Just give me this; the part of you I never doubted.

But she didn’t.

And then it was my hand around my cock as she left me on the edge with remorse and hurt in her eyes.

At me.

At herself.

I started choking on my own emotions as the situation sank in. As I realized how completely pathetic I was for letting this chick get to me. Again. And I’d needed to get the hell out of there. Away from her. Putting distance between us is the only thing that ever helps. And it doesn’t even help that much.

Because even though I’ve gone mostly all twelve months we’ve been apart without seeing her, I still think about her constantly.

Like right now.

It’s been four days since the baby shower—enough time to get most chicks out of my system, but not this one. I’ve been staring at the same spot on the floor as Ben and CJ, another cop in our precinct, talk about an arrest Ben and I made yesterday. I could contribute. I was there, for fuck’s sake, but I’m too busy picturing the look on Tessa’s face when she shoved me away from her on Saturday.

As if my touch repulsed her.

As if her own actions disgusted her.

“Luke.”

I look up, seeing two pairs of eyes on me as I run my thumb over the coin in my hand. I focus on CJ, whose voice broke me out of my head. “Yeah?”

He stands from his perch on the edge of the desk, reaching around and pulling out his wallet. “You want anything from Chap’s?”

“No, man. I’m good.”

He acknowledges me with a nod, thumbing through the cash in his wallet. “Spot me a twenty, Kelly. I’m good for it.”

Ben laughs from the chair behind his desk. “You’re good for shit. You still owe me from the poker game three weeks ago.”

CJ’s eyes lose focus as he tucks his wallet away. “Fuck. I forgot about that.”

“That’s funny. I’ve only been reminding you every other day,” Ben says, the sarcasm coating his words. He leans back, smiling. “Just have it for me by Friday morning. I’m taking off early to get on the road with Mia.”

“Yeah, all right. I’ll see you guys.”

“Later,” Ben responds, before his keyboard clicks with his typing. I’ve zoned out again, but this time it doesn’t go unnoticed. “You all right over there?”

I turn the coin over a few more times before glancing up at him. I slip it into my front pocket and tuck my hands behind my head, leaning back in my chair. “How’s Mia feeling about the trip this weekend?”

I see his reaction to the question I’ve dodged, but he doesn’t pry. He scratches the back of his head, keeping his other hand on the keyboard. “She’s anxious, I can tell. But she really wants to spend the anniversary of her mom’s death in Fulton. She’s got all this stuff she wants to do with Nolan that the two of them used to do. I just…” He blinks heavily, bringing both hands to his lap as he leans back. “I don’t want this to be too hard on her. With the baby coming soon, she doesn’t need to be upset or stressed out. And I hate seeing her sad. It fucking kills me.”

I see the depth of his feelings for Mia every time he talks about her. Or looks at her. It’s been like that since last summer, when she showed up and completely knocked him on his ass. No other girl has done that to Ben. Not since I’ve known him, anyway. I know if something happened to her, to Nolan, it would kill him. He wouldn’t come back from it.

“Mia’s tough,” I say, seeing Ben lift his eyes to me. “She’s probably a lot tougher than you give her credit for.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He scratches his head before leaning forward and typing on his keyboard again. “Does it get easier?”

“No,” I quickly reply, not needing to think about it. After twelve years it hasn’t gotten easier, and I’ve stopped believing that it will.

He looks over at me, frowning, and I suddenly feel like a complete shit for not filtering my outburst.

I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees as I crack my knuckles. “It’ll get easier for Mia. She has you, Nolan, and the baby. It won’t always be this difficult for her. It’s still raw right now, but every year, it’ll ease up a bit.” I put so much conviction in my voice that I almost start to believe it. But the reality of my situation quickly crushes any false hope that could seep into my head and poison what I know to be certain. It doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t say it for my reassurance. I said it for his.

“Thanks, man.” His look tells me he thinks it’ll get easier for me too, and I nod as if I agree. He turns back to his computer screen, leaning closer. “Well, this guy my sister is going out with is either a fucking ghost, or he’s never done so much as run a stop sign. I can’t find him in here.”

“What’s his name?” I ask, hitting a few keys and pulling up our search system.

He looks over at me. “I just looked. He’s not in there.”

“And you spell for shit. What’s his name?”

He laughs, standing and grabbing his coffee mug before rounding his desk. “Tyler Knight. Real complicated spelling.”

I ignore his teasing tone as he walks away and type in this creep’s name. The hourglass spins as it searches before the three words I was hoping I wouldn’t see pop up on my screen.

Search not found.

Fuck. If I had more than just his name, I could search for him in our other system and pull up his license. Then I’d have an idea what this guy looks like, where he lives, if he’s a fucking organ donor.

The phone on my desk rings and I close out the search engine and answer it.

“Evans.”

“Hey, Luke. Come in to my office for a second, will ya?”

The captain’s voice has me on my feet. “Yes, Sir. I’ll be right there.”

I hang up and walk around my desk, passing Ben. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Captain wants to see me.”

I walk across the room and knock on the door at the end of the hallway.

“Yeah?” the voice behind it calls out.

Pulling the door open, I step into the office and see Captain Meyers behind his desk, flipping through a stack of paperwork. The smell of old wood and cigars fills the air, and I spot a snuffed out stub hanging on the edge of the ashtray on his desk. Captain looks up and motions toward an empty chair across from him. “Have a seat, son.”

Son. He always calls me that. He’s the only person who has called me that in twelve years.

I close the door behind me and take a seat, nervously picking at the wood on the arm of my chair. I’m not called in this office much, the last time being when this asshole I arrested claimed I was too rough with him. I hadn’t been, and Ben had vouched for me, but the captain still reamed me out for it.

Not that the guy didn’t deserve to get his ass beat by me. But I’d never do anything to risk my job. Out of uniform, though, I would’ve knocked him around a little. Or a lot.

The larger than life man across the desk, who always reminds me of John Goodman, picks up a file that’s laid off to the side and opens it in front of him. He clears his throat, running a hand over his goatee. “I got a call today from Captain Kennedy over in Port Deposit. Seems he has a spot open for detective in his unit and requested you by name.” He licks his thumb and proceeds to flip through the papers in the file. Pulling out one, he hands it to me from across the desk. “You still interested in making detective?”