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.I flipped a sort of agrin on my face, like switching on a light bulb.I hoped he’d take it forwhat it was: A polite, friendly good-night, and nothing more.Those open blue eyes narrowed, inspecting me carefully beforehe nodded, opened the car door, and hopped out.“Thank you for theride,” Sebastian said quickly, as he was getting wet with the rain,holding the car door open for a moment more to speak.“Good night,Jordan.” I just nodded, he grinned one last time, and shutting the doorwith a loud slam, he was gone.I saw him through the car windowcovered with raindrops, reaching his door, fumbling around his khakispocket for his keys, unlocking the door, and getting in.He waved onemore time before he shut the door.Just shut the door on me.Well, it’snot like that was unexpected.I sat in my seat for an interminable time, just breathing in and out,actually focusing on doing it, as though I’d forget how to do it if Istopped.It had been a wonderful night.Sebastian had made it waymore than bearable.He’d made it fun and challenging and arousing.That the night didn’t end in a quick tumble between the sheets was fine,32Susan Lainetoo, I guess.I had an inkling it wouldn’t have been enough withSebastian anyway.Not something fast and rough.I could have that withanyone.I wanted Sebastian for much longer than that.To learn allabout his body, every line, every curve, every inch of his skin.The tasteof him, the smell of his sex.All that and more.As I pulled out of the driveway back to the nighttime streets, Ikept wondering how Sebastian would sound in bed.The little noiseshe’d make from his chest.Fuck, my body shook all over imagining it.The heat of those luscious wet dreams told me I’d need a long, hotshower when I got home and I’d probably need to do some laundry.And then a cold shower to be able to sleep for longer than five seconds.SOUNDS OF LOVE33Chapter Three“WHY you gotta be like that, Jordy? Don’t you get it? You gotta becareful with Sebastian.”I was slowly getting really and truly irritated with my partner, hisnagging words and scolding tone, like I was ten years old instead ofthirty.It was bad enough to have to come to work on a Saturday, but allmorning he’d given me one lecture after another about Sebastian, hisarguments repeating time and time again.It took time for people to warm up to new people.There waswarming up, and then there was warming up.It came in stages, youunderstand.First there was the kind of warming up to a perfect strangeryou kind of decided to like and get halfway friendly with.Let’s call thisphase one.Then there was warming up to someone you already knewbut weren’t sure you could really trust or let get close to you in anyway, shape, or form.Let’s call this phase two.And lastly, there was thekind of warming up you did when you had your head firmly in thegame and knew the guy through and through and had no compunctionsabout putting yourself out there—even at the risk of getting hurt.Let’scall this phase three.Kevin Thompson, my partner, was somewhere between phase twoand three—and I was beginning to doubt he’d ever get to phase three.Let alone pass it.I gritted my teeth as I tried to focus on the stack of papers in frontof me as we both sat at our desks, facing each other, in the large,echoing squad room.Other officers around us talking on their phones,getting coffee, rustling their papers, interviewing witnesses and34Susan Lainesuspects.Despite the air-conditioning, the air was stale and stuffy andfilled with odors of sweat and coffee that had lingered too long inplace.At least one of the squad room’s bluish overhead lights alwaysflickered, but thankfully today it was on the other side of the room fromme.“He’s a sweet kid, Jordy,” Thompson said for, like, the twentiethtime, and I let out a patient sigh, refusing to look up at him.“Sweetkids get bruised and broken.You don’t want to do that, do you, Jordy?”Enough was enough.“Kev… shut up.”Detective Kevin Thompson saw that as a crack in my armor—andhe wasn’t wrong.Not saying anything would’ve been better.I knewthat.It was a common police tactic.Luring you to say a little, andbefore you knew it you were saying a whole lot, spilling your guts overa cup of sympathetic coffee.Maybe I’d wanted this confrontation.Tojustify to him—and to myself—that I wasn’t going to ruin Sebastian inthe slightest, not even dent him a little.“Just saying is all, Jordy, since he’s going to be around.Here, andfor poker.”“Yeah, yeah.” I sighed again, rolling my eyes.Shit, was he evergoing to give me a break? I mean, Sebastian wasn’t a kid, no matterwhat Thompson alluded to.He was young, sure, but not a child.Andfrom what I could tell, he could hold his own against anybody withoutanyone’s protection.I grunted as I heard my partner taking in a breathto start his yammering again.“Jesus, Kev, would you please let it goalready? I mean why do I have to be so goddamn careful with Sebastiananyway? He’s deaf, not made of glass.”Thompson’s brown eyes flashed as I stared into them.Yeah, bigmistake on my part.“You have a reputation, Jordy.It preceded youhere.You know as well as I a guy can break apart without any of itshowing on the surface.One can be a good little soldier and still haveall of him in tattered little pieces; you know that.”Now it was my turn to get angry.Not that he was angry.Heshowed all the telltale signs of rage, but I knew he wasn’t really mad atme.It was his way
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