Luke:
Two days.
That’s how long it’s been.
Forty-eight f*****g hours, and I still taste her on my tongue.
Her lips didn’t just touch mine, they invaded my senses. They laid claim to me. Set fire to every promise I ever made to myself.
And now, I can’t think straight.
Not here. Not at this desk. Not while the precinct buzzes around me like everything’s normal.
It isn’t.
It hasn’t been since her.
I was staring at the same goddamn file for twenty minutes.
Same lines. Same grainy photos. One of the MCs we’ve been keeping tabs on, Midnight Murders or Forgotten Phantoms or some other d**k-swinging name that tried too hard. Doesn’t matter. I couldn’t focus on their history of smuggling or the intel that supposedly mattered.
All I could see was her.
Alex.
Leaning back on that beat-up
