I don’t know why I’m so rattled by a simple kiss on the cheek when the sunscreen episode was clearly far more intimate.
But, damn, I am.
“I swear, I’m going to buy a new coffee maker myself. That coffee tastes like shit and takes an hour to pour.”
I turn my face towards Matthew who grabs two coffee cups from the top shelf. His graying hair a little disheveled and the usually shaved stubble saying that he probably spent the night working here before starting his normal day.
“Has anyone ever asked for a new one?”
“I don’t know,” he grumbles, and I step aside so he can pour his cup. “But everyone knows this one needs to be changed. We shouldn’t have to put in a formal request or some shit.”
“Someone’s had a rough night,” I hear Raphael chuckle from the door and I tense uncontrollably, my body going into fight or flight mode.
“Shut up,” Matthew mutters, filling my cup after his. “It was supposedto be your damned case, but you bailed on me.”
“I didn’tbail. I left ten minutes early with the chief’s permission. I couldn’t guess there was going to be a murder.”
“Yeah well, I’m tired and I missed date night with Daze. You owe me one, because I could have called you back and let you deal with the mayhem yourself.”
“Sure,” Raph shrugs, stepping around us to pour himself a cup, and I turn around, walking to the door. “Prudence, I need a sketch,” he says, stopping me in my tracks.
And he doesn’t even bother asking. How has Grumpy flirty guy from Indianola become Rude assface from Los Angeles?
“I’m done for today,” I say without turning around. “Jericho and Mary-Ann will be here in about ten minutes.”
“Hm… You still have ten minutes before you’re officially done for the day.”
“She can’t,” Matthew says, chewing on a nearly eight hour old doughnut. “She reached her overtime quota for the month. Looks like we really need to hire more sketch artists…”
“Then a word, maybe?” Raph says, towards me.
I clear my throat and turn my face, giving him the most forced smile I’ve ever given. “Sorry. Got some paperwork and then I’m off on a date.”
“Oooooh, that’s why Nate said no for an unplanned consult after the one he came for,” Matthew chuckles, his good mood obviously back thanks to the needed caffeine and sugar. “Aren’t you off the next two days because of your overtime?”
“I am.”
He gives me a wicked smile, wiggling his eyebrows. “If you guys get married in Las Vegas, send me the link so I can watch the ceremony!”
I roll my eyes, catching Raphael’s annoyed face in the process. The next time I’m angry enough at him, I’ll draw himchokingon the damned doughnut.
“Anyway. I’m gonna head back to my desk to finish my work and then I’ll be off. See you Thursday?” I ask Matthew, ignoring his rude co-worker’s gaze.
“I hope not. You’re just on call Thursday and Friday, and Chief Kosby won’t let us to call you unless all other artists are dead or dying. You’ve donetoo much overtime. She’s very strict about the freelancers overtime,” Matthew says solemnly.
“Well then, see you next week, I guess?”
“Yes. Enjoy your few days out of the precinct with Reed.” He winks dramatically, and I groan as I finally exit.
When I reach my desk, I release a tense breath, closing my eyes for a couple of seconds. Yep. I definitely can’t stand to be in the same room as Raph. It’s not the same tension I had with Nate at first, when I just felt uncomfortable and awkward.
This feeling? I feel like I’m stuck inside a room too small for me, in itchy clothes, surrounded by sweaty people. Like in the New York subway in summer during rush hour and somehow I’m wearing a wool sweater with nothing underneath.
Raph makes methislevel of uncomfortable. Which is a lot.
I sit and go back to my documents, writing quickly and keeping an eye on the wall clock.
But of course, I’m cursed and Raphael plants himself in front of my desk, two minutes before I can officially close my folder and meet Nate.
