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Tiller flicks him a hard glance that would have anyone pissing their pants. No one fucks with Tiller and everyone knows it, including Cody. A cop car pulls up outside, no lights, and a woman cop steps out of her patrol car.
Wrong move, Santa Monica police. Should have sent a male cop.I’m not saying this chick can’t do her job and enforce the law, but has she met Tiller yet?
Tiller brings his attention back to me and leans forward, both hands braced on the handlebars, his cigarette loosely hanging from his lips. His scent and body heat surround me, penetrating all my senses. He smells like racing fuel and sweat, two things I’ve never been able to ignore on him. “What are you gonna do?”
“The cops are here. You’re going to get arrested.” My warning whispers across my lips.
“When has that ever stopped me?” he asks impatiently, revving his bike once with a smirk.
While Tiller has fun with the female cop, and asks to put the handcuffs on her, I take a moment to regard Cody, who’s looking rather pissed, and if he thought he could somehow get away with it, he’d start a fight with Tiller on the mere principal of pulling what he did tonight.
The restaurant clears out, I apologize to the manager, and everyone else, something I feel like I do a lot for Tiller, but I’m still stuck on what to say to Cody. It’s when we’re outside, near my car when he lets out a deep sigh. “That didn’t go as planned.”
“I know,” I say, fidgeting with the straps of my bag in my hand. Lifting my eyes to his, I give him a soft smile. “I’m sorry he did that.”
He nods, as if there’s no need to explain, because let’s be real here, he knows Tiller’s like this. Anyone who’s spent more than a couple hours around the destructive sometimes mute crazy, knows his mind works completely differently than most normal people’s. He probably thought all this was okay. Like it was somehow an act of love, or display of affection. This is Tiller we’re talking about.
But it’s Cody’s words next that hit me. “I didn’t realize there was something going on between you two.”
I hesitate, afraid to admit, unable to deny completely, but I try. “There isn’t,” I lie, secretly loving the madness of Tiller in the shadows of everything we might never be.
In my hesitation, he finds my answer and walks away.
You can have ordinary love. I want to drown in uncontrolled passion.
When I said I was going out on a date, I didn’t think it’d end in me bailing Tiller out of jail, but I can honestly say, at least it wasn’t me in jail this time. And I also have to admit that display in the restaurant was hot as hell. Didn’t you think so? If you answered no, I commend you because you clearly have more self-control than I do.
“I’m going to be later than I originally thought.”
“Oh, really?” Tracy sounds excited. She thinks the date went well. “That’s great!”
If only. “Actually, it’s kind of a mess.” I hold the phone between my shoulder and ear and start my car. “I’ll be a few hours.”
She hesitates, and I hear Kona barking in the background and then River’s infectious giggle. “Is everything all right?”
I pause, then sigh. How do I explain? Should I? It’s not all right. I’m in love with a jerkface who works my heart like the crowds he entertains. But Tracy, she doesn’t need to be bothered with my problems. She’s sixteen.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll be back soon. Is River okay?”
“Yep. She’s watchingBeauty and the Beast.”
I smile. She watches it constantly and is obsessed with the beast.
I hang up. And then, for the second time in a month, I’m talking to police officers. Instead of negotiating the care of a child, I’m negotiating the bail of a man who acts like a child. I’m telling them it’s a misunderstanding, like they’ll let him out based on that alone.
I guess maybe they would have if Tiller hadn’t told the police officer she could put the handcuffs on him only if she promised to let him put them on her next.
I use my rent money to bail him out. I know I’m being irresponsible by using my rent money, but I chalk it up to being a good person who wants answers.
As soon as I see him, I demand he tell mewhyhe did that. There had to be a reason for it. “What the hell was that back there?”
“Where’s my bike?” He wants to know, shirtless and careless to anything.
Tiller’s a spoiled brat. Raised by a bachelor with hardly any supervision, he’s done what he wants most of his life and rarely has to answer to anyone for his behavior. And I can’t for the life of me unlove him.
“Where’s your jersey?”
He shrugs, reaching for his cigarettes. “Gave it away.”