Class Acts Volume 1

Chapter 3-3

I stared at Detective Simms like he was a new species of rodent. “Say what, now?”

He smirked, which made me want to slap him. “A date? You’ve heard about such things, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Heard about them, yes. Done them, not so much. It’s more a ‘get-off and go’ type of deal. The last guy I was with came around for a booty call on the regular. It was never more than that. It’s what I’ve come to expect.” Shut up.

“Please. Hot guy like you? You probably have them lining the streets, practically coming in their pants to have a chance with you.” Was he high?

That comment caused bitter laughter to burst out of me. “If s*x was all I wanted, it wouldn’t be an issue. And for your information, detective, I was too busy taking care of my dad, which you know, and before that, going to school and teaching, which you also know, to even think about dating. What sane man wanted the kind of baggage I brought to the table? And anything else was simply because I needed release, or the other guy was desperate enough to ignore everything about me that everyone else despised.” s**t, I need to stop running my mouth.

Simms looked at me like I was crazy. “Are you nuts? I wanted to jump so badly when we met, but it wouldn’t have been professional.”

I scoffed even as I felt a glimmer of…something…at his confession, because he had to be lying. He had to. “Please. What is this, some kind of ‘let’s show our appreciation to the plain, dumpy guy who just stumbled across a body’? Is that what this is? Some way of assuaging your conscience or something? ‘Cause I’m not buying it.”

Simms glared at me. “This pity party of yours is pathetic. You could have whatever you want, whomever you want. You’re letting the past rule your life.” And the pity that crossed his face made me feel shame—and anger. Who did he think he was, to judge me?

I shoved him back with my free hand. “Whatever you think you know from your research about me, means s**t. You know nothing about who I am, so f**k you for your presumption!” The fact that he could see to the heart of me, things I kept hidden, even from myself, it seemed, cut deep. “What I do, how I conduct my goddamn life is none of your business.” I was shouting now, and I couldn’t make myself stop. Screw you for…” And my voice broke. “Just…go away.”

“Fitz,” I heard Simms say, but I ignored him and walked toward the building.

I heard footsteps behind me. “Fitz, I’m sorry. Please, just stop.” He grabbed my wrist and I tugged, trying to get away. He wouldn’t let go.

I was ashamed of the tears I could feel at the corner of my eyes. I didn’t want him—anyone—to see me like this. “Haven’t you done enough?” I asked, voice low and defeated.

“I was wrong,” he replied, wiping away a tear that had escaped, anyway. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I promise. I see the man you are, and I just…Look, I really want to get to know you better, as badly as I’ve portrayed that.” Simms stepped back and let go of my wrist, watching me warily.

I realized, then, that I’d been holding my breath. “You’re an ass,” I said, not really wanting to forgive him, but feeling myself thawing just the same.

“I know.” I looked at him in the glare of the overhead lights in the parking lot. He seemed earnest and…contrite, which I had not expected.

Not knowing what to say right then, I walked around him and entered the building, heading for the stairs. Simms stayed right behind me, his scent inescapable in the stairwell. Guess he wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“So, are you gonna say ‘yes’ to a date?” He was back to his smart-assed self. God.

“Not interested,” I replied, though the rest of me knew my response for a lie. A guy like Simms, as arrogant as he could be, was twenty times the man Jerry would ever be. I pushed open the door to the fifth floor and let go, hoping it would smack Simms in the face, just for my amusement. No such luck.

“Yes, you are, though why you keep denying it, I don’t know,” Simms replied, and I rolled my eyes.

“Has anyone ever said ‘no’ to you before?” I muttered as we turned the corner, just in time to see Henry and Jerry plastered to each other, as usual, against Henry’s door. My breath hitched, but I played it off, coughing as quietly as I could while hurrying to my door and unlocking it.

I turned to tell Simms to “piss off” one last time and let me wallow in my own misery, when I noticed him studying the two men with a frown.

“What?” I asked, and watched a scowl take over his face.

“Which one of those guys hurt you?” he asked softly, and my heart began to pound. How did he know? And wasn’t that the last straw?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all I could say in reply before stepping inside, using one foot to keep Rapunzel from getting out, as was the norm, while attempting to shut the door in Simms’s face.

Instead, he took the beer out of my hand and placed it on the floor before dragging me back out into the hallway, shutting the door on Rapunzel, and leaning in to kiss me like his life depended on it.