Say It Ain't So (SWAT Generation 2.0 9)

Wow.

There was also a computer beside the camera equipment that had a Word document up. There were half-finished thoughts on the screen, all of them looking to be hastily typed down ideas. One of which being ‘fever and lover.’

I didn’t have any idea what that could be about, but since I was being a snoop, I couldn’t very well ask without admitting that I’d read some of her work.

Sadly, after a few more looks around her house, I couldn’t find her at all.

Going back into her office, I wrote down my name, phone number, and a ‘thank you for watching over me’ before posting the sticky note to her computer monitor and walking out of her door.

Hopefully she would call.

Because of what I could remember last night, I really would like to get to know her.

Sadly, the tree falling through my roof thing really did happen the night before.

Opening my front door, I found my place full of men.

Saint was the first one to spot me.

“Hey, man. Feeling better?” he asked as he took me in.

I shrugged.

Though I felt better, I still felt like shit compared to what I normally felt like.

“Getting there.” I looked around. “Umm, when did this happen?”

‘This’ being a tarp over my roof, plyboard over the hole in my wall, and a fan blow drying my carpet dry.

“That would be the duplex complex’s manager. Her name is Hastings.” There was a long pause as Saint said, “But you already know Hastings, don’t you? She said that you slept over there.”

They all thought that we ‘knew’ each other. But we didn’t ‘know’ each other. At least not in that way.

“Where is she?” I asked curiously, not saying anything to his comment.

“Oh, she just coordinated all of this and had to leave to visit with someone.” Saint shrugged. “She was like a boss, though. Telling each of us what to do and where to put things. Glad you weren’t fuckin’ hurt, though, man.”

I felt a pang of disappointment that I had missed her in my place.

“Me, too,” I murmured, feeling another wave of exhaustion hit me. “Me fuckin’, too.”Chapter 5

You can take a seat in the punk ass bitch section.

-Coffee Cup

Sammy

I knocked on the door and wondered if what I was doing was a bad thing.

I shouldn’t be there.

I shouldn’t be knocking on her door.

It’d been two days since the storm. Two long days since I’d seen her last… until this morning.

I shouldn’t be thinking the thoughts I was thinking after seeing her today. But I was. And I couldn’t stop thinking them. Not even when I tried.

The sight of her this morning was burned into my brain.

Hells bells, she’d been in a pair of tight, barely-there shorts that had a unicorn printed on them, a black tank top with ‘I’m Magical’ printed on the breast, and white tennis shoes. Her hair had been up in a ponytail with the long black strands trailing all the way down to mid-back, and she’d been wearing an American flag fanny pack.

Honestly, she should’ve looked weird.

But goddamn, she didn’t.

She looked fuckin’ magical.

Like no fuckin’ joke, if I could get my mind out of the gutter after seeing her, I definitely wouldn’t be where I was at that moment in time.

And her words from the night of the storm kept replaying through my mind. I’m a bad catch. Nobody wants me. I’m a fuckin’ weirdo.

Though that night I had contradicted all of those things that she’d said, the more I thought about her saying them, the more upset that I got. To the point that I’d contemplated walking over here a hundred thousand times.

But seeing her dressed like my wet dream? That’d been my final straw.

If I hadn’t been at home ‘sick’ I would’ve never seen her, either.

I would’ve normally been at work right now, and if I wasn’t at work, I was getting shit done around town. And I had a feeling that she knew that nobody was around or up this early in the afternoon. ‘Cop row,’ as everyone was calling the string of duplexes that nearly the entire SWAT team lived in, was a ghost town at this hour.

And what better way to know that than being the manager that lived at the end of the street, had security cameras on the entire street, and was at home all day and able to pick and choose her time slots because she was observant?

Or maybe I was just overthinking things. Whatever the reason, I wanted to see her. Badly.

Now I was standing in front of her fuckin’ door with my fist raised to knock.

Something which I did after I was through thinking about whether I should be here and then waited for her to come to the door.

She opened it seconds later, still wearing what she’d been wearing earlier, and my dick automatically got hard—or harder. I’d been sporting a semi since I’d seen her bend over to stretch.