Dare You by Jennifer Brown

Author:Jennifer Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-12-18T16:00:00+00:00

20

JONES WOKE ME with the doorbell.

He’d been ringing it repeatedly for what felt like half an hour, commingling with my dream, just as my dream had absorbed Detective Martinez’s shake the night before.

I sat up in bed, blinking away the ten minutes of sleep I’d gotten. My laptop was still open, the battery dead, and the poem was still lying half-folded next to it. The painting had fallen to the floor. I stumbled into the bathroom, grabbing my phone off my desk on the way and texting Jones to hang on. Mercifully, the doorbell stopped.

I was still in my clothes from the night before, my mascara smeared into raccoon rings under my eyes. My hair was a knotted mess. My chest felt tight and my throat scratchy. I studied myself in the mirror and then leaned away. I looked as bad as I felt. I splashed some water over my face and ran a brush through my hair. There wasn’t enough time to do anything about my clothes, but at least I looked halfway human again. Hopefully I smelled at least halfway human, too. I sniffed my shirt—sweat and garlic and a hint of something distinctly Martinez-y. I spritzed perfume over it.

When I opened the front door, Jones was there, head bowed, hands on hips.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“Of course. Come in.” I backed up to make room, and shut the door after him. We went straight to the living room, Jones easing himself onto the very edge of Dad’s recliner. I sank into the couch, yawning, trying not to give in to the pull of sleep. “I’ve been trying to talk to you, but you haven’t been answering my texts. You totally misinterpreted everything,” I said, but he held up a hand to stop me.

“I have some things I came here to say,” he said. “So I would appreciate it if you’d just let me say them.” I nodded. He took a deep breath and began talking, mostly to his feet. “I don’t know what exactly is going on between you and that cop.”

“Sparring, Jones. That’s all that was going on between me and that cop,” I interrupted, and again he held his hand out to stop me.

I’m not one who likes to be shushed, and it must have shown on my face, because he followed it with, “Please? Nikki?” I glared but kept my mouth shut, and he began again. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and that cop, but you’re more than just working partners or whatever you’re trying to tell me.” I squirmed, a flash of last night going through my head—that weird floaty rainbow sensation that I’d had when he looked in my eyes. I willed it away before it freaked me out again. Jones was wrong. Martinez and I were working partners, and that was it, violet rainbow stripe or no violet rainbow stripe. “But I’ve decided that I don’t care.”

He finally met my eyes. “I mean, I care. I don’t really want you sleeping with him.

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