“We’re on it.” With my gear in tow, I head to the passenger side of the ambulance, Hunter to the driver side.
“No sirens needed for this call,” Hunter says. “It’s only a mile away.”
Granger calls out as I get into the vehicle, “Don’t you guys want to know what kind of bug it is?”
Not really. “Sure.”
Granger and Shaw join us in the garage. The boss man’s face turns graver than I’ve ever seen him. Shaw looks at Granger, almost as if he’s saying take it away.
Granger clears his throat. “It’s a . . . cockroach.”
They both spill into laughter, doubled over, hands on their bellies, faces contorted. Hunter joins in too.
I couldn’t be happier to be the butt of a first-week prank. I get out of the van, laughing too. “You fuckers.”
Shaw points at me. “You passed, man. You passed the initiation.”
As I head home that night on my bike, I ride past the spot where Officer Sexy As Sin stopped me. I’ve ridden this road every damn day since I’ve been in town, actually, wishing for her siren.
But one of these days, I’m going to bump into her again, and I’m going to get her number and then some.
Because that insta-lust is strong, and I don’t think even a demon baby could scare it the fuck out of me.
4
Perri
“Let me get this straight—you’re saying for a full half hour they were just kissing?”
The question comes from Arden as we gather at the bowling alley on Friday evening. Vanessa’s joined us for a quick game while one of her employees mans the check-in.
I grab my neon-pink ball from the return. “Like they were in seventh grade, making out after sixth-period science class behind the shed on the dirt path behind the school.”
Vanessa raises one skeptical brow. “That’s very specific. Oh, wait. That’s where you kissed David Bruno for the first time.”
“How could you forget? She called us over to her house and made us listen to the story ten times,” Arden chimes in.
I bask in the memory of when I first experienced the glory of French kissing. David and I had been dating for two weeks, which translated into going to Starbucks after school for Frappuccinos. One fine Wednesday after a particularly yummy mocha, we stole behind the shed and he planted his lips on mine, and we didn’t stop for the longest time. “And it was the most epic first kiss ever.”
Vanessa sticks out her tongue. “Only you would have an epic first kiss. You do realize most first kisses suck?”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I do, but mine didn’t. And I’ve been a devotee of epic first kisses ever since.”
Arden raises a hand like she’s in church. “Preach, sister. No other kind allowed.”
I take the ball, start at the end of the lane, and let it fly, knocking down five pins. When I turn around, I resume the report. “So today, it was a full-on make-out sesh on the bench in the town square. Which made me think . . . when was the last time you did that? The kind of endless kissing and groping that is only that—endless kissing and groping?”
Arden lowers her blonde head, a guilty-as-charged look strolling across her face. “Last night.”
I roll my eyes as I wait for the ball. “You don’t count. I know you do that all the time with Gabe.” She is ridiculously happy and in love with Gabe Harrison, a local fireman.
“We like making out. What’s the big deal?”
“But it always leads to sex, doesn’t it?” I grab the ball and send it down the lane again, knocking over two more pins, since my bowling game is incredibly, ridiculously average.
Arden scoffs as she grabs a bright-green ball from the return. “Isn’t that sort of the point? We don’t have to make out behind sheds anymore, or stop above the waist. We can go . . . wait for it . . . all the way.”
Vanessa sighs happily. “Sex is seriously one of the best parts of being an adult.” She heads to the ball return. “Or so I’m told. It’s been ages since I’ve done it. The penis still goes into the vagina, right?”
Arden nods, her face serious. “Yes. I can draw you a diagram if it would help. It’s basically insert-this-tab-into-this-slot, and you’re good to go.”
Vanessa taps her temple. “Good to know it all still works the same way it did circa 2017, should the opportunity arise again. But for now, I’ll live vicariously through your Kissing Bandits.”
“Me too,”