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CODY
The high of last night, and the earlier part of the day, wore off after some time away from Robert. He'd been super professional and hadn't found extra excuses to hang around me. He also hadn't texted. Possibly I was feeling a little bit sad about that.
I'd been so sure he'd want to see me again, but now I was having doubts. Also, ice cream. Also, watching a movie. I was curled up in pajamas on my couch, and absolutely not pitying myself. Not one little bit. I debated calling Tomas. I wanted to know what he and Robert had talked about, what he'd been asked, what he'd shared.
Had Robert asked if I was overworked? What had Tomas said in reply? It would be interesting to pick his brain, but I knew if I called him, he'd be able to tell I was feeling sad, and probably why. He was intelligent like that, about people.
Besides, did I really want to know what he thought of my capacity to work, or how the precinct treated me? I guess I already sort of did know. He probably thought I should have a partner. That way, I wouldn't be hanging on him. Well, I wasn't bothering him tonight. I wasn't interrupting his evening, or his time with friends, family, or lover. I was minding my own business. Eating a lot of ice cream. And being very good about not texting anyone. Someone should be proud of me, even if it was just myself.
My phone chimed. I'm not proud of how fast I dived for it. I may have also let out an undignified squawk.
It was Tomas. My heart sank. Apparently, I had really been hoping for Robert. Well, I knew I liked the guy, but I hadn't expected my heart to sink at the sight of Tomas texting me, because it never had before, and I was just thinking about him and feeling noble for not bothering him. So I should be glad. Yes, glad to hear from him. Very glad to hear from my friend Tomas.
Swallowing thickly, I read his text. He seems like a nice guy, wrote Tomas.
He sounded like he was trying very hard to stay neutral. I wondered what he really thought. If I called him, would he tell me? Was it worth the effort? I didn't want to bother him, and I didn't want to seem even more pathetic than I probably already did.
My phone rang. It was Robert.
I may have squawked. I almost dropped the phone in my hurry to answer him. I tried to make my voice sound normal, calm. "Yes," I asked.
"It's me, Robert," said Robert. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I just wanted to say hi."
"Hi," I said. "You're very professional on the job.
"Well, I've got to be," he said. "You were pretty professional yourself."
"Thanks?" I said. But I was smiling now. He sounded like he was, too.
"I guess you're too tired to see me tonight?"
"No, not at all," I said calmly. But my heart was beating hard.
He wanted to see me? Had the ice cream, pajamas, and pity party been too soon? I guess I was used to people not being very serious about me, or I'd have given him longer to get in touch. Maybe even called him myself. After all, he hadn't said I couldn't.
"Will it hurt your investigation to see me?" I couldn't help asking. I didn't want him to get in trouble.
"I don't think so," he said, "but I want to see you even if it does."
The raw admission almost left me breathless. "I want to see you, too."
"Good," he said. "You can call me, you know. You don't have to wait for me to call you. If you want to."
I licked my lips. I wasn't sure how to answer. Eventually I settled on the words, "I don't want to be too needy."
He snorted, but it didn't sound like he was laughing at me. Maybe this situation, but there was nothing mocking about him, not now, not ever. "I guess you'd rather I was needy?"
I was grinning now. "Well, if you have to ask, you already know the answer," I told him. "Let's be real. I'm always the guy doing the chasing. It gets awkward after a while. I practically hunted you down, dragged you off the job, and brought you home with me yesterday. I figured you needed a break from me."
He cleared his throat. "No, I don't need a break. And it was very much mutual. Don't you worry about that."
I was trying not to grin as I played with my hair. "So you want to see me?" I asked.
"I want to see you," he said. "Your place or mine?"
Just then, my phone trilled with another text from Tomas. I didn't look at it. "Mine," I said, "if that's okay with you. I'll cook you something nice. If you want."
"If you'd rather go to a restaurant," he offered, "or a taco truck or something."
I didn't want to be in public with him. I wanted him all to myself. "I make some pretty good tacos," I countered.
"Then I'll be there soon," he said.
I couldn't wait.
I had just enough time to clean up and start some tacos before he arrived. I whistled while I worked, my low mood and ice cream cravings completely gone. Was that all it took? Robert coming to visit?
Well, "visit." Obviously, we'd have sex.
Maybe he'd even sleep over tonight. My mouth twitched into an even bigger smile at the thought.
Something about having him beside me all night, not in a hurry to rush off, had been so wonderful. Maybe I'd even get to make him breakfast again. If we got up early enough, he wouldn't have to rush through it.
My smile dimmed a little. What was going to happen when he left? If I was this attached to him already, how hard would I take it? Let's face it, we'd spent one night together, and I'd been ready to go into breakup despair mode when I thought that might be all there was. Not...a great look.
I told myself sternly not to think about it. I could deal with him leaving when he did. Besides, it wasn't like I was going to be here forever. Maybe we could do something long distance, if he was interested, or eventually find a way to be together. There was nothing saying he would want that, but relationships with less chemistry than ours sometimes ended up being long term, so why not?
Robert was wonderful, but there was something wounded about him, underneath his strength, competence, and kindness. I guess knowing he'd worked with a shifter and lost him on the job was enough to explain it. The fact that he'd managed to survive his pain and loss and turn to helping others showed just how strong he was. But it seemed like it had come at a cost.
I wished I could help him be sure it was okay to move on, if that's what he wanted to do, but how could I know what was right for him?
I was still thinking about it when he got there.
I left the stove impulsively and wrapped my arms around him and gave him a big kiss.
When we drew apart, he was grinning. "Hey. Nice to see you, too." He sniffed the air. "Something smells delicious."
"Thanks." I moved back to the stove, adjusted the cooking temperature deftly, and then turned back to smile at him. "We can chat, eat, watch a movie—or if you're in a hurry, the food can wait." I grinned at him and waggled my eyebrows. I felt like I needed to be silly to lighten the mood, and also, I was absolutely willing to eat later if that's what he wanted.
"You're very generous," said Robert. Was he blushing, just slightly? "I don't want to spoil supper."
"It can simmer on low. It will only improve the flavor."
He drew me back to him and in for another kiss, this one longer, lingering. "I guess if it could improve the flavor," he said, from very close, resting his forehead against mine. We were both grinning. My smile felt slightly cracked, though. This sweet man had lost his partner and spent his life ever since trying to keep others safe.
How was he bothering to spend time with me? And how was he so perfect?
I adjusted the temperature on the meat again and said, "You know the way." Was that too casual? I hoped not. I let him lead, but I followed closely, a hand on his lower back, wanting to keep touching him.