Chapter Fifteen
Sleepless Nights, Short Tempers, and Sudden Invitations
Elliot
“This is the final prescription for little Charlie, right?” Ashley asks as she shoves the paper under my face.
I glare at her, but it goes completely unnoticed. “I was reading a research paper, Ashley. Fuck,” I snap.
Her face falls. I really was reading something important. She can’t just saunter into my office anytime she wants, without knocking, I might add, and interrupt my flow like this.
Sure, I wasn’t completely focused on the screen when she came in because my mind had decided to play the reel of Drew Blue unsheathing his claws and attacking me over and over. But I would have gotten back to it, I’m sure.
I look at the prescription. “It’s all good,” I try for a softer voice, but it doesn’t quite reach there.
“Okay,” she snatches the paper back and walks out, slamming the door behind her.
I flinch at the impact. Fuck.
Living on barely any sleep is overrated. Especially if you’ve murdered someone recently. 0/10 don’t recommend. Not that I have any way to change that. It didn’t help that everything that could have gone wrong last night did.
I didn’t get back until four in the morning.
I was planning to sleep the entire rest of the weekend off, but as soon as I closed my eyes, all I could see was Drew's scrunched-up face and his claws almost scratching my eyes out before I stumbled out of his car.
As soon as the adrenaline wore off, my mind was reeling, playing it again and again.
When I did finally fall asleep, I dreamt of Raymond Booth again, but this time he was sitting in the backseat of Drew’s car, critiquing my murdering technique. It honestly killed it for me, no pun intended.
Even thinking about it now makes my breath shaky and my heart start an impromptu rave in my chest.
So, I decided to open the clinic after all. Even Ashley readily agreed to come in on her day off.
I pick up the glass of water on my desk with my cold hand. I focus on the water moving down my throat, letting it calm me.
Someone knocks at the door, and it makes me flinch again. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Ashley enters when I call out an annoyed “Yes.” She doesn’t meet my eyes, looking at my desk instead. Probably because I’ve been a jerk to her the whole day. Ugh, I want my bed. Except it’s not a safe place anymore either.
“Mr. Sharma called to see if he can bring his cat for a check-up today. I told him no because you’re being a bitch today.
And Mrs. Rose was too nice to say anything about it, but Mr. Sharma has an ego problem, though it’s considerably less than yours.
He won’t take it. So, whatever crawled up your ass today, take it and yourself back home,” she says.
Well… fair. Is it weird that I feel proud of her for blowing up on me like that?
“You’re right. Thanks,” I nod.
Her eyes snap to mine. “I am?”
“Yup. I clearly need some sleep. But I’ll stay and finish this paper I’m reading. Why don’t you pack up and leave?”
My phone vibrates with a call. I look down to see Sam’s name on the screen. It’s the third call since morning. I let it go to voicemail again. Can’t talk to him yet.
I look back up to find Ashley staring at me, confused. I already miss the mean, confrontational Ashley. Good to know she had it in her while it lasted. That’ll be another reason I won’t fire her, waiting for the next time she lets that version out into the wild again.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask patiently, blinking up at her.
She shakes her head and turns to leave. But then turns to look at me again.
I sigh.
“Is it because of that hot detective? You’ve been snipping at people for a while now,” she says.
“Weren’t you trying to be mean and aloof? Leave,” I snap.
She scowls but leaves. I sigh again. I tried the nice thing, but it’s clearly not for me.
My phone buzzes. It’s “that hot detective”.
Nicholas Harper Oliver’s Friend: Want to grab dinner after work?
I’m too tired. I’m barely tolerable company when I’m at my hundred percent. Right now, I’ll just be lashing out at him while trying not to fall asleep on my feet. Or will probably do something worse, like ask him to hug me and tuck me in.
If that’s the extent of my fantasies about Nicholas ‘Kisses Like He’s Trying To Swallow You Whole,’ Harper, my brain is already halfway back home.
I really, really need to say no.
So, why did I just send him a Sure right now? Must be the missing brain thing.
Nicholas Harper Oliver’s Friend: Awesome! Pick you up in two hours.
At least he spelled out the words this time.
***
I don’t finish the paper in the next two hours. Instead, I think of ways to cancel the dinner plan. At least that internal battle keeps the visions of Drew’s still lifeless eyes and Raymond's helpful commentary about my cowardice because of the lack of blood during my murders at bay.
I type out many rejection messages, ranging from one-word to long paragraphs, and erase them all. Then start up the process again.
By the time someone knocks on my office door—a sudden noise that makes my soul leave my body because I was too focused on typing out a revealing text that I knew I would never send to anyone, let alone Nicholas—I have tied myself in a tight loop.
The door slams open without my permission to a wide-eyed, concerned-looking Nicholas. “You okay?” he asks.
“It’s proper to wait for permission to enter after knocking, Nicholas,” I say, with no bite, because despite the rude entry, it is really nice to see him. Even with wide eyes and the rare frown, he looks good. Really good.
He smiles, small, not the wide grin that’s his default. “As if you give a fuck about proper behavior.”
I turn my laptop off and get up. “Got me all figured out, have you?”
His face goes all thoughtful, and he tilts his head. “Haven’t yet. But I will.” He smiles again, the grin finally making an appearance. “You ready to go?”
“Where are we going?” I ask belatedly, realizing this is the second time I’ve let Nicholas plan everything.
The thought irks me. I don’t like not being in control.
Surprising, I know. I hate how easily this man is taking it away from me.
I really should have driven back home before he got here.
Literal ghosting. I’ve done worse to men before.
Nicholas chews his lips nervously, drawing my eyes to them. I turn and check if all the lights are switched off.
“I thought I’d cook at my place?”
“Are you asking me?” I glance back at him.
“I’m giving you a choice to say no, probably in an extremely devastating, soul-crushing way,” he says, shaking his head.
“How bad do you cook?” I ask.
Nicholas laughs like I made the funniest joke. “Guess you’ll find out. Let’s go, Rhodes. I’m hungry.” He walks out.
I shrug and follow him, hitting the light on the way. Turns out I’m hungry too, definitely for more than food.
We drive separately because his offer of driving me back after dinner was totally absurd.
It’ll inevitably turn into a late night because we’re definitely hooking up after dinner.
By then, it’ll be late enough that I’ll have to offer to take a cab instead.
And if I’m not even in the mood to be civil around Nicholas, I’d be an absolute menace stuck in a car for an hour with a stranger.
So, there’s no way I’m leaving my car behind. And I could definitely use a respite from his bright face. That face confuses me and tempts me to make stupid decisions.
I let him take my phone and put his address in the GPS before we leave, because telling him I already know where I’m going might raise a few red flags.
I drive slower than usual, letting him gain some distance. I wasn’t going to follow him like a stalker, and I’m too annoyed for the small talk we’ll have to make to fill the silence while he cooks.
And I know it’ll be a long silence because this can’t be planned. Nicholas is pretty transparent. I’m honestly surprised he is as successful as he is because it’s hard to imagine him interrogating with such an expressive face.
So, he hasn’t done any prep for this in advance. I have my doubts about his cooking skills, but even if he’s the best one in the world, it’ll take him quite some time to get a meal ready.
Despite all my best efforts, I make it to my destination in one piece. I even thought about stopping to buy wine to delay my arrival more, but that just seemed like an invitation to give him the wrong idea. Let’s keep it to what it is, a casual meal leading to a casual hook-up.
In fact, to hurry shit up, I can suggest ordering pizza, so I can be back home in my bed by eleven. That is, if I can convince Mr. I Do Casual Dates At Fancy Places.
I park on the street right in front of Nicholas’s building.
I take the elevator up to his floor after he buzzes me in.
He’s standing barefoot with the door wide open when I get to his apartment with a goofy apron and a ladle in his hand.
There goes my pizza plan. Most importantly, why is this man so cheesy, and why the fuck do I find it adorable?
I have never found any person adorable before. Fuck, I need some sleep.
A bark from behind him draws my attention away from Detective McStupid. I hurry inside so Mickey doesn’t take this opportunity to make a run for it. Not that he’ll be able to go far.
On cue, Mickey jumps on me, his paws resting on my chest. God, this dog is big.
“Mickey, down,” Nicholas says firmly, and to my utter surprise, Mickey climbs down. “I swear he likes you more than everybody else,” he comments.
Obviously, Nicholas, I helped him get away from his awful previous human. That earns me brownie points for life. “Yeah, animals love me,” I say instead, kneeling to give the good boy some pats.
I’m so happy he’s doing so well with Nicholas, not that I had any doubts about that. The guy is too nice and competent to be a bad dog dad.