Girl Next Door - The Complete Series (31 page)

An hour later, the officer had taken my statement, Troy’s statement, and pictures of the damage to my car. I had called the after-hours number for my insurance company and was expecting a call first thing tomorrow morning about the adjuster coming out to take pictures. Also, I wouldn’t be able to get my rental until tomorrow either. I put in a call to the school and left a message that I would be out for the day. I hated to miss a day, but I didn’t have much choice. I didn’t have four new tires, nor did I really want to drive to work in a car that had the word
whore
scrawled on the side.

Troy shook the officer’s hand before he left. I thanked him. It was almost nine-thirty at night now, and I was ravenous. I started to head into my house, when Troy snagged the back of my shirt.

“Wait just a minute,” he said.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Um, no. It’s almost ten at night. I’m starving. If you have something to say, it can wait until tomorrow.”

He shook his head. I jerked my shirt out of his grip.

“Tough shit. I can’t deal with you now. I want to eat Chinese food, drink too much wine, and go to bed.”

He sighed and put an arm around my shoulders. “Okay, I’ll talk while you eat. Maybe if you have something to put in your mouth, you’ll keep quiet and listen to what I have to say.”

Troy grunted and stumbled a little when my elbow connected with his ribs. He also grinned. I sighed in disgust. How did I always get the ones who thought my anger was cute? An errant thought made me stumble. Troy was reacting to my irritation the way Aidan and Patrick reacted to Cat and Nat when they were aggravated. Like it was adorable and they enjoyed it.

Grabbing my arm to keep me from falling, Troy looked at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. Was it possible that I had misjudged him?

Once we were inside, I went to the fridge and pulled out the Chinese food. I glanced at Troy, who was leaning against my kitchen counters, watching me.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I have plenty if you’d like some.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I could eat.”

Feeling uncomfortable with his stare, I put the first container in the microwave. I pulled a beer out of the fridge.

“Would you like a beer?” I asked.

He nodded.

I popped the top on the beer and handed it to him. Since I had consumed quite a bit of Rumchata earlier in the day, I decided to forgo any more alcohol, even though I really needed a drink. I took my filtered water pitcher out of the fridge and poured myself a large glass.

I started rotating the containers into the microwave.

Attempting to sound casual, I asked, “So what did you want to talk about?”

Troy took a swig of his beer and set it on the counter. “First thing. You need to be careful. This is the third time in two days that you have had someone on your property causing mischief.”

I started setting the table and shot him a look. “Seriously, Troy, I’m sure it’s just teenagers.”

He shook his head. “What teenager in their right mind would return to the scene of the crime not once, but twice after the first prank? Also the pranks are getting nastier. First it was eggs, then dog shit, then they keyed the hell out of your car. That’s an escalation of behavior and it’s a bad sign. Especially since it is over the course of two days.”

Troy had a point, but I couldn’t imagine why anyone else would want to play stupid, juvenile practical jokes. Okay, so the words scratched into my car didn’t feel like a practical joke. That seemed more like something a woman would do to her husband or boyfriend after he had wronged her. But I’d be damned before I admitted it to him.

“Fine. I’ll keep my eyes open.”

I brought the food to the table and gestured for Troy to sit. He sauntered over and settled into a chair, bringing his beer with him.

“There’s something else we need to discuss,” Troy said.

I had a bad feeling about the turn our conversation was taking. I didn’t say anything. I waited to see what he had to say.

“Where in the hell did you get the idea that I smoked pot?” he asked incredulously. “And if you honestly thought that, why didn’t you call the landlord and tell him what was happening?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes as I started spooning rice and kung pao chicken onto my plate. “Um, I’ve only smelled pot a few times since you moved in and I figured you were only an occasional toker. As long as you weren’t running a crack den or having wild parties, I didn’t plan to complain.”

Troy stared at me like I was crazy. “You weren’t going to say anything? You need a reality check, woman. You think your neighbors are using drugs, you call the cops.”

“They legalized pot in Colorado. Texas may not be next, but I figure it’s only a matter of time before the other states follow suit,” I said.

“We’re not in fucking Colorado!”

I stared at him wide-eyed. “There’s no need to shout, Troy. I am allowed to disagree with you, you know.”

He just looked at me as though I were a new life form that needed further study before it was loosed on society. I ignored him and ate my food. I came from a family of five kids. I was used to people disagreeing with me, sometimes quite vigorously, so his attitude didn’t faze me in the least.

“Okay, let’s talk about something else. Why do you think I’m playing games with you?”

The spicy chicken in my mouth turned into flavorless paste. I really didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t understand why Troy didn’t let it go. He had plenty of female company, he didn’t need me.

“I don’t know if I can explain it,” I hedged.

Troy’s hand smacked the table. “Don’t lie. Tell me why.”

I really didn’t understand why this was so important to him, but now I was pissed off too. He had no right to talk to me that way or demand to know my thoughts.

“Because that’s what men like you do! They play fucking games!” I exclaimed.

“Men like me?”

His voice was dangerously soft, but I was too upset to notice or even care.

“Good looking men who change out their women as often as they change their underwear! You think all you have to do is crook your finger, and I’ll fall all over myself for you. Let you treat me like shit and keep coming back for more. I’ve had enough of those kinds of games. Too many times I’ve had my heart stomped all over and broken. I want a man that will cherish me and treat me with respect, not fuck me and then be two steps out the door before the condom comes off.”

I finished my tirade, my chest heaving.

Troy studied me with unreadable eyes. “And why do you think I’m that type of man?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to ask me that?” I ticked things off on my fingers. “Just in the last five weeks, I’ve heard you come home with four different women. That’s not counting any others you may have visited in that time. Past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior, Troy. Why would I believe differently?”

A dark red flush swept up his neck and face. I knew my point had been made.

That’s why his next words shocked me.

“Until five weeks ago, I hadn’t had sex with anyone in six months. I just finished an extremely stressful undercover op in conjunction with the DEA and I needed to blow off some steam. Those women are friends of mine. When they’re single, and I’m single, we hook up if both of us are interested. We keep it platonic any other time.”

I managed to fight back the sneer that wanted to spread across my face. I didn’t understand the idea of having sex just for sex’s sake. Maybe it was my strict religious upbringing, but I didn’t get the whole ‘let’s scratch an itch’ thing.

Despite my attempts to keep my thoughts to myself, Troy saw my aversion to his sexual activities.

“Surely you’re not that uptight?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I understand that there are people who are comfortable with that kind of arrangement, and I would never bash someone for deciding to carry on a strictly ‘friends with benefits’ relationship. Still, it’s not for me. I’m not built that way.”

I didn’t add that the only woman I knew who actually attempted to be friends with benefits was now married to the ‘friend’. That didn’t do a lot to dissuade a woman from thinking that one day the man they were screwing would wake up with the idea that they couldn’t live without her. I had been that woman without realizing it. My last ex considered me his fuck buddy, and I never caught on until he flat-out refused to introduce me to his parents because he didn’t want his mom getting ideas. However, it hadn’t been my fault I didn’t realize it. My ex treated me pretty well. When I told him I felt like we weren’t close, that he kept parts of himself from me, he had laughed in my face and explained that we weren’t ‘like that’.

Troy nodded. “I understand.”

I sighed. “I’m glad you understand and agree. I think it’s best if we forget about what happened last night.”

“Now, I don’t agree with that,” he stated.

I choked on the water I was sipping. “What? Why not?” I asked between coughs.

“Because sex is not the only thing I want from you.”

I gaped at him. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Troy finished off his beer and set it down on the kitchen table with a snap that made me twitch. God, I was on pins and needles around him.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I know that I wouldn’t be satisfied with just fucking you. I’ve never met another woman like you, and I want to know more.”

He picked up his fork and took a huge bite of beef lo mein.

It took me a second to find my voice, but when I did, I wasn’t feeling friendly. What in the hell? Did he think he could decide he was interested in getting to know me, and I would just accept that and go along? Judging from the calm way he was digging into his food, I guessed that was exactly what he thought.

“Did you think for a moment that I don’t want to get to know you?” I asked archly.

Troy just looked at me and continued to eat. Okay, so maybe I couldn’t hide the fact that I was attracted to him. Still, I resented how easily he seemed to think I could be won. I wanted a man who was willing to work to win me.

He said he didn’t play games. I told him I didn’t want to play games. Well, I changed my mind. I might not be able to resist him completely, but I wouldn’t make it easy for him. The name of my game was Hard to Get, and I wanted to see just how many hoops Troy would jump through to get what he wanted.

When he looked back up at me, I merely smiled. Game on, Troyboy.

Two days later I was beginning to question my sanity.

The night that Troy stayed for Chinese food, he insisted on getting my phone number. I tried to resist, but he threatened to call the landlord and get it that way. Now that I knew he was a cop, I knew Davis would give him my number, so I relented. He also wanted to stay and
hang out
. Those were his exact words. I didn’t trust him completely so I managed to get rid of him after we ate.

One point for me. One point for Troy. We were tied.

Unfortunately, Troy won the next point. The next morning the insurance adjuster showed up to check out the damage to my car and take photos. He came over while I was outside with her. After the adjuster finished up and gave me the information about how to get a rental car, she left.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Troy asked.

I shook my head.

“Why don’t we go eat together? I can follow you to the body shop when you drop off your car and take you to the rental car agency after we eat.”

Since it was Monday and all my friends and family were busy working, I agreed. I could have called an agency that delivered their rentals, but there was no telling how long I would have to wait. I didn’t like the idea of being without transportation.

That was how Troy managed to get my ass planted in the passenger seat of his 1969 Chevelle. His surprise when I went gaga over his vehicle must have been similar to my own when he recognized Wagner blasting out of my stereo. Then his expression turned satisfied, as though he had discovered something valuable.

He took me to Waffle House. I never would have admitted this to him, but it was one of my favorite places to have breakfast. I liked it more than IHOP or any other greasy spoon in the area. I was surprised to learn over breakfast that his mother had been a music teacher, hence his knowledge of opera and classical music. The same satisfied expression settled onto his face when I told him about my work as an accompanist and piano teacher. It dawned on me that he got that look whenever I did something he liked. He’d said the night before he wanted to know more about me. Well, he was learning. Probably too much.