Drew (Cerberus MC #15) - Marie James Page 0,1

the one to do that?”

He licks his lips before speaking again, and I swear he’s torturing me on purpose.

“Most people would just call me a cop, without specifying which department.”

“That’s silly. It’s on your patch.”

I’ve been trained to look at patches for years now. After my dad joined the Cerberus MC a couple of years ago, I’m constantly around people who have them on their clothing.

I toy with my fork, twisting the tines in the fluffy pancakes, trying to figure out a way to get our conversation back to his frisking comment and hating that we’ve gone so far off course.

“O’Neil,” he says, his hand reaching across the table.

“Megan,” I lie, placing my hand in his.

Using a fake name isn’t unusual to me. Dad taught me to be diligent, and the less people know about you, the harder it is for them to track you and hurt you.

Expecting him to shake it, he throws me off-kilter when he lifts my hand and presses warm lips to the back of it.

“Aren’t you charming,” I whisper as he lowers our hands.

“And you’re gorgeous.” He doesn’t release my hand, and I find it strange that it doesn’t feel at all weird to be holding the hand of a man I just met.

“Thank you.”

“Are you from around here, Megan?”

“Yes.” It’s not really a lie. Around here is subjective, and since I live in New Mexico, it’s mostly truthful. Besides, ask vague questions, and you’ll get vague answers.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” The waitress lingers even after placing the plate of pancakes in front of him, but he never pulls his eyes from me.

This man is good at what he’s doing. Does it make me a fool for falling for it?

People are supposed to have fun, have wild nights when they’re in college, right? I can’t help but wonder what a little time spent alone with this man would look like.

“Your food is going to get cold,” he says, releasing my hand so he can begin his own meal.

He groans with the first bite, and if I sounded anything like he just did, then I know why he approached me. The sound is pure sex, decadent sin and arousing.

He licks away the syrup on his lips before I can open my mouth to offer doing it for him, but the little wink he shoots my way tells me he knows the suggestion is there.

“H-How long have you been a police officer?” I manage only by focusing on the plate in front of me rather than his handsome face.

“Not long. Less than a year. I’m still doing my field training.” Like every other man I know, he shovels food in his mouth and still manages to grin while he chews.

“Where’s your partner then?”

“He’s working on a personal project right now,” he says after taking a sip of coffee. “What about you?”

“I’m not a cop.” I barely refrain from smacking my forehead at the stupid response. “I’m a college student.”

And if it weren’t for my best friend Sophia managing to get behind in her classes, I wouldn’t even be alone right now. We normally drive back home for spring break together, but she’s been delayed.

I don’t know if being alone right now is a good or bad thing.

“And your major?”

“Elementary education.” His smile grows, and I feel my own lips mirroring his. “Why the big smile?”

“Most of the guys I work with are married to teachers. It seems it’s like the American dream.”

“Police officers and teachers?” He nods. “I think people who are focused on helping others, although in much different capacities, are drawn to those same types of people.”

“I’m definitely drawn to you, Megan.”

I hate the sound of my fake name coming from his lips, but I’m committed to it and not going to confess now.

“What’s your first name, O’Neil?”

He shakes his head.

“Too personal?”

“Oh, I want to get personal with you.”

And an expert at avoidance. Figures.

“It was nice meeting you,” I say after wiping my mouth and pulling cash from my purse to leave on the table. “Be safe.”

He doesn’t try to stop me when I stand, and although he’s gorgeous and a protector, did I honestly think we’d have some type of love match?

His job is dangerous.

Cops are notorious, unfortunately, for cheating on their significant others.

This man won’t even tell me his first name.

All clear signs to cut my losses and get out of here.

The walk into the diner didn’t unnerve me at all, but leaving now that it’s dark outside makes me realize I parked