Danika

Dammit, I’m early again.

At least Greer isn’t scheduled as our instructor today. Not that I can avoid him after the deal I made with the devil yesterday, but I’ll ride this wave of avoidance as long as possible. Whether out of nerves or . . . curiosity, I couldn’t stop myself from rehearsing our first phone call in the shower this morning. In the beginning, I was dead set on launching straight into an explanation of my whereabouts, followed by a quick assurance that I’m staying out of trouble—kind of like I have been for twenty-six years—after which I would hang up without waiting for a response.

That’s what the lieutenant expects from me, right?

Around the time the water began to run cold, though, I decided I don’t want to be predictable. As soon as I’m dismissed for the day, I’m going to march into his precinct and shock the smug expression right off his face.

Yeah.

There really should be a sense of victory at the thought of giving him a jolt. And there is. After all, I humbled myself in front of the man, admitted I made a mistake and asked for his help, taking several blows to my pride in the process. It wasn’t easy for me and he knew it. Instead of cutting me some slack, he made himself my babysitter for the next month. Reporting my movements to my über-demanding instructor during my free hours is so not on my bucket list.

But. I kind of brought this on myself, didn’t I? Thus curbing my satisfaction over ruffling his feathers. A lot of the things he said yesterday were . . . reasonable. I almost got the impression it was important to him that I understand his methods. His code. I’ve always assumed he was just a natural born asshole, but I spent the night tossing in my bed, wondering if I overlooked something.

Not only in Greer, but in myself. It was all gravy when I could chalk my reluctant fascination with the lieutenant up to his He-Man thighs. But I’ve been replaying that demonstration in my head with alarming frequency and seeing . . . feeling . . . other things. I liked the way it felt having him look down at me, that hard jaw bunched up to match his shoulders. I liked my back smacking the mat and knowing he would let me up when he was good and ready. That until then, I didn’t have to be proactive or in control of anything.

That’s not me. Is it?

Bottom line: the sooner these four weeks are over, the better.

The only sound in the academy hallway is my footsteps walking toward the locker room. I’m one of about a dozen female recruits, and none of them have arrived yet, so I’m alone among the interesting smells and dripping faucets. Quickly and efficiently, I change into gray yoga pants and my white uniform shirt, don my sneakers. The slam of my locker is still ringing in the air when I wheel back into the hallway and jog to the gymnasium entrance.

I come to a quick stop just inside the door. Leaning against a stack of mats, Greer is studying the clipboard in his hands with a frown. He looks up at my entrance, his gaze ticking down for a split second to my legs, before rising again.

“Lieutenant.” I hide a wince at the breathless quality of my voice. “I was jogging. That’s why I sounded like that. So.”

He just stares at me.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that, Silva. The other instructor is sick.” His tongue slides along the corner of his mouth, distracting me. Too much. “Thank you for staying on top of my schedule.”

And just like that, we’re back on familiar ground. Only, we’re not really. He witnessed me in a desperate moment and bailed me out. It wouldn’t kill me to make a tiny effort to show my appreciation. In my own unique way, of course. “Why so cranky? They didn’t have the right ingredients for your protein shake this morning?”

“I make my own.” He hugs the clipboard to the side of his thigh. “Smart-ass.”

The laugh bursts out of me before I can wrangle it. He seems taken aback by the sound, like it’s an offensive, winged creature flying past his face. “So you come in early even when I’m not here.”

“That’s right.” I pull my right ankle up to my butt, groaning as the move stretches my sore quad. “I come early for myself. Not for those little notes you make on your clipboard.” Am I imagining things or does he look disappointed? “Do you walk around your apartment with that thing?” I lower my voice and attempt to mimic his low rasp. “Minus two arbitrary points, dust bunnies. Better form next time.”

That corner of his mouth—the corner he licked—hops up. “You assume there’s never any living, breathing humans in my apartment to judge.”

I don’t see it coming. That has to be why jealousy hits my stomach like a spiked volleyball. Greer and women. Women and Greer. How many are there? How frequently? Are any of them serious? All of a sudden, it’s an effort to make words. “I didn’t . . . I wasn’t asking—”

“Book club.” The two words are delivered on a sigh, like he’s already bored with the conversation. But his eyes are on me like a hawk. “Sometimes my book club comes over.”

The jealousy doesn’t subside right away, hanging around like hot pins stuck into my shoulders and neck, but . . . it ebbs the more I process what he’s telling me. “You’re a member of a book club?” He goes back to making notes on his clipboard, just a brick shit-house cop with flexing cannons for biceps who has a book club. “Is it just an excuse to drink wine, like my mother’s book club? Or do you actually have discussions?”

“Picture me drinking wine, Silva.”

“You’re right, that was a stretch. Beer?”

A tight nod. “Only if I’m not working the next morning.”

“Of course,” I say with exaggerated gravity. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

Dammit, the jealousy is still prickly. Have to purge it. No choice. “What kind of people belong to this club? Just men, or . . .”

He’s quiet a moment, simply studying me. “We should work on your interrogation technique while you’re on probation.” Shit. I had that coming. A moment later, I’m relieved right down to my toes when he doesn’t probe for the reason I asked. Like I even know the answer to that? “Yes, we have discussions. Usually about whatever thriller we’ve just read. Or in my case, listened to.” His tone deepens. “It’s cops, mostly. Active and retired.” A pause. “Just men, Danika.”

I suck in a breath and look down at the mat, trying to play it cool that he called me by my first name. But there’s nothing cool about the sensitivity of my nipples, how they pucker inside my sports bra, as if the lieutenant did way more than just say my name. That can’t be all it takes for him to make me . . . horny. Okay, Jesus, yes. I’m horny for the lieutenant. All because he said my first name, the way I said his yesterday. Like we’re trading an inside joke that isn’t meant to be funny at all. Or maybe it’s how I can feel him staring at me right now, deep blue eyes reaching up beneath my clothes and making me uncomfortably hot.

The gymnasium door blows open, and two recruits walk in, distracting me from my mental strip show. One is a determined-looking Levi, and, yeah, my burgeoning cop sense tells me I’m not going to escape being asked out today. There’s a sour gurgle in my stomach at the idea of Greer watching it happen, which is ridiculous, so I shake it off. Behind Levi is his friend Nick, who never really says much, but likes to hang out in Levi’s shadow. Not easy, considering he’s twice as heavyset and several inches taller.

“Hey there,” Levi says, crashing down on the mat beside me. “Exactly how early do we need to get here to stop you from making us look bad?”

I’m still hyperaware of Greer within earshot. Why? So he called me by my first name. That doesn’t mean I should avoid talking to other guys. Or that he even wants me to. This new awareness I have of him needs to bounce or it’s going to be an awkward few weeks. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” I respond. “Or lap you again during cardio. I haven’t decided.”

“Ouch. Don’t pull any punches,” Levi teases, flirting with me. Again. Why do I mind so much? Before Lieutenant Sinewy Thighs was introduced into my life, I would have jumped all over Levi’s attention. He’s got a good sense of humor and that Disney Prince smile. Heck, he smiles. Period. “Today is the day, Silva,” Levi continues, dragging me back to reality. “You’re finally going to give in to my out-of-control charms and agree to go out with me.”

Behind Levi, Nick shakes his head. “Shakespeare is spinning in his grave.”

Levi kicks his friend in the shin, and Nick seems to fight off a smile. “Come on, Silva,” Levi drawls, giving me a slow wink. “Put me out of my misery.”

I’m preparing to turn him down when recruits start to pile into the gym, cranking the volume level to ear-piercing. Levi’s temporary distraction allows me to sneak a peek at Greer, but the intensity he was leveling at me before is nowhere to be found. Did I imagine it?

Yes. Of course I did.

So he called me Danika. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. He probably just figured it was time to graduate to a first-name basis. I live with his brother, for God’s sake.

The return of the lieutenant’s aloofness shouldn’t disappoint me like this. I’m nursing an infatuation with someone who isn’t available. Someone who isn’t interested in me as a friend, let alone an . . . other.

The fact that I’m even considering Greer’s interest level panics me into accepting the date. “Sure. Yeah,” I finally respond to Levi. “Let’s do it Saturday. Pizza or something.”

“Really?” He clears his throat. “I mean . . . cool. I was totally prepared for that answer.”

Jack fills my vision, followed by Charlie. They resemble two big hunting dogs who’ve just cornered a duck. “Did you just agree to a date?”

I punch my best friend in the shoulder, checking the urge to look for Greer again. “Say it a little louder. They didn’t hear you in Germany.”

He cups his hands around his mouth, obviously preparing to shout my evening plans into the stratosphere, but the whistle blows. Hard and punctuated. We’re on our feet and in line for inspection within seconds, slaves to muscle memory.

I definitely imagine Greer taking twice as long with his inspection of Levi.

Definitely.