I sighed, giving in. “Of course I’ll taste your cake.”
This time Taylor rolled her eyes.
2
Damien
The flashing red and blue lights followed by the siren blaring had me pulling over my pickup truck, cursing with a slap to my steering wheel. This night was about to go to hell. I was just heading home from the bar, where I’d left Hunter, Whittaker, and the girls watching the hockey game. I had slaked my thirst for microbrews and quality time with friends not even staying for the end of the game. My mouth dried up as I wondered how this would turn out. It was no surprise to find douche-canoe drive out from his hidden spot and flip his lights on, deciding to pull me over. I should have waited at the bar for his fucking shift to change. I knew better, and yet the urge to taunt him never passed me by.
In the side mirror I read the etched words, “objects may appear closer than they are” as the asshole swaggered over to my side of the vehicle. He practically thrust his fucking dick out into traffic and I glared, hoping it wasn’t that close to me. You can’t tell me no one has ever in their life sped or parked somewhere they shouldn’t have or driven home a tad buzzed every now again, trying to get home. The latter part wasn’t a good idea, and generally I was a law-abiding citizen. I didn’t mind cops and liked most of them who did their job, but this guy… ugh… this motherfucker made it his mission to pull me over every damn time he was on duty. I’d call it harassment, but then I’d have to explain to the municipal judge, who happened to be Kristen’s mother, that our dislike stemmed from the fact I didn’t like how he treated Kristen. My past experiences with Judge Calloway were not exactly ones that had garnered positive reflection. Even if Kristen instigated it, it didn’t bode well for me.
It never did.
I should just fucking move on.
And yet…
Before Taylor returned home to flip the house from hell, I’d heard a rumor that he had proposed. Knowing that she’d turned him down had made me feel like a king that day. He wouldn’t get a piece of her. Neither would I, but it was the principal of the thing. Of course that was ruined further when then they went on some romantic fuck-fest to a winery in Sonoma. Who goes on vacation after turning down a proposal?
Sonoma.
What the hell was in Sonoma?
Pfft.
More like he was trying to see some-more-a her naked ass drinking shit that attracted fruit flies. Guy must have a fucking shrine with candles and her picture on a wall somewhere. I hated him and I hated that he had been with Kristen when I could do nothing about it.
“License and registration… cocksucker.” He shined his flashlight into my vehicle and I’d have loved nothing more than to shove it right up his ass.
“Aw, you remember my name. Nice to see you too, Officer Evan Rooney. You ever get that promotion for fucking your mom?”
“Hilarious. Your mom says hi, by the way.” Years later and we always went back to the mom jokes. “Have you been drinking tonight?” He clicked his pen with his ticket book out. Looked like I was about to be getting a handwritten love note from this guy.
“Was hockey playing?”
“Answer the question.”
“Why? You know the answer. I was with Hunter and Whittaker tonight. I think the Rangers won. Beat your pussy team 4-0 last I checked.”
“Step out of the car.” The douchebag flicked his head at me—I wasn’t even worthy of a full nod. God, this guy grated on my nerves.
“What for?” Now I was pissed because Evan was only doing this because he could.
“Sobriety test. Get out of the car. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He squared his legs and put his hands on his waist. I didn’t know if he was planning to tackle me or what. I could totally take him, but that wasn’t the point.
“I’m not drunk. Could you for one minute separate being a dick from your job?” We would never get over our dislike of each other until one of us left town—and I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Should I consider this resisting an officer?” he said, raising his eyebrows in challenge.
Rolling my eyes, I stepped out of my truck as a car honking passed us by. I was sure my parents would somehow hear about this later, and then it would be all over town that Officer Rooney had pulled me over for some bullshit, again. Like I wanted or needed Kristen to hear about it and rub salt in the wound. It would spread from the local sewing circle to the Bible study group at Pastor Rooney’s church like wildfire, for Christ’s sake. Yeah, even his dad was a religious touting uptight pain-in-the-ass. I guess the apple wasn’t falling far from the tree.
“Merely protesting your stereotypical profiling.” I said.
“Uh huh,” he muttered, taking a step forward.
“I’m sorry my lips are too chapped to kiss your ass tonight.” I badly wanted to make a joke, but I really was trying to stay out of trouble. There was something about hitting my mid-twenties and the sudden need to start adulting. I blamed it on Hunter.
“Trained observation, Hart. Come on, let’s get this shit show on the road.”