Page 1 of Detectives in Love

CHAPTER 1. PRESSED

The headline hits like a punch to the gut.

I sit at the kitchen table with a plate of scrambled eggs and a mug of coffee in front of me, and freeze—head spinning.

The Weekend Herald lies open on the table, glaring up at me like a neon sign.

My appetite disappears. The coffee goes cold in its mug, untouched. My heart slams against my ribs, my throat tightening as the oversized headline screams at me:“PARTNERS IN CRIME…AND BETWEEN THE SHEETS?”

The words are shameless, plastered across the first spread in stark black ink, daring me to look closer. Below the headline is a massive photograph flanked by two smaller ones—grainy and black-and-white, but the people in them are unmistakable.

My stomach churns as I take them in, horror mounting with every second. There we are—Xavier Ormond and me—caught on camera, looking way too intimate to explain.

The fork slips from my hand, clattering to the floor. I don’t even care. All I can do is stare, my face burning with humiliation, my brain scrambling for answers.

Where the hell did these pictures come from? When were they taken? And most importantly—who took them?

The largest photo shows Xavier and me standing near our apartment building on Hickory Road. Xavier’s wearing that dark blue shirt—the one that’s always a little too tight across his annoyingly broad shoulders—with a gray coat over it. His hand is outstretched, casually adjusting the collar of my buttoned-up shirt beneath my unzipped winter jacket.

My throat tightens as I stare at the image. I remember this moment all too well. It was less than a week ago, right after we wrapped up the case of the fashion model’s fake suicide. On our way home, Xavier decided to entertain himself by “reading” me—like some absurd profiler, his gaze narrowing in mock concentration as he smirked and sized me up.

A wave of unease washes over me as I stare at the photo. I remember this exact moment—but not like this. I remember being annoyed by Xavier, defensive, my arms crossed tight over my chest. And yeah, they’re crossed in the photo—but I look…thirsty. The way I’m staring at him—eyes practically heart-shaped, like I’m not just in love with him, but like Iwanthim.

The idea that I might always look at him like that makes my stomach twist. My lips are parted, my gaze soft, my chest almost caving in, like his very presence is pressing down on me.God, I couldn’t even blame this on photoshop or AI—no one could fake something like that. That’s really me, unfiltered—and somehow, that makes it infinitely worse.

Does Xavier see it? Does he know how far gone I am for him? He must. But at least he has the decency to pretend he doesn’t. The whole world, though? They’re not going to be so kind to me.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

God, I’m so screwed.

***

“This buttoned-up look of yours says it all,” Xavier says, smugness practically oozing out of him.

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes. “Enlighten me—what does it say?”

“That you’re all discipline,” he declares, folding his arms like he’s giving a TED Talk. “It shows constraints and expectations. Society’s weight on your shoulders. Self-imposed limitations. Suppression. Self-control.”

I blink, deadpan. “Wow. And here I thought it just said I know how to dress myself.”

He chuckles, that familiar teasing edge making my chest tighten despite myself. His gaze holds mine, a glint of mischief in his eyes, like he’s toying with me—like he’s brushing his fingers down my spine without even touching me.

“You’re such a good boy,” Xavier continues, his tone silky. “It shows in everything you do—right down to the very last button.”

Heat creeps up my neck, and I swallow hard, forcing my voice to stay even. “Ha-ha, very funny, Xavier. But I’m not one of your fangirls, so stop showing off. I’m not a good boy—at least, not the way you think. And as for my collar? It has nothing to do with your ridiculous theory. I just like it that way.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine.” I cross my arms, rolling my eyes for good measure. “It might be hard for you to believe, but some of us don’t enjoy showing off our bodies like you do.”

Xavier tilts his head, calm as ever, like I’m a child caught in a lie he saw through from the start.

“That’s not it either.”

I scowl. “Oh, really?”

His gaze drifts over me for a fraction of a second before locking back on my face. “You have a nice body.”