I kick my feet up on the dashboard and lean back in my seat with the binoculars in front of my eyes. After three hours of staking out Old City Records, we haven’t had a single lead pan out. One day, my source tells me they are running a big shipment through the store, the next it’s something else.

“Hand me the Cheetos, would ya?” I point at the bag of cheesy goodness on the dash in front of Clarke. “I’m starving.”

She picks up the bag, glances at the nutrition label, and sighs. “How do you eat this crap? It’s loaded with saturated fat and chemicals.”

I take it out of her hand and laugh. “It says made with real cheese on the front of the bag. That counts as a food group.”

She chuckles. “You are impossible. No wonder your brother worries about you. Coffee and Cheetos is not what I would call a good dinner.”

“Potato-potato,” I mutter, between bites of my snack. “We’re on a stakeout. Eating junk food and pounding stale coffee is part of the gig.”

“We’re not cops,” Clarke points out. “Following around dealers in hopes of getting a good lead on the Old City Records drug ring will get you killed.”

“They have no idea we are watching them. Stop worrying. For someone who wants to become an investigative journalist, you sure as hell don’t take enough risks.”

I scan the dark city block for a sign of something. Anything. But no one has walked past Old City Records in over an hour. Inside the store, the lights are dim, casting barely enough light to see the person seated at the front counter.

“Can’t you just waltz in there and make nice with the clerk?”

I shrug against the leather seat.

“Well, they are hiring. There’s a sign on the door. Go apply for a job.”

Clarke says this as if it’s the most obvious choice. I would have done that sooner if it were an option.

I snort. “I already have a job, one that pays shit. I doubt Fred will take too kindly to me working at a record store in hopes that I’ll find something big enough for him to print.”

“Show him what you’ve got, and maybe he will change his mind.”

“Doubtful.” I stuff a handful of Cheetos in my mouth, speaking between bites. “All I have are dried up leads that have done nothing but waste my time and now yours.”

“It’s not a waste of time. This is fun. Better than researching what private schools are the best in the area or some of the boring ass shit Fred has assigned to me lately. I swear he’s trying to get rid of me. Ever since I turned in my assignment on the school embezzlement case, Fred hasn’t given me anything worthwhile.”

“Your reporting on that story was perfect. It wasn’t you. He’s a dick because he wants to fuck you, and you want nothing to do with him.”

She sticks her tongue out and makes a gagging sound. “Gross. The last thing I want to think about is Fred and dicks. He makes my skin crawl with the way he stares at me during staff meetings.”

“Unfortunately, he’s our boss. It sucks. Get used to it. He likes to stare, but he’s harmless. Flirt back. It could do wonders for your career.” I say the last part with a wink, completely joking with her.

She lets out a frustrated groan. “You cannot be serious.”

“Fred has been a creeper since I started with the newspaper over two years ago. From what I hear, he has always been like that. You can’t pick your boss.”

“But you can pick your job,” Clarke counters.

“I pay no mind to him. He makes advances on occasion. I ignore all of them. It hasn’t affected my ability to work with him. By being nice, he gave me the go-ahead to work part-time on this case. Fred is like a little kid. If you give him some attention, he will simmer down and go play in the corner with his toys.”

“Ugh,” she groans. “Fine. Whatever it takes to get back to real journalism. Covering this local bullshit is boring me to death.”

“That’s why you should take our stakeout more serious. Imagine what a story like this could do for our careers.”

She bites her lip, nervous. “They have ties to the Mafia, right?”

I drop the binoculars to my lap and look over at Clarke. “Yup. Other newspapers have covered similar cases related to the ring, but no one can confirm the supplier with absolute certainty.”

“And you think they run it out of this rinky-dink record store?” She stares at the storefront again and shakes her head.

“Better than slinging crack under the El.”

“Dumb place to sell drugs, don’t you think? I thought drug dealers hung out on street corners.”

“Nope, not anymore. Dealers are more advanced now. It’s almost like a food delivery service. You make a call, and someone meets you. You can get anything you want over the phone anymore. Sex. Drugs. Sports betting. You name it, and you can find a way to get it.”

“Should I be worried that you know so much about how to order drugs and hookers?”

I laugh. “It’s part of the job. I have to know a thing or two about how their business works to bust them.”

“You should involve the cops. We can’t take down a bunch of thugs by ourselves.”

“I will. Don’t be silly. I’m not delusional.”

“You never told me about what happened with Ethan last night.” She turns her head to face me, her eyes fixed on me, awaiting my answer.

A beat passes between us before I confess. “We almost had sex.”

Her mouth opens in shock. Confusion scrolls across her face. “Almost? Why was that? Fill me in. I need the dirt. My sex life sucks ass. Let me live vicariously through you and hockey hottie.”

I cringe at her nickname for Ethan.

“There’s not much to tell. We pretty much air humped each other on the dance floor. Ethan kissed me, bit my neck, and I rubbed up on his dick. It was super hot, in case you’re wondering. Then, we went back to my apartment, where he gave me a few orgasms, before Will came home, banging on the door. We were so close. Ethan was ready to put on the condom when I heard Will’s voice. Talk about the biggest buzz kill ever.”

“At least he didn’t catch you. How did you manage that one?”

“Easy. I never gave him a key, which reminds me. I need to have one made for him. Ethan too. Can we stop at the hardware store on Delaware Ave. on our way back my place?”

“Sure. Why not? We’re wasting time here. Why not waste more?”

“Sorry, Clarke. I thought this would be more eventful than the two of us sharing Cheetos and talking about Fred and Ethan.”

“The Ethan part I can handle. Fred not so much. Go on. I want to hear the rest of the story. What happened after Will came home?”

“Nothing.” I sigh. “I told Ethan to pretend he was sleeping in the spare bedroom before Will could see him. I took my room. Will slept on the couch. He almost caught me with an open condom, though.”

She covers her mouth with her hand and giggles. “That would have been hilarious. How would you have explained your way out of that one?”

“I guess I would’ve had to get creative. I’m glad it didn’t come to that. Sneaking around behind Will’s back is eating at me. I think Ethan hates it, too. There’s something so hot about the forbidden aspect of it all. But I hate lying. I told Ethan we had one night to get it out of our systems. Just one first and last hate fuck.”

She bites her lip, her eyes growing wider with excitement. “You said that to him?”

I nod.

“How bold of you? You are full of surprises lately. And here I thought you were Jane the Virgin.”

I cough. “Not hardly. Just because I’m a selective dater doesn’t mean I’m a virgin.”

She holds up her hands and shrugs. “Hey, how am I supposed to know? You’re not exactly an open book. I have yet to see you with a man in all the time that I have worked with you.”

I contemplate her words, and sadly, I realize Clarke is right. Damn. I am getting lamer by the minute. Maybe a night with Ethan was what I needed. Too bad Will had to go and interrupt us.

“You ready to head home? This night is going nowhere fast, and I need to get some real food. The Chinese place below my apartment is open for another hour.”

Clarke scrunches her nose in disgust. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself. You don’t know what you are missing.”

Clarke puts the car in drive and pulls out of the parking space and onto the street, glancing over her shoulder for oncoming traffic. I slide my seatbelt back into place and take one last look at Old City Records.

What a mess. My dating life is a disaster. I can’t nail the bastards I have been chasing around for the past few months.

Now, I have to go home and deal with the guilt I harbor over lying to my brother. One taste of my brother’s best friend wasn’t enough. I am hungry, desperate, begging for more. I need him. All of him.