The Detective and Her Bachelor

Chapter 32

Decker was mad. I could feel it from miles away. A buzz of fury in my ear like an angry wasp, itching to sting. It made me drive my motorcycle a little slower as I wove in and out of traffic, heading towards the mansion and my impending doom. 

It didn't matter that I dove head first into HIS ridiculous plan to put me undercover on a terrifying show about lies and feelings, pretending to understand the world of falling in love while being watched by dozens of cameras at a time. Or had uncovered pieces of the Walker Family's past that would prove very useful in finding the truth. Or managed to stay on the show even though I had punched the Single Stud in the face... although the result of that punch still hadn't technically been decided yet. 

I was beginning to think that I could have done everything right, and still found a way to piss Decker off. Because that was our pattern. It was a perpetual cycle of jumping through hoops only to get a glare that was supposed to be taken as a "well done," smile, something I was sick of. I got results, and he got angry about some random detail in how I got it done. 

There isn't just ONE right way to do things! the dragon inside screamed. And I was itching to staple a note of that very phrase to his forehead. Maybe then he would get the message that his way wasn't the only way. 

I tried to ignore Decker's disapproval, his growing silent judgment as I raced back to the mansion, ignoring the caravan of camera crew in the minivan's that followed. But it grew more difficult the closer we got to the final destination, tilting me towards recklessness. 

I could hear Decker's rage in the sharp, tone he used to usher me out of the skyscraper faster. In the sarcastic comments he kept interjecting whenever Andrew spoke during our trek back. In Decker's mutterings as they coated my ear, the opposite of sweet nothings one would hope to have whispered to them. Ah, what a lucky girl I am...

In short, Decker was livid and I had little patience for however I had bruised his ego this time. Which could only mean that I would end up looking like a lunatic when I finally got back, locked myself in the bathroom, and shouted at him over the roar of the shower, sounding like an unhinged, deranged moron who monologued to herself in the strangest way possible.

As I took a sharp turn and nearly threw Andrew off the back of the bike, I forced myself to breathe and slow down. "Sorry!" I shouted, embarrassed by how easily Decker rattled me.

"You'd think I'd be used to nearly getting pummeled to death in your presence by now!" Andrew shouted over the roar of the wind. I could hear the smile in his words and it settled me down slightly, anchoring me to the present, his arms wrapped around my waist, a tether to sanity as I raced headfirst into an incoming storm of pure Decker mood. 

As Andrew walked me to my bedroom door, his hand in mine, concern furrowed his brow, sensing my trepidation. I was one straw away from yanking the earpiece free and setting it on fire. I had tried to play off my change in mood as reluctance for our date to end... but by the way I dragged my feet, eyes darting to every potential exit we passed, it probably came off more like a "GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!" 

"Are you okay?" Andrew asked as we stopped before my closed door. 

The mansion was silent, the other contestants still out at whatever group plan the show had created for them, most likely involving a combination of glitz and drama. We were entirely alone... if you count a cameramen standing on either end of the hall, catching every moment of our conversation, as being alone.

I offered Andrew a small smile and cautiously reached my hand towards his face, fingers hovering lightly over the bruise covered in makeup. "How are you?" I asked softly, hating how easily I had hurt him, having forgotten for a split second that we had been playing a game. It made me wonder if this was a sign of what was to come.