Most hospitals didn’t care too much about proper protocol when I flashed my badge, and this time was no different. I was in the back within minutes. And that was when I ran into Eddie.

  “I work here … you know, saving lives and such,” he answered haughtily. God, I hated him. It was a shame too because he had the face of a model and the body of a sculpture. But no amount of hotness could take away from his crap attitude. And that made him immediately ugly.

  “I’m checking on a victim,” I answered his earlier question. “But I’m not sure where he is,” I admitted.

  The glare Eddie had on his face momentarily disappeared. “What’s his name?”

  “Why? You going to give him some cyanide now that you know he’s associated with me?” I asked, half-joking. I couldn’t help my attitude toward him.

  “Who needs cyanide? I have plenty of other ways to get the job done,” he retorted with the same half-sarcastic, half-joking tone. “Give me his name,” he demanded, “and I’ll find out for you.”

  “Andrew Mclaun. Domestic dispute victim. Gunshot wound to the side, brought in around five p.m.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered, my appreciation sincere even if I hated that it was Eddie who was helping me. He just nodded his acknowledgment before turning to find out what happened to Andrew for me.

  Waiting there in the ER hallway, I leaned against the wall, watching the buzz around me. The chaos in here was different than the chaos in my line of work, but it was still chaos, and it was comforting in a way.

  After a few minutes, he came back. “He’s stable but resting. You can visit, but it’s probably best if you only stay a few minutes,” he told me without so much as a hello.

  “Thanks,” I told him for the second time that day, something I never thought I’d tell him even once.

  “Don’t mention it,” he told me. “Well, all right,” he said somewhat awkwardly. “Hope he gets better. It was, uh, interesting running into you. But I gotta run.”

  “Uh, yeah, same.”

  Then he was gone, and I hated him just a tiny bit less.

  Eddie

  “You have to be fucking kidding me.” I turned around just in time to see Officer Drew walking toward me, her luscious hips swaying with each step, her full lips turned down into a slight pout, her hair cascading down around her shoulders. Officer Drew had been sexy as hell in her uniform, all business, strong, determined. I even liked the way she ignored my flirting, intent on doing her job. She reminded me of Kat and Sophie, two women I respected.

  And then she turned into a bitch, and despite how attracted I was to her, my respect went right out the window. I could say I even hated her a bit, but that didn’t stop me from imagining what she looked like when she wasn’t all business. I was a guy, after all, and a hot woman was a hot woman. She could be ugly inside, but my dick still got hard if she was the opposite of ugly on the outside.

  I could even admit she starred in a few of my more X-rated dreams shortly after our roadside encounter. And then my mind moved onto the next hot piece. Until I ran into her in my ER of all places. Okay, it wasn’t mine, per se. But it was my job, my home away from home. It had actually felt like she’d invaded my personal space until I found out why she was there. Rat bastard had beat a woman, and then when her brother had stepped in, he got a bullet in the process. I didn’t take kindly to fuckers who hit women. I’d seen it happen to Katherine and my mom when they were strung out, but for the most part, I was too young to do anything about it. When I got older, I tried, but as I was still a lanky teen, having not come into my own yet, I ended up with a few bruises and split lips. It was worth trying, though. I didn’t regret it, even if I never won.

  So I did take kindly to those who stepped in, like the brother who was in my ER. I thawed a bit toward Officer Drew that night, and I think she did too. A bit being the key words. Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t friends, and I highly, highly doubted we’d ever be. Besides, it wasn’t like we’d see each other again … except here we were.

  And holy fucking shit was Officer Drew hot as hell when she was out of uniform. A tight red dress hugged her curves, showcasing her ample cleavage. She wore minimal makeup, but she didn’t need a lot. Her face was fucking perfect. Even with the sneer she directed at me, I had to tame little Eddie, coaxing him to stay down.

  “You’re Edward?” she asked incredulously. “Navy blue shirt, sitting at the bar, holding a red tulip,” she said the words as if she were reading a transcript as she nodded toward the red tulip I had on the bar. Roses were cliché, so I’d opted to use a tulip. Honestly, I didn’t think people used little tokens for identification anymore. I thought that was a thing of the past, but I hadn’t dated in a long time, so I was a bit rusty. And truth be told, the only reason I was even on this blind date was because one of my elderly patients had insisted she had the perfect woman for me. “Headstrong just like you,” she had told me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t interested. All I knew was that my blind date was “pretty, smart, and a good catch.” And her name was Evie.

  Apparently, Officer Drew was Evie. And apparently, Officer Drew hadn’t been told much about me either.

  “The one and only, but everyone calls me Eddie,” I said with a wink.

  “What the hell did I do in the past life for the universe to hate me like this?” she asked, but I didn’t think she was looking for an answer, so I just smirked in response. “Debra, my neighbor, has been dying to set me up with her grandson for years. I kept turning her down, and he finally got a girlfriend, so she moved onto you, I guess. My excuse before was that if things didn’t work out, it would put me and her in an awkward situation. The truth is that I just wasn’t interested in him. But I had no excuse when she offered you up. Now her grandson isn’t looking so bad,” she told me.

  “Gee, thanks,” I muttered. “Loving the vote of confidence.”

  “We aren’t exactly a match made in heaven,” she said, still standing beside me.

  “Well, Debra seems to think so. You’re already here, so why not sit down, have a drink, and we can chat. What’s the harm?”

  “Besides me throwing my drink in your face? How about I arrest you?”

  “You’re off duty,” I pointed out.

  “Still a cop.”

  “Touché.”

  “Come on. What could go wrong?” Famous last words …

  What could go wrong, you ask? Oh … just everything. Disaster date from hell. Surprisingly, it went okay at first. We did the whole twenty-questions song and dance where we learned about each other—our families, how we got into our professions, our hobbies, etc. Things were looking promising. We’d done a one-eighty from our mutual hate of each other, even going so far as laughing, joking, and bantering with each other.

  Things were going so well that when I suggested we move to the restaurant portion and get some dinner, Evie agreed. Who the hell knew?

  And that was when things went to shit.

  They said to avoid politics and religion for a reason. Why? Because they caused fucking problems, that was why.

  I was a republican, and she was a democrat. No biggie, right? Only if we were both non-caring individuals. But we’re both strong-willed, and this included our views as well. I didn’t know who brought it up first, but the next thing you knew, we were practically yelling across the dinner table about Trump and Clinton and Bush. Hell, we even managed to bring in Reagan, Kennedy, and Nixon. Don’t ask me how, I didn’t even fucking know.

  And if that wasn’t enough, it somehow led into religion. Turned out throwing out Catholic jokes was a no-go to a staunch Catholic. I wasn’t exactly the religious type, so how the hell was I supposed to know it would piss her off? Where the fuck was her sense of humor? Or her laid-back attitude? It was a joke, not a declaration of war.

  This led to us arguing about everything, from the food we were eating—yes, we somehow managed to order food—to dream vacations. It was my dream. How the hell could a dream be wrong?

  I was actually surprised we lasted as long as we did before she threw her fork down. “I hate to waste a perfectly good meal, but it’s long turned sour in my stomach. And I can’t sit here any longer listening to your bullshit.” Then she stormed out.

  I got a few nasty looks as she walked away as though her pissy attitude was my fault. News flash, I was just as mad at her. Safe to say we still hated each other, but at least we’d never see each other again.

  Evie

  Just when I thought I had figured Eddie Valencia all wrong, he went and ruined it.

  “You look beautiful,” he told me after I’d agreed to stay for the evening. Then he stood and pulled out the barstool next to him so that I could sit down. Score one for Eddie. When he asked what I wanted to drink, and I told him a beer, he smiled before saying, “Nice.” And I could tell he meant it. Most associated beer as a “manly” drink, and couple that with me being a cop … well, let’s just say the usual responses weren’t “Nice.” Score two for Eddie. And then he just kept racking up the points after that. Next thing you know, I was actually enjoying my evening with the man I’d hated just an hour before. Apparently, Debra knew what she was doing.

  It didn’t hurt that he was nice to look at either. Tall, well-built, in good shape, a bit of outline from his abs showing through his gray button-down, his toned arms visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves. His caramel-colored eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes were almost unfair. A chiseled jaw, strong cheekbones, and thick black hair that made me want to tug on the ends rounded out his features. It seemed to be a win-win.

  “Now that I’ve caught you laughing at my lame jokes, want to move this to the restaurant part and grab some dinner?”

  I smiled at his choice of words, and said, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

  We made it to the table, sat down, picked out our food, and were waiting to order when Eddie pointed his head over to his right, and said, “Look, a little Trump supporter in the making.” I looked over to see what he was talking about, and there was a couple with a baby in a stroller, her little sock-covered feet hung by the end of the stroller. On them, they said Trumpette. Thanks to my brother and his family, I happened to know that was a valid sock brand for babies. Yep, that was literally all they were known for—baby socks. So they weren’t exactly cheap, but they weren’t too expensive either.

  I could see why someone who didn’t know about them would make the remark Eddie did. It hadn’t bothered me since he was just making a statement. “Ha,” I told him. “It’s a sock brand for babies.”

  “Trump makes socks for babies?” he asked with confusion.

  I giggled in response. “These socks are actually good. Trump doesn’t make anything good.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he responded. I suddenly found myself sitting a little straighter as a bit of tension crept into my spine, making it go solid. “His policies haven’t been bad, really, when you think about them. Even the extreme ones aren’t any different from policies implemented in the past.”

  “You’re a Trump fan?” I asked.

  The server coming to take our orders thwarted his answer, but I was already simmering beneath the surface.

  “I’m not a fan, but I’m not not a fan either. I’m a republican, so many of his views align with mine. And really, what’s so bad about the things he’s done in office?”

  “He’s an asshole, a womanizer, and piece of shit,” I said, my voice rising a little higher.

  “You’re probably right,” he said with a shrug, “but I can’t speak about his personality since I don’t know the guy. I’m just talking about his professional side.”

  “He’s not professional at all,” I said through clenched teeth. “Do you even follow the things he says?” I asked.

  “Oh, I whole-heartedly agree that he needs to shut the hell up. He needs a filter, a muzzle, and a course on how not to sound like a dumbass,” he told me, and I could tell he meant it, so that calmed me down a bit. “But I’m not marrying the man, so I don’t give a damn about his words or how smart or stupid he is. I simply care about what he’s implementing in office. And that’s not bad.”

  “He’s the role model for the entire country. How could you not care about him as a person?”

  “Clinton cheated on his wife and lied about it, so technically, he’s a shitty person, right? Yet here I am not giving a shit about what he did as a person, only what he did in office. And republican or not, I do appreciate what he did.”

  I could go on and on about the rest of dinner, but it was just more of that. Except it got gradually worse because we both became upset. And when you were already upset, every little thing pissed you off. The things that normally wouldn’t bother you suddenly do. The things you had no right to be mad at, you couldn’t help but be mad then. That was what happened to both of us until I couldn’t take it any longer.

  I got up, left, and never looked back.

  Good riddance.

  And then I purposely blocked all thoughts of him out of my head.

  The was two weeks ago …

  “Looks like the universe finds our situation laughable,” he said as he stared right at me, watching me walk into the elevator with him.

  “You have to be fucking kidding me,” I answered in response as I had stepped in, my legs carrying me in before my head could tell them to halt. “I’ll take another elevator,” I said just as the doors closed, effectively trapping me in the elevator with the man I hated who I knew hated me. Clearly, some higher being was bored beyond belief and needed some comical entertainment in the form of my life. At least it would only be for less than a minute as my stop was only four flights up, and by the looks of it, Eddie’s was two flights up. Thank God for small miracles.

  I spoke too soon.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head as the elevator halted, but the doors stayed shut. “No,” I said again as I realized they weren’t going to open. Then the panic set in, and it set in quickly. I began pressing buttons, any button, all buttons, trying to get the elevator to move.

  “Evie.” I heard my name. “Evie.” I heard it repeated and then repeated again. “Evie!” This time, it was yelled loud, so loud that I actually halted, turned around, and came face to face with Eddie, who was standing there. His hands were up as if in defense, but he was close to me, so close I could feel his heat. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice a direct contrast to the nasty tone he’d given me when I first walked into the elevator.

  “We’re stuck,” I told him, my voice soft but the fear apparent.

  “I gathered as much,” he said with a little smirk, trying, I believe, to alleviate the tension. “I’m pretty sure going all three-year-old boy on the elevator buttons isn’t going to help, though,” he added. I might have smiled in another situation, even if it was Eddie Valencia, but not now. Being a cop, you got over any fears you had rather quickly, or you didn’t survive. Fear of bad guys? Pssshhh. Fear of guns? I was a gun. Fear of death? Hope it didn’t happen, but if it did … sucks. But fear of closed spaces? Yeah, that didn’t go away … at least not for me. It was one thing to be in a small space but know you had a way out. This, though, being stuck in here, that was different. When I was little, I loved playing hide-and-seek. I played it at the park with my friends and my older brother. And I was good at it too, always finding the spot where no one would find me. The last time I played, it was in our home with just me and my brother. I found an old trunk in the attic. I climbed in and closed it. I wasn’t scared, and it did take my brother a while to find me. I was actually proud of myself. That is, until he found me and couldn’t open it. When I closed it, I had somehow locked it too. Not a big deal, right? Just get the key and let me out … except we didn’t have the key. My parents had to break it open. Until they did that, I was scared I’d never get out. Logically, I knew that wasn’t going to happen, but to a ten-year-old girl, that was a scary experience. I never played again, and I had a fear of small spaces ever since. I couldn’t avoid them, so I learned to accept them as long as I knew there was a way out.

  “There’s a call box right there, Evie,” Eddie said slowly as if I were a child. At that moment, I might as well have been. I nodded and watched as if in slow motion as he picked up, called, spoke to someone, and then hung up. “The good news is that they are sending a technician, and they promise once he’s here, it’ll only be two minutes before we’re out. The bad news is that he’s twenty minutes away.”

  “No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted. “This can’t be happening.”

  “Jesus Christ, Evie, you’re shaking,” Eddie said, somewhat shocked before he grabbed me, and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly even as I fought him. Normally, I’d be able to tackle him to the ground and have him struggling in my arms, but right then, all normalcy was gone. I was a ten-year-old girl trapped all over again, and despite my protests, I welcomed the comfort provided by his embrace .

  When I finally gave up trying to worm my way out of his arms, he lowered us both to the ground, basically cradling me in his arms like a small child.

  “Of all the gin joints, er, elevators, you walk into mine,” he said with a quiet laugh. His lame joke and his light laughter, his breath fanning my hair, seemed to calm me just a bit. “Better me than alone, huh?” he asked.

  “Or maybe you jinxed the elevator, and that’s why we’re stuck,” I countered, shocked at my ability to joke when my body was a bundle of tightly wound nerves.

  “Busted,” he said, and I could hear his smile even as I had my head buried in his chest. “Only way to pick up girls …”

  I smiled. “So this entire thing has been one elaborate scheme to get me to this point?” I asked, playing along.

  “Oh, absolutely,” he said. “I mean, after that incredible date we had,” he said sarcastically, “how could I not want to get you alone and scared in an elevator with me?”

  “I’m sorry I said a beach vacation was stupid,” I told him, suddenly feeling guilty for some of the things I’d said, when I hadn’t before. I was the exact opposite of a Trump supporter, mostly because of who he was as a person. Eddie technically agreed he was a shitty person, but he just didn’t care about that. In theory, that wasn’t a reason to hate the guy. But at the time, I could only see red once I knew Eddie didn’t hate him like I did. And then I just talked shit about everything Eddie said. But now, surrounded by his warm embrace, his strength giving me strength, I didn’t care about all that. I didn’t care about it at all. In fact, I felt maybe I’d been too harsh. “Right now, that actually sounds nice. I could use a few days on the beach,” I told him. “But at the time, well … I was angry, so I said some things out of anger.”

 

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