like it was a losing battle. For every scumbag we pulled in two more seemed to pop up. It was like a masochistic game of Whack-a-mole.

  After work Cheyanne and I headed to our favorite watering hole called Frankie’s. All the guys met up there after work when they wanted a drink. The place was old school with dark paneling and vinyl booths. Frankie’s had been around so long there were pictures of Rock Hudson and Errol Flynn on the wall by the door, signed and everything.

  Malcolm was already sitting at the bar when we came in. My stomach clenched with lust at the sight of him, which was something new. I was always happy to see my best friend, but I wasn’t usually horny the second I laid eyes on him. As I approached I was positive his gaze swept over my body. There was a funny look in his eyes as I stopped next to him.

  “Hey.” He sounded breathless.

  I squeezed his shoulder, and the warmth in my gut intensified at the feel of his hard muscles under the thin layer of his T-shirt. “Did you just get here?” I tried not to fixate on his sexy mouth, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Yeah.” He pushed a beer toward me. “I already ordered yours.”

  “Thanks.” Our fingers brushed as I took my glass. A tingle zipped up my arm, straight to my chest. I kept my face blank, hoping no one could sense the excitement buzzing through my body.

  “Cheyanne, what can I get you to drink?” Malcolm asked my partner.

  “I’m in a gin and tonic kind of mood.” She slapped his back and sat on the other side of him. “Thanks.”

  Malcolm ordered her drink and I sat beside him, allowing my leg to rest next to his. I couldn’t seem to help myself. I felt like I needed to touch him in some way in order to relax. He didn’t move away. If anything he pressed closer, giving me a hooded look. The memory of his lips on my cock took over everything in my head. My heart rate kicked up at the thought of him coming in my mouth, and I swallowed wrong and choked on my beer.

  I guess some things were easier to swallow than others.

  Malcolm slapped my back, and I winced. I finally stopped coughing, and I sucked in a breath and laughed. “Thanks. You can stop hitting me now.”

  He grinned and switched to rubbing my back, which did nothing to make my hardening erection go down. What was wrong with me? This was my best buddy. We only did what we did because we were bored and horny. It was a one-time deal. I needed to chill out and get back to the friend zone with Malcolm.

  “How was your shift?” he asked. Something seemed to smolder deep in his gaze as he watched me.

  “Depressing, as usual.” I ignored the fluttering in my gut. Friends don’t get a hard-on just because their buddy looks at them. Get a grip.

  “I keep telling him he should have been a dog groomer. It would have been less stressful,” Cheyanne teased with a smirk over Malcolm’s shoulder.

  “Dogs don’t like me,” I said, giving her a fake dirty look.

  “Everybody loves you, C.” Malcolm’s tone was velvety.

  “Ha. That’s a good one.” I shook my head, then took another sip of my drink. The heat of his leg next to mine was distracting.

  A girl came wandering up and, big surprise, she stopped next to Malcolm. She was hot: big boobs, curvy hips and long, tanned legs. She had a pretty face too, full lips and bright blue eyes. She ran her red-tipped fingers through her long blonde hair and sighed. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” She smiled coyly, and Malcolm turned toward her, slipping his arm around her waist.

  “It’s definitely you,” he purred.

  The irritation I felt at the two of them flirting was unreasonable. Irrational. But that pulsing annoyance was still trapped in my chest like a hot air balloon. He’s your friend. His sex life is none of your fucking business, stupid. In fact I should have been trying to find a girl to screw instead of worrying about who my friend might fuck. I scanned the immediate area. There were a few girls that were pretty, and they even had great bodies. But I couldn’t seem to drum up any interest in pursuing them. I told myself they probably wouldn’t be into me anyway.

  Cheyanne met my ill-tempered gaze and she arched one brow. “Everything okay?” she mouthed.

  I shrugged and turned my attention to my beverage, studiously trying to ignore Malcolm and the girl. I’d seen my buddy work his magic on many a woman. Why was tonight so annoying to me? Every time the two of them laughed stridently it made my jaw clench.

  The blonde was giggling louder now and touching Malcolm every chance she got. I guess I couldn’t blame her. He just had that effect on women. I shifted my leg from his, feeling pissy. He gave me a frown when I moved away, and he seemed to focus on me suddenly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, meeting the gaze of the girl currently wrapping herself around him like a shawl. “Nothing. Who said anything was wrong?”

  “Hey, you want me to get you a girl too?” the blonde asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

  I flushed and gave a hard shake of my head. “I’m more than capable of handling that myself,” I grumbled.

  She held up her hands, smiling. “Don’t get mad. You just seem kind of shy.”

  “That isn’t shyness,” Cheyanne said under her breath with a laugh.

  “I have a couple of girlfriends who like the silent type.” The blonde winked at me.

  “No, thanks.” You could have scrambled an egg on my cheeks they were so hot.

  Malcolm was watching our interaction with a weird look on his face. “Yeah, C. can get his own women. You don’t need to help him,” he said softly.

  “I’m going to get some air.” I stood and downed my beer quickly. Then I wiped my mouth and headed for the back exit. The cool, damp air of the night filled my lungs, calming me a bit.

  Behind the bar were the usual dumpsters and trash cans. But there was a little park area about ten feet away with grass and tall, thin aspens. It was a strange little oasis in the middle of all these buildings. In the old days I’d have had a cigarette over there by those trees, but I’d quit years ago. I still got that urge to light up, though, whenever I stepped out here. I made my way to the small grove of trees and sat on a rock, feeling depressed.

  When the back door opened, a skip of excitement passed through me as I recognized Malcolm. He looked around and, spotting me, he approached with long, graceful strides.

  “Why are you out here?” he asked, sounding puzzled.

  “I needed to get out of there. It was too stuffy.” I avoided his glittery gaze, and somehow even in the dark his stare managed to be intense.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Yeah, I don’t like that girl hanging on you. I couldn’t say that, now could I? I shouldn’t even be thinking that. It made no sense. We’d gone out and picked up girls all our life together. Why would it be any different now?

  “Nope. Life is perfect.” Okay, maybe that was laying it on a little thick.

  “I know you too well. What’s bothering you?” His tone was coaxing and he knelt down in front of me.

  His cologne filled my nostrils, bringing back memories of our night together at the convention. My chest tightened and I caught my breath. “I’m in a weird mood.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.”

  “You didn’t have to follow me out. I’m fine.”

  “Something’s bugging you and I want to know what it is.”

  I swallowed nervously. “It
’s just the usual stuff, Malcolm. I’ll be fine.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he looked confused. Then he blinked a couple of times and straightened. “Well, I’m probably taking that chick home with me. You want to find a girl and we can double?”

  We’d done that a million times. Take two girls home and fuck them. It was no biggie to us. We were best buds. We did everything together. Why tonight did I feel like throwing up at the thought of it? I was not even remotely interested in sex with some girl tonight. What was more worrisome was I was bothered by the concept of watching him sink his dick into a woman.

  I stood abruptly, and on trembling legs headed toward my car. “Nah. Sorry. You have to fly solo on the pussy front tonight, dude.”

  “C.,” he called after me, sounding frustrated. “What the fuck is wrong?”

  I just waved at him and sank into the safety of my car. Then I tore out of the parking lot like the gay police were gonna get me and headed home alone.

  Chapter Three

  The next few weeks zipped by. I found myself checking out other guys to see if it sparked anything inside of me. I mean, if I was now into Malcolm sexually, it made sense I might be attracted to other guys. But other men conjured none of the strong feelings I’d experienced with Malcolm. I avoided Frankie’s until I could get a handle on what was going on with me and Malcolm. I was embarrassed and afraid that if I hung out with him too much he’d figure out I had issues. I didn’t want to have issues. I wanted everything to go back to how it had been before. But I didn’t know how to make that happen. I now seemed to have the memory of that one sexual encounter with Malcolm burned for all eternity in my brain. But he seemed fine, as if he’d easily forgotten it ever happened.

  There was an uptick in crime in our area. The only good part about that was I was able to grab lots of overtime. That made my not hanging out at Frankie’s bar more relatable. Anyone could understand that if I was working a ton of extra shifts I didn’t have time to get drunk and chase girls. And most of my coworkers didn’t even seem to notice I wasn’t around much. But Cheyanne and Malcolm noticed.