Raging Heart On_ Friends to Lovers Romance(20)

"Can you?"

"Are you fucking insane?"

"You can tell them that she's wanted in connection for a crime and not to be approached. Have them call if they see her."

"That's a great idea, really."

"I thought so."

"Yeah. It really is. I'll get right on it. I just have one question."

"What's that?"

"Are you going to pay my fucking bills when I get fired for wasting the department’s resources for personal uses?"

"Come on, man. I wouldn't ask. But this is an emergency. I've got to get to her before something happens to her."

"Kayla's always been levelheaded. I don't see her taking unnecessary risks."

"Unprotected sex with someone she doesn't know is a risk, period. And what if some sick fuck hurts her, man? You gotta help me here."

"Jesus. Is she that determined to have a kid? I mean, she's only… what? Twenty something? Surely she knows there's time for her to—"

"She's nearing thirty and she's obsessed with it. You have to help me here. Help me find her so I can just talk her down."

"Fuck, if she's that determined, why don't you just volunteer?"

"Now you sound like Mom."

"Well, normally I'd set your head on fire for a remark like that. Still, I'm serious. Kayla's a beautiful woman and you two have always been extremely close. You can't tell me—"

"Kayla's like my sister," I lie. I might have used that excuse before with Mom, but fuck, what I've been doing at night these past few days definitely has nothing to do with being a brother.

"Damn, that sucks. I always thought the two of you could have something special. I got an idea. Give me a minute to see if it will work," Black says, and I breathe a little easier—at least, if I ignore the knot in my stomach.

I always thought you two could have had something special.

Shit. Has everyone thought of the two of us together? Why haven’t I? Well, until recently, I mean. The idea of Kayla and me in a relationship is laughable… right?

I mean, we’re too different. Except in all the ways that really count.

I don’t want kids. She definitely does.

Except having a child with Kayla wouldn’t be horrible. She’s not like other women. She wouldn’t use a child as a weapon. I wouldn’t have to worry about the child when I couldn’t be there. Not with Kayla. She’d be an amazing mother.

An image of Kayla’s stomach rounded with a child and her dark brown eyes laughing at me comes to mind and the strangest fucking thing happens. My dick jerks and slowly, as if I was watching the best fucking porno in my life, stretches to life in my jeans and doesn’t stop until he’s so fucking hard that it literally aches.

So much for claiming we’re not sexually attracted one another. Clearly that’s not an issue. At least not for me. Thankfully, Black comes back on the phone and saves me from my own thoughts.

“She’s at 1846 Carolina Avenue, downtown.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I had a buddy ping her phone. There’s a bar there called Dempsey’s. I’d say she’s there, brother.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“More like a hundred. Go get your woman.”

“She’s not mine,” I deny, but Black’s already hung up. His words are still echoing in my head when I start my truck and head downtown.

To get Kayla… who is not my woman. But who I definitely want to fuck. There’s no denying that with my dick practically ripping through my jeans at the moment.





CHAPTER 13


KAYLA





My phone vibrates a couple of times after I hang up on White, but I ignore it and the guilt that tries to grab ahold of me. I don’t owe him or anyone an explanation. He ruined my perfect plan. Okay, it was perfect until he brought up the whole disease thing. Call me a freak, but I didn’t really think about that. I know it sounds crazy, and judge me if you want to, but it’s not like I have sex all the time with men I don’t know. Let’s be more honest: it’s not like I have sex that often. Period. The furthest thing from my mind was getting diseases. Now I can’t help but obsess about it.

I’ve been sitting here in this bar for two hours, nursing my second beer, and no matter who I look at, the end result is always the same: Does he have Crabs? Syphilis? Gonorrhea? Chlamydia or worse? To be honest I don’t even know what half of those are. I’ve just heard of them and know that I don’t want to ever experience them.

White did this. He ruined my plan. The bastard.

I came here tonight thinking if I pick out a man who looks clean, wears expensive clothes, and is well-spoken then I could chance it. I’ve met two of those and, yeah, I’m not willing to chance it.