It was actually true.

I now believed the common saying about all the good-looking guys being assholes.

This guy…Officer whatever his name was had to be the biggest one I’d met in a very long time.

Seriously, this guy wasn’t just an asshole; he was a total jerk.

The man had seen everything, all that had happened to me with the car from hell, and to top it all off he thought he should give me the third degree because I could have killed someone.

Like it was my fault the fucking car was so bad. He wouldn’t listen to me, oh no. He didn’t want to hear my explanation at all. Instead he breathalyzed me, questioned me about everything under the sun, and implied that I was on drugs.

Looking at him now, I could see that was the conclusion he’d come to. The asshole thought I was on drugs, because no one would have gotten into a car like that sober. He blamed me for the whole occurrence.

It wasn’t my fault.

Okay…maybe it was…a little. I agreed that I probably shouldn’t have driven the damn car asshole number two, Wade Marshall, had rented for me, and I agreed that the vehicle looked like shit. The rental company had said it was a Honda, but the thing was what my grandma would have called a jalopy.

What I didn’t agree with was the assertion that I’d gotten into the car knowing it had faults. How the fuck could I have known that?

The car looked like hell, but how was I supposed know the thing would have all sorts of problems and eventually give up on me?

After the day I’d had, I seriously just wanted to get to where I was going.

The whole day was messed up—all of it, start to finish.

First my flight from LA was canceled and I had to wait three hours to get the next one. Then on the plane I sat next to a man who stank of shit. Said man also insisted on flirting with me for the whole journey, and his breath was worse than his body odor.

On the plane, there was hair in my food, and next was the car. I actually almost died when I saw it, and that was exactly the effect that had been desired. Wade, PA to my boss, Perry Sanderson, had gotten the car for me out of spite, all because I wouldn’t sleep with his married ass.

He’d started at the magazine eight months before and immediately started pestering me to go out with him. I didn’t normally go out with guys who were completely full of themselves, but I thought if it would get him off my back, I’d go. I went for dinner. That was it. Then I found out he was married.

Asshole.

Still, that didn’t stop him from pursuing me—much to my dismay. Taking a break from LA and coming to Wilmington was a welcome relief. It was a break from him, but he had to make his mark here too with that car.

Which led me to this moment with Officer Gorgeous, who’d given me the third degree because he thought I was on drugs.

And, to top off my day from hell, fate or the universe decided to deal me the wild card.

Officer Gorgeous just so happened to be my next-door neighbor.

God, why do you hate me?

“We’ll continue the investigation to determine if what you’re saying is true,” he cautioned, nostrils still flared even though it had been two hours since the incident occurred.

“Investigate then. I don’t care.” That was the way to deal with him.

I shuffled on the bench and straightened up to stare him down, even though my back hurt.

He’d had me sitting there on that rickety bench the whole time while he stood over me. The stupid car was a few feet away. There was police tape on it and a few more officers had joined us, along with one of those massive trucks that looked like a tow truck except it had a massive lever that had reached into the sea to pull the vehicle out.

Officer Gorgeous shifted his weight from one solid, athletic-looking leg to the other and glowered at me with light green eyes that reminded me of the beautiful Aegean sea.

I had amazing memories of frolicking on the beach in Santorini. Some parts of the sea were pure blue, but it was the mingle of green that made it striking. That was what his eyes looked like. Those eyes surrounded by thick long lashes—wasted on a man—glared at me.

His frown deepened as I continued to stare. I may have looked like I was giving him attitude, but really I couldn’t help but check him out.

I had to admit when I first saw him, he actually stole my breath away.

Stupid me thought he had come to my rescue.

His face was all angles and planes, chiseled to perfection like the statues of the Greek gods I loved admiring at the museum back in LA.

Achilles—that was what I thought he looked like, a modern-day version with a faux hawk and a suit instead of armor. He was so tall, and packed with muscle.

And an asshole.

“Can I go now?” I snapped.

He looked thrown by my attitude. “Miss Pierce, you do realize you could have killed someone, right? Kids play on this street. There are elderly people who wouldn’t have been able to get out of the way of your car.”

“You said that before,” I pointed out, folding my arms under my breasts. His eyes dropped to my cleavage but just as quickly came back up to meet mine.

“What you did was serious.”

“And I’m sorry. If I’d known the damn vehicle was dangerous, I wouldn’t have driven it.” I couldn’t see why he didn’t understand that.

“Watch your tone with me, Miss Lady. You’re lucky I haven’t taken you in just from my suspicions alone.”

Oh I had to stand up now. “Miss Lady? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” My hands flew to my hips and I squared off with him, meeting his oafish stance.

It was me with my five feet and four inches against him, who had to be at least six foot six, maybe seven. Jayce, my older brother, was six foot six, and this guy was about an inch taller.

“Clearly I’m talking to you. You could have killed someone, and you don’t seem to care.”

God, he truly was an asshole. Officer Gorgeous, no it was more like Officer Asshole.

“Look, if you aren’t arresting me, I’m going.”

“I never said I was finished.”

“Well you can go fuc—”

“Brooke,” Noah called out my name.

I turned away from Officer Asshole to see the very best thing I could have laid eyes on right then.

Noah. Thank God. I didn’t think I could have been happier to see my best friend running toward me.

I moved away from the officer and rushed straight into Noah’s awaiting arms. He felt like coming home. Not only had I not seen him in two months—which was very long for us—but him being here was a most welcome sight.

I had called him before Officer Asshole started in on me.

“Are you okay?” he asked when we pulled apart.

“No.” I exhaled slowly, really showing how exhausted I felt from the stress of the damn day.

My sudden step into how drained I was brought down the strong presence I’d previously exhibited.

Noah brushed his hand over my cheek, and the simple notion soothed me. He then turned to Officer Asshole.

“Are you the officer in charge here?” Noah asked him. That was a much better way than I’d described the guy when I called. Of the two of us, Noah was definitely the calmer one, although he’d been a raging bull of a linebacker for the LA Centaurs when he used to play.

Officer Asshole looked him over. “Yeah, we’re in the middle of questioning.”

I saw the recognition in his eyes when he looked at Noah. Anyone with an ounce of love for football would recognize my Noah immediately. While he now worked as a scout for the North Carolina Razorbacks, people knew him for his fame with the Centaurs. He’d only retired two years before after an injury, and he’d also done a number of ads for Calvin Klein. The previous year, if Noah wasn’t on a billboard somewhere, he was in magazines or on TV. The man was famous, so Officer Asshole would have definitely recognized him.

“You charging her with something?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Noah’s voice took on a stern edge, one the officer did not like.

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay then, when you figure out what that thing is, let us know. I’ve arranged for the rental company—which we will be suing—to fax over the details on the car to your precinct, and I’ve spoken to your captain and asked that he views CCTV for the area. We’re going now.” Noah looked him up and down.

I couldn’t help the feeling of triumph that surged through me.

Officer Asshole’s eyes widened and he looked like he was going to hit Noah.

It would have been some fight if he had, because I had to say the two were comparable in body, which made me think Officer Asshole definitely worked out hard, athlete style.

Noah took my hand, and without any further comment, we walked away.