The Rogue
Chapter 22

Ryan examined his opponent. The obstacles in his path. All of his options to attain success.

And faked left to sink the winning three-pointer as Tyler let out a g***n.

“Nice shot,” Tyler said, his pride making him add, “you d!ck.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said, swiping a forearm across his brow as he tried to regulate his breathing. Tyler—being the kicka*ss friend that he was—had spent a grueling hour in the gym with Ryan, plus another hour letting Ryan beat him one-on-one on the basketball court. The punishing workout had served its purpose, though. For two hours, Ryan had been able to forget the danger Chloe was in enough to enjoy some semblance of normal, and damn, it had felt good.

Not nearly as good as seeing Addison’s smile at the Thirty-Third, or really nearly as good as the trust she’d had in him this morning as she’d told him about her past, and okay, he needed to kill those thoughts quick, because basketball shorts hid nothing and Addison did things to him that he couldn’t control.

Tyler lowered the water bottle he’d half-drained, running a hand over his dark blond crew cut. “So, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to, but is Chloe okay?”

Ryan paused. Addison had made it clear that talking about the details of the case with anyone other than Chloe herself was a definite no-no. There were even bunches of things Addison couldn’t tell the two of them as the investigation unfolded. But Tyler had been Ryan’s best friend since their first day at the fire academy, and he was practically family. Of course, he was worried about Chloe.

“I’m not gonna lie. She’s pretty freaked out,” Ryan admitted. He’d video-chatted with her before he’d met up with Tyler, and even though she’d tried to put on a brave face, the sleepless shadows beneath her eyes had said it all. “But she’s in a safe place, and Addison is doing everything she can to bring Bishop down.”

Tyler’s brows lifted, along with one corner of his mouth. “First name basis, huh? That’s interesting.”

Shit. “It’s, uh…” Oh, hell. He couldn’t lie. Not about this. “It’s definitely something.”

A laugh escaped past Tyler’s smile. “Ha! I just won twenty bucks from Faurier.”

“You guys bet on whether or not I had something going on with Addison?”

“We bet on everything,” Tyler pointed out, and okay, fine, that was accurate. “Anyway, the kind of energy flying around between the two of you that day she overheard you at the fire house only ends up one of two ways. With an arrest warrant or a hookup.”

Ryan snort-laughed. “Yeah, well, she almost arrested me. Twice.”

“At least she knows what she’s getting herself into. Plus, you probably earned it,” Tyler said, sitting on the bench that lined one side of the empty basketball court. “You are kind of a hothead.”

“I’m working on it,” Ryan said.

Tyler’s water-bottle hand stopped halfway to his mouth. “Whoa. You must really like her.”

“I really do.” Well, it looked like he was still going all-in on some things. “But it’s still kind of complicated,” he said, thinking of Addison’s caution—and her reasons for it. “So if you could not collect on that twenty bucks just yet, I’d appreciate it.”

“No worries, man. I’m a vault.” Tyler mimed zipping his l!ps. “Plus, the longer Faurier thinks he’s got a shot at winning that bet, the sweeter it’ll be when I take his money.”

Ryan laughed. “Speaking of Addison, I should probably jet. She’s supposed to call me with an update and I want to be home when she does.”

“I guess that’s not exactly a call you want to take in public, given the circumstances,” Tyler said. Tilting his head, he added, “Do me a favor, would you? When you talk to Chloe, tell her I said hey. And I know you’ve got to keep things quiet, but if there’s anything I can do—”

“I’ll be sure to let you know. Thanks, man.”

Foregoing the locker room, Ryan headed home to shower in the comfort of his condo. He’d kept himself busy all day and was headed back to Seventeen tomorrow, which would definitely keep his brain occupied. But tonight unfurled in front of him in a long stretch of minutes and hours that had the potential to drive him crazy, and even though he took his time in the shower, then tidied his condo—he even cleaned out his fridge, for f**k’s sake—he was pretty much out of keep-busy options before the dinner hour was officially over. Ryan’s stomach rumbled at the reminder, and he thought of the contents left in his fridge only briefly before realizing delivery was the only thing that would save him from eating cereal for dinner.

Grabbing his cell phone from the kitchen counter, he checked for messages (nada), then scrolled through his contacts to replace his favorite pizza place. Before he could hit send, a knock sounded off on his door, sending his pulse up a notch and his curiosity along with it.

One look through the peep hole had his pulse tapping for an entirely different reason. “Hey,” Ryan said, concern mixing in with the reflexive want-want-want that always hit his bloodstream whenever Addison was within ten feet of him. “Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh, God. Yeah. Yes, Chloe’s fine,” she said, and wait, was she nervous? “I just came to give you the update I promised. I know I said I’d call, and here I am on your doorstep, totally unannounced. I should have called.”

Ryan’s smile was entirely involuntary. “I don’t mind,” he said, stepping back to let her inside the condo, then shutting the door behind her. “I was actually about to order a pizza, if you want in on some dinner.”

“That sounds a lot like a date,” she said, but he shook his head.

“It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be, Addison.”

“What if I want it to be a date?”

The question rode out on a near-whisper, so soft that Ryan wasn’t sure he’d heard her properly. But then, Addison nodded, the determination that turned him on like runway lights moving across her pretty face. “I came over here to give you an update on the case, but I also wanted to see you. And get something to eat and hang out for a while.”

He let one corner of his mouth kick upward. “Addison Hale. Are you asking me out?”

“Technically, I think I’m asking you in,” she said, gesturing to his condo. “But, yes. Fine. I know the waiting is driving you crazy, and you were there for me this morning, so I just…I wanted to be here for you, now, to keep your mind off all the what-ifs. I know they can get kind of overwhelming.”

The urge to tell her it wasn’t a trade was strong. She didn’t owe him anything for his listening to her talk about her past. But her expression was so honest and so damn beautiful that all he could do was close the space between them.

“Then, I accept.”

“Good.” Addison pressed up to brush her mouth over his, the gesture soft and sweet, and Ryan lost himself in the comfort of her nearness for a long minute before pulling back.

“Well, I guess that takes the pressure off whether or not we’ll k!ss on our first date.”

She laughed, following him to his kitchen. “I think you and I have had our fair share of suspense. Speaking of which”—she nodded as Ryan held up a bottle of beer he’d pulled from the fridge, smiling in thanks as he popped the top off and passed it over to her—“a lot went down today.”

Her smile didn’t last, and worry laddered up his spine. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not. Bishop moved out of his apartment early this morning.”

Ryan damn near dropped the beer he’d taken out of the fridge for himself. “What?”

“The woman who lives in the apartment across the hall from his saw him moving out this morning, and his landlord confirmed that he paid off his rent and left his keys.” Addison stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his. “But, Ryan, listen to me. We have no indication that Bishop has any idea where Chloe is, and we took every precaution to keep her location hidden, which is how it will stay. Patrol is doing regular drive-bys just to cover every base, but this doesn’t mean we can’t continue to protect her. I talked to her right before I left the precinct. Chloe is still safe.”

Ryan fought for a breath. She was right, he knew. Chloe’s laptop and cell phone were in a drawer at her apartment, both powered off. There was nothing connecting her to Ah-lam, and they’d snuck her out of the Thirty-Third to get her to the dojang. Bishop couldn’t possibly know where she was. Still… “He could be anywhere.”

“He could be in a lot of places,” Addison said, and funny how even her honesty was a comfort. “But right now, we know where he isn’t, and that’s near Chloe. We’re doing everything we can to try and track him down. We’re going to replace him, and when we do, we’ll arrest him. Same as before.”

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, letting her words sink in. Finally, he said, “Okay.”

“Really?”

Part of him was just as shocked as Addison looked. But he couldn’t deny the truth. “If you’re asking if I’m worried about the fact that Bishop is in the wind, my answer is a hard yes. If you’re asking if there’s a part of me that wants to tear out that door and try and hunt him down myself? Also yes,” Ryan said. “But even though that second thing in particular might make me feel better in the moment, I know it won’t help the case in the long run. You have far better resources than I do, and you’re doing all that you can to replace him and take him down. So I guess I have to be okay with waiting. Even if you’re right—it is driving me crazy.”

“How do you feel about pineapple on pizza?” Addison asked, and he coughed out a laugh born more of surprise than humor.

“And this year’s non-sequitur award goes to…” Ryan gestured to her, but she just rolled her eyes and smiled.

“I’m trying to distract you from the thing that’s driving you crazy.”

“By asking me about pineapple on pizza?” he asked.

Addison lifted a shoulder. “Why not? No one is ambivalent about it—you either love it or you replace it abhorrent. So? Are you in camp pineapple or not?”

Ryan took a sip of his beer and considered the question, because f**k it. He really could use a distraction, and this seemed as good as any.

“I am, but only if you balance out the sweetness with something savory, like ham or pepperoni. Otherwise, it’s too much. How about you?”

Grinning, Addison slid onto one of the two stools at his breakfast bar. “Pineapple is sweet. What do you think?”

Ryan lifted his hands and laughed, sitting on the stool beside her. “I think I know what we’re getting for dinner. Also, for the record, this is the weirdest date I’ve ever been on.”

“Well, it’s the only date I’ve ever been on, so I don’t have anything to compare it to. But I think it’s pretty clear that you and I were never going to do anything the traditional way.”

Given their history so far, she was probably right about that. “I take it that means we’re skipping small talk?”

“Not necessarily,” Addison said. “I mean, we can if you want to, but it might be kind of fun if we do it our own way.”

“You have had small talk before, right?” he asked. As far as he was concerned, it was by far the most tedious part of any first date.

Addison’s laugh had him reconsidering. “Not traditional, remember? Let’s try this. What was the craziest call you ever went on as a rookie?”

Huh. “Well, when I was a candidate, I was on Engine.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Addison said, leaning toward him in clear interest.

“Oh yeah. I spent five years on Engine before I moved over to Squad. That’s when Kellan joined Seventeen as a rookie.” Ryan’s body loosened as he mentally rolled through the memories of the time he’d spent at Station Seventeen, and how close he’d grown to the people there. “We went on a ton of crazy calls that first year, but I guess if I had to pick one, it would be the spider fire.”

Both of Addison’s brows raised. “Stephen King called. He wants his next book plot back.”

“It wasn’t literal,” Ryan laughed. “Well, the fire was real, but…a woman decided to try and kill a wolf spider with a torch lighter. The spider freaked out and ran under her curtains. She was pretty adamant that the thing die, so…”

“She did not,” Addison said, and Ryan had no choice but to nod.

“She sure did. She thought she’d be able to scare the spider out and then put out the fire and replace just her curtains. Sadly, fire doesn’t work that way. The curtains were polyester and they went up in about two seconds. By the time we got there, the whole living room was engulfed.”

Addison mouthed “wow” before asking, “Did the woman get out safely?”

He nodded. It had been the saving grace of the call that none of them had been in grave danger, including the homeowner. “Yeah. As far as we know, the spider did, too. How about you?”

She considered the question for a long minute, then said, “I’ve been on a bunch of doozies, but the ghost guy is probably up there as one of the weirdest.”

“You responded to a call about a ghost?” Okay, this was going to be good.

“We did. I’d been a patrol cop for, like, six months, I think? And I was stuck on the graveyard shift. We got this call for a disturbance, so of course, my partner and I are preparing for some kind of fight.” Addison paused for a sip of beer, the glint in her eyes leading him right into the story. “We arrive at the scene, and it’s totally quiet—one of those pretty, old Victorians on the outskirts of the city. A man comes out to meet us and swears up and down that there’s a ghost in his house, and we have to catch it and get rid of it.”

“No,” Ryan said. This might be even better than the spider lady.

“Hand to God,” Addison swore. “He’s adamant that there’s a ghost in the house because he lives alone and he can hear footsteps at night. The guy is otherwise lucid—as soon as we started going through the mental wellness assessment, he insisted he wasn’t crazy and answered all the questions perfectly. Then, just as we were about to do a sweep of the house, we heard the footsteps, too.”

“You’re killing me, here,” Ryan said after her pause had gone on for a beat, then two.

Addison waggled her brows. “My partner and I went up to the attic, weapons drawn and everything…only to replace the guy’s ex-wife up there. Turns out, the man she’d left the homeowner for had found a new girlfriend, and she had nowhere to go, so she’d been sneaking in through the back door to sleep in the attic at night.”

“That sounds like an episode on a tabloid talk show,” Ryan said, and Addison laughed.

“Especially when you consider the fact that they reconciled and she moved back in. As far as I know, they’re still together.”

Ryan paused the conversation to order the pizza—extra pineapple on her half, naturally—and they fell right back into a natural rhythm of trading stories and laughter. The pizza arrived and was eaten in between rounds of “would you rather”, during which he learned she’d rather fight a grizzly bear than a shark (“I like dry land, thank you very much”), she’d rather have telepathy than telekinesis (“being able to read minds would make my job so much easier…plus, it’d be an awesome party trick”), and she’d rather live in a treehouse than a cave (he’d agreed wholeheartedly). Finally, after the pizza had been demolished and they’d long-since switched from beer to water, Addison shifted back on her bar stool and looked at him.

“Wow, it’s getting kind of late,” she said, seeming surprised by the time stamp on her phone. “I should let you get some sleep.”

Ryan shook his head. He was able to curb impulse about some things, but not this. Not her. “I’m not tired. Are you?”

“No,” she said, her pupils flaring to darken her pretty green stare as he stood to move closer to her.

“Thank you for coming over to distract me.”

“Thank you for the pizza.” Addison’s breath dropped to a whisper that found all the deepest parts of him without trying. “There are rules, right? That say a person shouldn’t put out on a first date?”

She tilted her head, her mouth inches from his, and f**k, Ryan wanted her so badly he could taste it.

“I have heard that before,” he said, just in case she wanted the out.

But instead, she k!ssed him. “Screw the rules. I want you, Ryan. I want this. All of it, with no holding back. Take me to bed.”