The Do-Over (The Rooftop Crew #5) - Piper Rayne Page 0,9
it. I’m officially turned on thinking about her wearing it and me ripping it to shreds while pulling it off her body.
“It’s a long story, okay?”
“Where is she?” I ask because it’s clear this girl isn’t normally calling an overpass home. She’s the kind who works her ass off for what’s hers.
“Oh, your one true love?” she sneers.
I rear back, thinking I might hear jealousy in her tone. “Leilani.”
“Same thing, isn’t it?” She zips up her suitcase and stands with it on its wheels. “See you later, Whelan.” She walks down the street.
I follow, and Patrice inches the squad car along with us. I hold my hand to tell Patrice to lay off, but she doesn’t listen. She never fucking listens. Who needs a wife when I have my partner?
“Stop following me, otherwise I’ll call the…” The girl stops speaking.
I chuckle. “The cops?”
She whirls around, and those sweet chocolate eyes that lured me to her that night we first met are practically flaming with anger. “Don’t think I won’t go above your head. I get that you’re the type who likes to save women and all that, but I don’t need saving. I’m fine.” She turns back around and stomps off.
“And that’s why you’re outside in the middle of winter, trying to sleep in a flimsy coat? Let me take you to a shelter at least.”
She flips me off and keeps walking. I shrug at Patrice, who is actually eating another Snickers bar as we move along the dark, vacant street during the early hours of the morning when everyone else is sleeping.
“What do you want from me?” The girl flips around to face me again.
“I just want to get you somewhere safe.”
Her eyes scan my body. Not in an “I want to bang you” way, but more like she might be a second from cracking and she’s willing herself to stay strong. I’ve seen this type of behavior plenty of times. She’s not the hard-ass she pretends to be. If she was, she would’ve deserted her suitcase or worse, tried to throw a punch at me.
Her eyes steady on me and her shoulders fall like they did moments ago at the top of the overpass. “Leilani skipped out on me. The bail was everything I have. And worse, her friends got me kicked out of my apartment. I’ve tried to call her, and she won’t answer. I was staying with my boss, but he’s got four boys and a wife. After they threw flour all over me in the shower as their fifth prank that day, I left.”
“Boys can be cruel,” I say, ignoring all the shit that Leilani left in her wake.
She nods. “But I don’t need your help, okay? I’ll figure this out.”
“Okay,” I say, stepping forward, my hand on her upper arm.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m dropping you off at my place. You can spend the night there.” She tries to get free of my grip, but I only hold it harder. “I have an extra room. You can stay tonight, and when I get off work, we’ll figure something out.”
“I am not your problem. Will you stop?” She squirms, but I open the car’s back door.
Patrice shoots me a look I know is trying to communicate that I shouldn’t try to be someone else’s savior. But shit, if I didn’t get into policing to help people, why the fuck am I doing this job?
I release the girl’s arm but stand in front of her. “Listen, I’m not trying to fix your problems, but you can’t stay out here. It’s not safe, and my captain wouldn’t be too happy if I just parked the squad car here all night. I’m a cop and I was sworn to uphold the law, and I cannot leave you here like this. You won’t fare well. So just do me the favor and stay at my place. I won’t even be there.”
She takes a moment to think about it and nods without another word. I hold open the back door and she crawls in. I stuff her suitcase in next to her.
Once I’m in, Patrice puts the car in drive. “Where to?”
“My apartment.”
“You know her?” she asks me.
“This is one of Leilani’s friends. I met her once when she was a waitress.”
Her eyebrows scrunch and I know what she’s thinking. I don’t need telepathy to figure it out. She surprises me though and turns around to look in the back seat. “I’m Patrice, and you are?”