Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) (4 page)

I awake to a pounding headache. I mean, there must be a dwarf drilling in my head right now, because I can’t even find the energy to lift it. My arm flies to the back of my skull and I groan embarrassingly loud. That’s when I hear it… a cough. My eyes whip open to scan a bedroom only… it’s not my own.

“Oh no…” I mutter, glancing around at the light walls before I notice the corner of the room. Sitting in a desk chair next to a laundry basket full of clean clothes is the hot bouncer from the bar. “Oh. My. God.” My hands cover my face to absorb some of the heat radiating off me right now. “Oh my God… what the hell happened last night?”

I hear a chair drag across the floor. “It’s not what you think.”

“And what is it that I’m thinking, exactly?” I lower my hand long enough to look him in the eye. Big mistake. They are gorgeous turquoise and endless like the ocean. I think I’m going to throw up in front of Mr. Gorgeous-Eyes.

“That we hooked up.”

“So, we didn’t?” I attempt to sit up, propping my head against his headboard that has probably gotten broken in on more than one occasion because it creaks against my weight. I don’t know why, but I’m a little disappointed.

“No.” He chuckles at my expression. Oh Lord, I must have make-up all over my face right now. If we didn’t hook up, maybe something worse happened…

“Why? Did I get sick?”

“Well, yes. But that’s not why we didn’t.”

“Oh, God, did I do it in front of you?”

His eyes soften as he reaches for a cup of something on the nightstand beside the bed. “Here I made this for you. It’ll make you feel better.”

“What is it?” I ask nervously, taking the cup between my hands.

“It’s my own secret hangover smoothie.”

I make a face at him, but I bring the smoothie to my lips and sip it a bit. It has a strong taste of bananas and something else I can’t quite place. When I lower it, I take a deep breath before beginning again.

“I’m sorry.” I run my hands down my face. “I don’t remember anything. Can you fill me in? Did you take me back here to hook up and I passed out… what went on last night?” I’m trying to piece it all back together, but it’s almost like I don’t have all the pieces to connect. I remember waiting for hours for Meggie to get ready in the dorm, and I remember getting my ID checked on the patio… but after that, it’s all a blur. I get flashes of red lights and loud music. I think I gave someone a high five, but I don’t remember a complete thought while inside the club.

“Rebecca, I see a lot of things working as a bouncer.” He twists in his chair slightly. “And I’ve seen
you
in the club before. Do you honestly believe that even subconsciously, you would go home with a guy for sex?”

“Uh, no,” I mutter, but inside my heart is doing belly flops into the ocean of those gorgeous eyes because this hot guy has noticed me. Not just spotted me, but has noticed that I am not of the hoochie variety. Which means: he must have been watching me.

“I didn’t think so. That’s why when I saw those guys carrying you out like a sack of potatoes, I had to say something.”

My eyes go wide, and my mouth drops open. “What?” He waits a few moments, allowing me to process this. “Wait… what? So, you’re telling me some guys drugged me?”

“That’s what I think, yes.”

“Oh my God!” I rub my temples, bringing my knees up. “I don’t remember anything.”

“Rebecca—”

I interrupt him, raising my hand to him. “Please, call me Becca. Only my mother calls me Rebecca, and even then it’s usually when I’m disappointing her.”

He smirks. “Okay,
Becca
… I called the cops, but the guys were gone by the time they got there. I was able to take you to the hospital, where they took blood to see exactly what you were given.”

“And?”

“We will have to wait for the results, but you did throw up
a lot
while you were there—So I think it’s safe to say it’s out of your system.”

“Oh, Lord, this just keeps getting better and better.”

Silence grows between us. I feel like he wants to say more, but doesn’t. Instead, I allow the silence to envelop me. I quietly process all this information with the banana smoothie at my lips, my mind trying to remember, the lights still swimming behind my eyelids.

That’s when it occurs to me: this bouncer went above and beyond his job title. I mean; he took me back to his place, for goodness sake. What the hell does
he
get out of this?

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but why did you do all this?” He looks up, his face struck with shock. “That sounded harsh. I’m grateful, but you didn’t have to take me to the hospital and then back
here
… you could’ve left me there… you could’ve… I don’t know.” I slump back onto the creaky headboard.

He squirms uncomfortably in his chair. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Are you—?”

“I’m a cop, and seeing crap like that just makes me mad.” He jumps to his feet, pacing back and forth, and only then, do I notice the freshly pressed uniform hanging on the backside of his door. “I mean, how could they just slip a girl something, throw her over their shoulder, and take her away to do God knows what?” He stops his pacing, turns, and punches the wall—Hard. I gasp, but he doesn’t flinch. It doesn’t even look like it hurt. “I just wish I would have caught them.” He slams his fist into his other hand. “But I didn’t want to just leave you there.” His eyes flick over to me. “Your eyes were closed, body limp. I didn’t know what they gave you, so I just threw you in my car and drove to the hospital.”

My eyes drop to my lap. “Thank you.” My words seem pathetic compared to all that he has done. He saved me. “Will you ever catch them?”

“I’m damn well going to try.” His fists clench again, now at his sides.

“Wow, thank you for everything… What was your name again?”

“John.” His turquoise eyes flick to mine before he flashes me a smile. It’s not a big one, more of a smirk, but showing a few teeth.

I nod. “And how do you know my name?”

“I had to use your ID at the hospital.”

“Oh.” My eyes glance over at a silver badge on the dresser beside me. SMITH is clearly engraved into it. “So… your name… is John, John Smith?”

“Yeah,” he grumbles.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“What—No!”

“I mean it’s one thing to take a drunk girl home from a bar and claim you didn’t have sex, but to give her the wrong name—That’s just morally fucked up!”

“I’m not—” Before he utters another word, he whips out his wallet from his back pocket, flipping it over to show me his driver’s license. Well, I’ll be damned—John Smith. I also happen to notice the birth year; same as my brother and four years before mine.

“Sorry,” I mutter, super low. “I guess I just don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“It’s fine.” His voice is harsher, like he closed a door to something that was open a minute ago. I didn’t realize my opportunity when I had it. He’s back to using his hard bouncer tone.

There’s this awkwardness between us now. “Um… I guess I should get going, then.”

“You can relax. I have to get ready for my shift. The school is on the way; I’ll drop you off on my way into the station.”

“How do you—Right, my ID.”

“Actually, I found your school ID in there too. Are you on campus?”

I nod. “Did you call my parents?” The realization finally hits me.

He takes a minute, his eyes exploring mine before he responds. “No.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He turns and heads into the bathroom, but not before stealing one last glance at me. The bathroom door clicks shut before I place the smoothie on the nightstand. I take the liberty to slip out of the bed and look around. My head aches at first, but after a few steps forward, it calms to an annoying pulse. The room is a blue so light; it can be mistaken for white.

There is nothing on the walls but a corkboard with newspaper clippings pinned to it. My feet take me to it. Several clippings refer to various local events. ‘Mysterious Disappearances Continue,’ ‘Fifty People Confirmed Missing,’ and another, ‘Local Coffeehouse Closes Without Warning.’

Below it, sits a desk with papers scattered over it. That’s the only thing out of place because the rest of the room is neat. Even his clothes are neatly pressed, not even a shirt hanging out of a drawer. His closet is slightly open and everything is on hangers facing the same way and sorted by color. The nightstand drawer slides open with barely a creak, but I have to cover my mouth when I see what’s inside—A huge, industrial size box of condoms, some lube, and a pair of handcuffs.
Oh my
. I start to giggle.

“What is so funny?” John is standing there in a towel with water glistening off his shoulder blades, where he forgot to towel off. His dark hair is slicked back and his turquoise eyes finally notice the open drawer. “Going through my things already?” It only takes him a few steps before he closes the drawer in front of me. His hair drips some water onto my lap.

“Sorry. I just—” He continues to glare at me, expecting an explanation. “I’m sorry, I can’t get over the—That’s a lot of condoms.” I burst out laughing.

His face softens into a smirk. “Safety first.”

“Indeed.” I bite my bottom lip.

“You’re in college; don’t act like you’re above it all.” He spins to pull his uniform off the back of his door. I can’t help but admire him as he slides his arms in the sleeves and buttons up his shirt. To distract myself I climb back onto the bed and lean back on his headboard, trying to steady my unstable stomach.

“Well, man-whore, with that attitude I don’t think you would believe me if I told you I don’t believe in casual sex.” My eyes are on the ceiling when his towel drops and he’s putting on his pants. It takes everything in me to keep my gaze upwards.
Lord, it’s been so long.

“There’s nothing to believe in. Sex is sex. Humans have needs—Men and
women
. If you don’t believe in it, that’s just the nice way of saying you haven’t found someone to screw you right.”

Oh, no he didn’t
. Actually, I haven’t found anyone to screw me, period. I haven’t put myself out there – at all. “I’d prefer not to be screwed, thank you very much. I want something with a connection.”

“What’s a better connection than passion?”

“Passion? Oh, is that what you get at the end of the night at the bar?”

There’s that smirk again. “Drunk passion is the best.”

“Really? When I’m drunk, all I can think about is food, not fucking.”
Oh, Lord; did I really just say that?

He laughs as he straps on his gun belt. “Like I said, it’s because you’re not doing it right.” He approaches the bed, grabbing his badge off the nightstand, and clipping it to the belt.

I sit up, ignoring the pounding in my head and square off to him. “I can do it just fine, thank you very much.” He offends me. My abstinence is a choice, not because there’s anything wrong with it. “You wouldn’t understand something like monogamy or what sex is like with a connection. You just can’t go back to mediocre one night stands once you experience the real thing.”

He pauses, his eyes hard, looking into mine. I touched another button. “You’re right. I don’t know what that’s like.”

Just like that, he walks past me and out of his room, leaving me staring after him, harboring some pity for the man that saved me.

I give him a few minutes before I follow him into his living room. It has an open feel to it. The bedroom opens into the living room, and there’s an alcove I can see his kitchen through, but looks like he never uses it. The counter space is clear of any clutter. Some appliances, like the stove, still have stickers on them. To my left is a huge bay window overlooking a woodsy scene while the sun shines high in the sky. Lush green as far as the eye can see, I don’t get much of a sight like this from my dorm room. Even back in Jersey, where I’m from, it’s all towns and houses around us. This is actually somewhat peaceful.

“You ready? It’ll take us a little bit to get back to Angelica.”

“Wow, where are we?” My eyes gravitate to the window. There isn’t a house in sight.

“Just outside the city. I don’t like to live where I work—Conflict of interest.”

“I think it’s to avoid the hoes from the bar too.”

“That too,” he mutters, opening the apartment door.

“Such a shame,” I murmur under my breath as I turn away from the window and walk through the door he holds open for me.