Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) (26 page)

I drop the weights on the last rep. My feet pace back and forth, as I catch my breath.

Maybe just one more set and thirty minutes on the treadmill and I’ll head out. The tiny gym in my building is empty, like usual. The music from my phone blares out of the speakers on each end of the tiny gym. The beat combined with the sound of my intense breathing and aching muscles is the best feeling in the world. The harder the workout, the better. Every day I try to surpass the day before. I take pride in my strength and control. My arms are slowly getting bigger. My sleeves are getting snugger. I’m getting stronger – it’s the only thing I seem to be good at; the one thing I can focus on to keep me from thinking. No. No thinking.

The song pauses to chime with an incoming message before returning to the beat. That’s the third one in an hour. Ford is getting pretty antsy. I told him I’d be there after the gym. My first Friday off in months and I refuse to stay home. Thankfully, Bedford’s throwing one of his huge bashes—Little sisters not invited. I think he learned his lesson. He promised me a ‘boat load of babes for rebound central.’

It’s not as if I don’t like a good rebound; I just can’t seem to get my mind right.

Maybe just one more set.

An hour later, I find myself heading to Ford’s place, deep in the outskirts of Angelica’s rolling hills. The base of the music is thumping from the stop sign at the edge of the street. People are meandering up and down the street, to and from their cars. I park in the driveway behind a Jeep Cherokee that might be Courtney’s car. Bedford’s black Mercedes is in front of her. She won’t mind; she’s probably not going anywhere. I’ve never actually seen it, but I think those two have some kind of history. She comes to every party, visited him in college, slept at our frat house, – she is just an awesome, laid-back chick. She reminds me a lot of someone else. Someone I’m supposed to be forgetting.

I stroll up the steps and through the open front door. Groups of people are scattered all about. I wind my way to the kitchen, where a huge keg sits atop the counter. Several girls flock around it, sipping from their cups. I make my way over.

“Can I get those cups over there?” I ask one of the girls. The one with the white tee shirt and black bra screams easy. The cups are well within reaching distance, but I figure I’d strike up a conversation. The more I talk, the less I think.

“Oh.” She looks flustered. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks.” I shoot her a smile before turning toward the keg.

After pouring myself some beer, I happen to notice two girls beside me. They giggle to each other when I look up.

“Oh, sorry, are you waiting for this?” I point to the keg.

More giggles.

“No, it’s okay. Take your time.” The blonde giggles again, smiling way too wide to be normal.

“It’s all yours.” I slip around them. I’m not interested in anyone who giggles that much.

I make my way out onto the deck. There he is in all his drunken glory. Bedford staggers to his feet when he sees me closing the French doors. I couldn't help but notice Courtney was in his lap.

“Smithy! You made it.” He comes over and pats me on the back. “Lotta hotties here tonight, huh? I had Courtney bring some girls from New Paltz.”

“Yeah, there are a lot of girls,” I admit as I glance around. The girl to guy ratio is in our favor.

“Take your pick. Let’s get old Smithy back in business.” Then he turns to Courtney and whispers, “And away from my sister.”

“Oh hush, Beddy.” Courtney directs him to a chair. She comes back to stand beside me.

“I take it Ford told you?”

She nods. “I mean, it was a little apparent after the last party.”

“Nothing happened… then.”

“I believe you, but you have to look at it from
his
perspective.”

“I know. I’m a shit friend.”

She pauses before answering, “You’re only a shit friend if you don’t have feelings for her.”

I don’t respond. We stand there for a few minutes just watching the rowdy game of flip cup happening before us until she continues. “But, from what I saw, I don’t think that’s the case.”

I take a gulp of beer. “Relationships just aren’t for
me,
Court.”

“I know. I’ve seen how you act with other girls, but in the two minutes I saw you with her, I noticed – Becca was different.
You
were different.”

Another gulp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe that’s the problem, Smith. When you are sure, then you make this right again.”

“Uh, yeah sure.” I leave her staring after me and head back inside. Where are those stupid blondes?

I’ve been making my way around this party for what feels like hours. No one strikes my fancy. None of the girls hold a candle to anything I’m attracted to—Definitely none that can carry on a conversation. I’m so over this party. I toss my plastic cup into the sink and head for the door. Courtney has been giving me weird looks since our talk. Maybe she’s trying to keep an eye on me – I have no idea. The moment she mentioned her it was like being branded. The sting from hearing Becca’s name still aches and I don’t know if it will go away for a while. I stumble out of the house and down the front steps. I’m crossing the front yard when I hear a sweet voice.

“You leaving so soon?”

I spin around. Leaning against the edge of the steps, a brunette comes out of the shadows. She’s wearing tight jeans and a short shirt that shows off half her stomach. “Yeah, I’m kind of over this party.”

“Me too. Want to get out of here?”

I don’t know why I’m shocked at her forwardness. But I’m not in a position to turn it down. Actually, maybe this is just what I need. “Sure. I was just headed home.”

“Sounds good to me.” She walks past, and the smell of her strong perfume breezes by as she makes her way to my car.

It takes me a few seconds before following this strange girl. The car ride would have been silent if not for her. She keeps trying to drum up conversation.

“So how did you hear about the party?”

“Bedford’s a good friend of mine.”

“Oh, okay. I was in Courtney’s sorority. We pledged the same year so we are pretty close.”

I bet you are
. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, so you live around here?”

“A little way off the beaten path.” That you are going to have to find your way home from tomorrow.

“Cool. This is my first time here. It’s a pretty cute town.”

“Not for people who live here.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

Finally, we make it to my apartment complex and I pull into a front row space.

“Here we are.”

“Oh, nice.” She sounds surprised. I don’t know whether to be offended or not.

I exit the car first, desperate for some fresh air. Her perfume is suffocating me. It’s too strong, and too – wrong.

“What’s your name?” She climbs out of the car and asks me.

“Does it matter?” I mumble, walking toward the front door.

“I just want to know whose name I should scream.” She winks at me.

“Call me Smith. Everyone else does.” We enter the foyer and begin to climb the steps together.

“I don’t want to call you what everyone else does.” Her lip quirks up into a slick smile.

“Well, that’s all you’re getting,” I mutter, increasing my pace. There is no way she’s going to call me by my first name. She doesn’t deserve to. We finally make it to the third floor and head down the hall.

She’s still trying to rope me into conversation that I’m adamantly trying to avoid. The less I know about this girl, the better—Back to old Smithy.

I stop before apartment 3F and bend slightly to open the door when she grabs my face. She kisses me, forcibly taking my mouth. Somehow, I manage to get the door open without looking and we stumble inside. She’s a good kisser; it’s just she’s so vigorous. I continue to return the kiss. Her fingers tear my shirt over my head. Then she rakes her fingers through my hair before sliding her hands down my chest. She pulls me closer by my belt loops until I realize my hands have yet to explore her. They are just lying numb at my sides.

My eyes open. We are kissing still. But that’s just it – I’m just kissing. There is nothing more. I feel nothing. There is nothing here at all – it is only a kiss.

She’s tugging on my bottom lip now, making some kind of weird growl noise. All I can do is look up at the ceiling. I’m not even aroused. What am I doing? Things are kind of a blur, but I’m sane enough to realize when things aren’t right.

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I push her off me. Her lips smack together loudly when she finally releases me. She shoots me a pouty look. Little does she know it will have no effect on me. There is only one look I’ve ever craved, and it will never be from her.

“Listen, I’m kind of drunk. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Leave that to me, baby.” She falls to her knees. Her fingers wiggle their way into the button of my pants.

“No.” I somehow squirm away from her. “I think you should go.”

“What?” She looks confused. I can’t blame her, I am too.

“I think you should go.” My finger extends toward the door.

She climbs to her feet. “Are you serious?”

I’ve seen that face a million times before. “Yes, I can’t do this.”

“Well, you could have told me that before you drove me all the way to the middle of nowhere.” Her hands slap at her sides.

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Well, thanks for nothing.” She storms out, slamming the door behind her.

I glance around at the shadows in my dark apartment. I fucking hate Rebecca Swanson. Who the hell is she to come falling into my life unannounced and turn everything upside down. Who is she to make me feel like this? —So out of control and… confused. And above all – I hate her because she was right. I’ve never had anything real before; anything with true passion and love. Now I’m so fucking scared that nothing will ever compare to what I had with her. And doesn’t that just suck. Isn’t that my karma for being the biggest playboy asshole ever – the one girl I fall for, I can’t have.

The pillow over my face is suffocating, but pulling it away lets the blinding light in. I didn’t get any sleep last night. Thank God I’m off today. Seems like every dream I had was haunted by blue eyes. Blue eyes that told me I would never be able to go back to mediocre once I’ve had the real thing. Bright blue eyes that used to stare over at me in this very bed, now absent from my life entirely.

My bed is cold as ice, just like my heart. It’s been vacant of many things for a while now. The cold is starting to seep into my soul, clouding my vision. I deserve this. Every text I ignored from her was like a jab in my heart. I deserved every single one of them. I am an asshole, notorious for breaking girls’ hearts. She can talk about me along with all the rest of them. I will be single for the rest of my life, the eternal bachelor. The infamous Officer Smith, bedding them and never wedding them. I’m finally getting back to the old me.

So, why the hell do I feel worse than ever before?

That Monday, I’m rushing to class—overslept once again. I can’t seem to find the energy to get out of bed. That, and I’m still recovering from a binge wine session Meggie and I had last night. In my oversize sweatshirt and pajama pants, I race across the football field. Students do it all the time; I’ve seen it. I just never thought I would be one of them. The morning is cold, colder than it’s been, beginning the change of season. Summer is officially over. So are all the memories John and I have shared.