“Then you better make you one before Monday,” Day laughed behind his fist.
Syn flinched. “It’s only for a week, guys.
“Well, this bites,” Ruxs added.
“Hey! When you have to face the director of special investigations and answer his redundant, insulting-ass questions that leave you with very little dignity by the time he lets you go—then we’ll discuss what really bites, Ruxs.” Day said. “You all don’t think about what bites for us when you all fuck up.”
“We can’t go out in public in uniforms. We have to protect our cover,” Ruxs stupidly tried to argue.
Day rolled his eyes. “I hardly think a bunch of third-graders are gonna blow the whistle on you guys. Now, shut up.”
“Week after that, you’ll be in training simulations with my unit over at the academy, and then we’ll go from there.” Having come and laid down the law, Hart left with his officers.
Free was hard as a diamond in his jeans. He watched Hart’s broad back until he disappeared around the corner. He bit his bottom lip, thinking of the nasty things he wanted to do to that back tonight, when he noticed his entire department staring at him. He hurried and swiveled his chair around to his desk and buried his head in a gadget, trying to hide his arousal under the table.
Damn, he had it bad.
Hart
“You don’t think you’re moving a bit fast, Ivan? I told you yes, be assertive in asking for what you wanted but damn…I didn’t think you’d move him in.” God shook his head, then lined up his shot. “Six ball, corner pocket.”
“He’s not moved in. He still has his own place,” Hart countered for the second time. He was sick of convincing his friend that he and Free were not living together. I don’t think. Even though he hoped he was waiting for him in his bed when he got there, and not in his RV.
“Where’d he sleep last night?” God stood taller, bracing the cue on the floor in front of him. “And the night before that?”
In my arms. Instead of saying that, Hart took a long gulp of his beer.
“Mmmhmm. Like I thought,” God mumbled.
“It’s all good, man. We’re getting to know each other.”
God shrugged, “Yeah. Freeman’s cool. I can see why you like him. But, don’t rush it.”
“He is nice and laid back.” Hart laughed humorlessly. “I thought he’d be a guy who’d be hung up on looks and status because he’s so sexy, but he’s not. He’s just regular.”
“And a certified genius.”
“Yeah, that too.”
“Isn’t it a little scary dating a guy that could basically wipe you from existence and never have to get up from his desk?” God laughed.
“Fuck you. That’s not funny.” Hart shoved him on his way around the table. “Hell, Cash at this point, I just want someone who’s gonna be kind to me. You get what I’m saying. He’s not like Reese. He doesn’t just wanna fuss and argue all the damn time. I’ve had enough of that to last me the rest of my life.”
“That’s ’cuz there’s only one wicked witch from the southwest. No one could be like that.” God sank his next shot as well, then finished with the nine in the side pocket. He came and sat beside him, ordering another round.
Hart’s head wasn’t really in the game. It was at his house where the man he loved was waiting up for him. Damn, that was a foreign feeling. Great…but so very different. It was after ten o’clock. His belly was full of wings, riblets, and really good beer, and now he was ready to go home and unwind. But, he was trying to be there for his friend, since God was currently avoiding his hostile home situation.
When Hart had walked through the precinct doors he’d caught the tail end of Day arguing with God in the parking lot, right before he jumped on his bike and burned rubber out of the lot. His friend had stood there looking so miserable in the dark that he had to ask him out for drink to talk about it.
They’d been at Pubs since they’d left the office. He’d let God get it all off his chest, and had even given him some pretty good advice—if he said so himself—since he was in the relationship-way now, he felt qualified. His guidance was to go home and apologize and beg to be let back into his bed.
“God, I’m gonna call it, man.” Hart stood, pulling out a few bills for his tab.
“Oh, come on. It’s early,” God growled. “Don’t tell me he’s got you dick-whipped and on a curfew already.”
“I’m gonna let that slide since you’ve had a few, but don’t push it.” Hart motioned for one of the ladies who owned the bar to send for an Uber. They were such regulars that she just added it to the tab they settled weekly. “Now, you gotta go home and face the music. Come on. I’ll wait outside with you for the cab. You need some air.”