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The puzzle lay abandoned on the coffee table, a mostly finished outline and a few scattered clusters of like-colors. Neither Lucy nor Tim had touched it in the past several minutes.
Lucy had settled on the far end of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, her body angled toward the middle. Tim wasn’t on the opposite end, but he wasn’t exactly next to her either. Still, the distance between them had been shrinking, little by little. Tim’s arm rested along the back of the couch, fingers just grazing the edge of Lucy’s shoulder closest to him.
“I could go for a movie,” Lucy said casually, eyes glancing toward the TV.
Tim arched a brow. “You sure that’s a good idea? Last time we ‘watched a movie,’ you made it about five minutes in before climbing me like a tree.”
Lucy let out an embarrassed laugh, smacking his arm. “That is not how it happened.”
“You kissed me first,” he pointed out, grinning.
“You kissed me back.”
“And then you panicked.”
Lucy shot him a look, equal parts humiliation and amusement. “Yeah, well. I’m not planning on running this time.”
Tim’s smile softened. “Good to know.”
They held each other’s gaze for a beat longer before Lucy broke it, nudging her chin toward the remote. “Just pick something.”
Tim chuckled, picking up the remote and scrolling until he landed on something light —a nature documentary with sweeping aerial shots and a British narrator.
The flicker of the television danced across their faces as silence stretched between them, not heavy, but comfortable.
He glanced at her after a while. She was half-watching, half-lost in thought, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair loose around her face. She looked completely at home.
“Hey,” Tim started, hesitantly.
Lucy turned to him. “Hmm?”
“I just wanted you to know… there’s no pressure. If you want to head home, I’ll take you. No questions asked.”
She looked at him, eyes unreadable for a moment. Then, softly, “I know. But I don’t want to go. Not yet.”
Tim exhaled, the tension in his chest loosening. A silence settled over them again, but it was heavier now. Charged. Like the air between two magnets drawing closer.
Their eyes stayed locked. Her gaze dipped to his lips for just a second. He noticed. Tim thought about leaning in, just a fraction…
But Kojo suddenly launched himself onto the couch between them, tail wagging furiously, nose immediately nuzzling Lucy’s side. He whined once and then barked— hopeful, expectant.
Lucy startled, laughing as Kojo nuzzled her side.
Tim groaned, letting his head fall back. “You’ve got amazing timing, buddy.”
Kojo barked again, tail wagging like he hadn’t just ruined something important.
Lucy scratched behind Kojo’s ears. “I think someone wants his walk.”
Tim looked at her, the moment still humming faintly between them. “You up for it?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Why not? That sounds nice.”
They both stood slowly, brushing hands as they moved past each other toward the door. Kojo bounded after them, clearly proud of himself.
~
Celina sat cross-legged on the couch in the apartment she shared with Lucy, scrolling halfheartedly through her phone. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Lucy’s bedroom door remained shut, untouched since the night before.
Angela had texted her earlier, checking in.
Angela Lopez
Have you heard from Lucy?
Celina had responded honestly.
Celina Juarez
Only to let me know she’s safe.
She didn’t come home last night.
That had clearly lit a spark in Angela, because her next message came less than a minute later.
Angela Lopez
Tim’s ignoring me.
Maybe Operation Friendly Fire actually hit its target.
Celina groaned aloud, flopping back against the cushion.
Celina Juarez
If it did work, it’s in spite of us.
I’m officially out of the meddling business.
I don’t know how you do it.
No response came right away. Celina thought that was the end of it until about ninety minutes later, when her phone buzzed again.
Angela Lopez
Just left Tim’s.
Still brooding. Said he went home alone. Didn’t see Lucy after she left...
I don’t totally believe him.
You sure you don’t know where she is?
Celina rolled her eyes.
Celina Juarez
Nope.
And I'm staying out of it.
I like being friends with my roomie.
Angela Lopez
Fine. I work better solo anyway.
Celina tossed her phone onto the coffee table and exhaled.
She wanted to trust that Lucy was okay— Lucy had said she was. But something still tugged at her. A gnawing, restless edge she couldn’t shake. Not just guilt. Instinct.
Where would Lucy have gone?
Maybe she got a hotel room. Or stayed with a friend? …But which friend? Most of them had been at the fundraiser. The only person not in on the ambush who had been there was Genny. But Celina had dropped her off, and she hadn’t even seen a hint of Lucy. She wouldn’t have gone to Nolan’s, would she?
Celina sat up straighter, her stomach knotting slightly.
Then she remembered. She and Lucy had turned on location sharing when they became roommates. She reached for her phone again, pulling up Find My Friends.
One blue dot. Moving slightly. Not at Nolan’s. Not at Genny’s. Not at the hotel. Nowhere she immediately recognized.
But it looked to be about thirty minutes from Mid-Wilshire. Someone familiar, then. Someone Lucy had reason to trust. Her brow furrowed as she zoomed in closer. It couldn’t be. Could it?
Her fingers hovered for a second before she opened a new message to Angela.
Celina Juarez
Just… out of curiosity…
Where does Tim live?
~
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees as Tim and Lucy strolled down the sidewalk in Tim’s neighborhood, Kojo trotting happily ahead on his leash. Tim held it loosely in one hand, his other accidentally brushing against Lucy’s every few steps as their arms swung beside them.
They’d started with light conversation— comments about the beautiful weather, jokes about Kojo being the most emotionally stable of the three of them. Lucy had laughed easily, her shoulders visibly lighter than the night before.
Now, a comfortable quiet settled between them. Their footfalls were steady. The only sounds were birds, a distant lawn mower, and Kojo’s paws tapping the pavement. As the silence stretched, it turned more reflective.
Tim glanced sideways. “You doing okay?”
Lucy nodded, gaze forward. “Still unpacking everything, I guess. The ambush. Celina. Angela. Aaron. It’s a lot.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”
They walked another few steps in silence.
“When I first saw you last night… before I realized Claire was with you…”
Tim looked over, curious.
She hesitated, her cheeks already turning pink. “I kind of forgot how to breathe too.”
He looked at her, surprised.
Lucy flushed. “You looked... frustratingly good. It was annoying.”
Tim grinned. “Annoying?”
“Yes,” she insisted, smiling despite herself.
Their hands brushed again—soft, fleeting.
They turned the corner, Kojo trotting happily ahead as the leash tugged gently in Tim’s hand.
“So…” Lucy started, nudging him lightly with her shoulder, “speaking of Claire…you two looked pretty cozy last night.” She was aiming for casual. But the edge was there. Vulnerable.
Tim glanced over, a teasing spark in his eyes. “Cozy?”
She gave a shrug, trying to keep her voice even. “Yeah. That’s kind of why I thought… y’know. That you two were together.”
He smirked. “Were you jealous?”
She glared at him, which only made him laugh.
“If you must know, we were talking about the silent auction,” he said, voice light. “And about how I’m still not over my ex.”
Lucy raised a brow. “She must’ve really done a number on you.”
He looked at her, gaze soft. “You have no idea.”
Her breath stilled.
Tim paused, still locking his eyes with hers. “You were the most beautiful woman in that ballroom, Lucy. No one else even came close.”
Lucy looked away, biting down a smile, cheeks flushed.
Their hands brushed again— just enough to make it impossible to ignore. Lucy let out a soft breath, then gently slipped her fingers between his.
Tim looked down at their hands, heart full. He gave her hand a light squeeze.
They kept walking, hand in hand, Kojo leading the way down the sun-warmed street.
~
Tim closed the front door behind them as they returned from their walk. He glanced toward Lucy. “Hey,” he said gently. “I promise I’m not trying to get rid of you. But…do you want me to take you home soon?”
Lucy paused in the middle of toeing off her shoes, then looked up at him. Her gaze searched his, something unspoken lingering in the space between them. “My shift tomorrow doesn’t start until noon,” she said slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So… if it’s okay with you, I’d rather stay.”
Tim tried not to smile too big but failed. “It’s more than okay.”
She smiled back, something soft settling in her expression. “Okay. Good.”
He cleared his throat, trying to keep it casual. “So… dinner? Can I make you something?”
“Only if I’m allowed to help.”
“Deal.”
They made their way into the kitchen, bumping shoulders as they moved. Tim scanned the fridge, pulled out ingredients, his brows furrowed in that way she remembered from patrolling together— focused and intense, but also adorable. Lucy leaned against the counter for a moment, just watching him, before eventually moving to help him.
They fell into a rhythm easily. Lucy chopped. Tim stirred. They bumped hips more than necessary in the narrow kitchen, and neither of them minded. His hand grazed her lower back when he reached for a pan behind her. Her arm brushed his when she reached for a spice jar.
At one point, Lucy was at the counter chopping fresh basil when Tim moved behind her, his chest up against her back. He was reaching into the cabinet above her.
“Sorry, I just need to grab…”
She nodded as if she wasn’t affected. That she couldn’t feel the heat of him or the way the air seemed to thicken around them. She made no attempt to move.
Tim stepped back with the plates he grabbed and returned to the stove, giving the pot another stir. “You trust me enough to taste test?” he asked, holding up a spoon to her lips. Steam curled between them as he offered it out.
Lucy leaned in, lips parting as she took the spoon into her mouth. The moment lingered— her eyes on his, the silence stretching long after she’d swallowed.
“That’s…” she started, voice quiet, “pretty good.”
He didn’t look away. “Yeah?”
She nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact.
The kitchen was quiet around them, save for the faint simmer of the stove. Her fingers brushed the edge of the counter. His free hand had at some point moved to lightly rest on her hip, not pushing— just present.
Tim’s gaze flicked from her eyes to her mouth, then back again.
Tim swallowed. His voice was low, careful. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
Lucy didn’t say anything. She just nodded— small, sure, and a little breathless. Her eyes searched his, steady and open, like she was trusting him with more than just a kiss.
Tim put down the spoon, moving his hand to cup her cheek, thumb brushing her cheekbone. His other hand remained on her hip, fingers brushing the fabric of the hoodie she still wore. He leaned in slowly, giving her every second to change her mind. She didn’t.
His lips met hers in the softest, sweetest kiss, gentle and loving, like a promise wrapped in silence. He kept the contact light, delicate. Careful not to push.
He started to pull away, unsure of where the line was, but Lucy moved with him, chasing the kiss, her hand rising to the back of his neck as she deepened it.
Tim froze for a half-second, hesitating— and then he melted into her.
The kiss shifted, slow but charged. His fingers pressed a little firmer on her hip. Her body curved toward his. The air around them crackled with something they’d both been holding back for far too long. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck as he matched her pace.
There was nothing rushed. Nothing uncertain. Just the soft slide of lips and breath and a quiet intensity that made the world fall away.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads stayed pressed together, eyes still closed, neither ready to let go of the moment.
Lucy exhaled, the sound catching in her throat. “See,” she whispered, voice shaky but sure. “I didn’t run.”
Tim gave a small chuckle, “I see that.” They opened their eyes, still just inches apart, their gaze locking in a stare that burned with everything unspoken. The air between them vibrated—too much, too soon, too tempting. Tim could feel it pulling at him, but he didn’t want to rush anything. Not with her. Not this time.
He cleared his throat and gently eased back, eyes dropping as he took a step away. “We should probably… eat.”
Lucy offered a shy, almost bashful smile. “Yeah. Can’t let your cooking go to waste.” Though truthfully, she wouldn’t have minded if they had.
Tim smiled in return and reached for the plates he’d set aside earlier. They worked quietly for a moment, setting the table together, easily falling into rhythm again.
Once they were seated across from each other, Kojo sprawled under the table, Lucy took a bite and immediately closed her eyes. “Okay, this is unfair. Why are you good at everything?”
Tim tilted his head, pleased. “It’s really just salt and butter doing the heavy lifting.”
“Still.” She gestured with her fork. “This is amazing. I might keep asking you to cook for me.”
He tried to keep his voice casual. “I wouldn’t mind that.”
A quiet settled between them as they ate, but it wasn’t awkward. Just full. Comforting. The kind of silence that comes from knowing you don’t have to fill every space with words.
A little bit later, dinner plates sat forgotten on the table, forks pushed aside, their conversation winding easily between stories and soft laughter.
Tim stood and walked to the small wine rack near the counter. “Feel like a glass of wine?”
Lucy looked up at him with a smirk. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He poured them each a glass and sat back down across from her, sliding hers over. They clinked glasses, quiet and careful, as if trying not to disturb the fragile peace between them.
They sipped and talked, time slipping by in quiet increments. At some point, the bottle ran dry. Tim tilted it upside down with a mild frown. “Well, that’s tragic.”
Lucy gave him a half-lidded look. “You got more, right?”
Tim raised an eyebrow. “You trying to get me drunk, Sergeant Chen?”
She grinned lazily. “I’m just trying to make up for all the drinks I missed when I left the gala early. Figured you’d want to help me catch up.”
He laughed, then stood and fetched another bottle, uncorking it with a practiced twist. They stayed at the table, shoulders slouched, posture relaxed. The conversation didn’t rush— it just wandered, mellow and open.
By the time they were halfway through the second bottle, Lucy had tucked one foot beneath her. Her elbow was resting on the table, chin cradled in her palm. Her eyes were warm and glassy, her walls softened by the buzz.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, voice a little quieter.
Tim looked up.
She hesitated just a second, then met his gaze. “Can we talk about it? About why we broke up?”
Tim looked at her, something tender settling in his eyes, fondness he wasn’t bothering to hide anymore. “You always did want to have deep and meaningful conversions after a couple glasses of wine,” he teased gently.
She shot him a look— half amused, half serious.
Tim set his glass down, the mood softening. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We can.”
Lucy searched his eyes, getting straight to the point. “Why did you do it?”
Tim exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing the side of his glass. “Because I was punishing myself.”
Lucy blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability. She didn’t interrupt.
“I didn’t know how to reconcile the man I thought I was, the man I actually am, and the incredible woman you are.” Tim said, voice low. “And growing up, I was always punished for not measuring up to expectations. So without my dad around to punish me, I had to punish myself.”
She nodded slowly, lips parted, letting it sink in.
“I told myself I was doing you a favor,” he added, bitter at the memory. “That if we stayed together, I would ruin you too. I convinced myself I didn’t deserve to be loved and you could find someone better. More worthy.”
“And now?”
“I realize I punished you too,” he said quietly. “That’s the part I’ll always regret.”
A long beat passed. Then Lucy’s voice, soft. “You broke my heart.” She looked down at her wine glass, swirling what remained. “For a long time, I kept asking myself what I did wrong. Why you wouldn’t let me have a say in any of it— why you decided for both of us.” Her eyes stayed down, the words slow and careful. “I figured I must not have meant as much to you as you did to me. That’s how it felt. Especially at the station. You acted like… like none of it ever happened.”
Tim’s expression cracked at her words, something raw flickering in his eyes. “I know,” he said quietly. “I think we’ve already established I’m an idiot.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite land. “I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling, so I shut it down. Pretended it didn’t exist. But you didn’t do anything wrong, Lucy. I loved you.” His voice dropped. “I still do. That’s never changed.”
She looked up, eyes glassy, the wine lending her the courage to ask, “Then why are we having this conversation three years later? Why did it take you so long to come back to me?”
He gave a small, sad smile. “Because I’m a coward. And when Grey made me transfer, it was easier to avoid everything, especially you. I didn’t have to see you every day and remember everything I threw away.”
Lucy studied him, heart thudding softly in her chest. Then, without a word, she reached across the table and slid her hand into his. Their fingers laced together without a word.
Tim glanced down at their joined hands, then met her gaze again. “Running into you at the restaurant… it was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. But it also scared the hell out of me.”
Lucy’s brows lifted slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.
“You looked right through me. Like I was just some guy you used to know.” He let out a breath. “And for a second, I thought maybe you’d really moved on. That I’d lost my chance for good.” His voice softened. “And that’s when it hit me— how badly I wanted you back in my life. How much I still loved you. I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”
Lucy let out a quiet scoff, shaking her head. “You have no idea how much you rattled me.”
He blinked, surprised.
“I played it cool but seeing you… it wrecked me.” Her voice softened. “And as much as it threw me off… that night? It was one of the best things to happen to me in a long time too.”
Tim raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a grin. “Better than making sergeant?”
Lucy gave him a dry look, but the corner of her mouth curved. “I said one of the best things. Don’t press your luck.”
He chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing, his thumb brushing gently along the back of her hand. “Still. I’ll take it.”
They lingered at the table a little longer, the last few sips of wine stretching between them. Lucy’s eyes sparkled.
She yawned dramatically, arms stretching overhead as she rose from her chair. The hoodie shifted on her frame, pulling slightly. “Alright. Enough brooding. I think it’s bedtime.”
Tim smiled behind the rim of his glass. “Yeah? You tired?”
“Mm.” Lucy pushed her chair back slowly. “Something like that,” she said, voice innocent but eyes anything but.
Tim tried not to read into it. “Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll clean up in here.”
She stood, trailing a hand across the table as she moved past him, close enough that he caught the faintest trace of her scent— warm and citrusy. “Don’t take too long,” she said lightly, and then disappeared down the hall.
Tim let out a long breath and busied himself cleaning up the dishes. He let Kojo out into the yard, then wiped down the counters, moving on autopilot— anything to keep busy. But it didn’t work. Not with the image of Lucy in his hoodie still playing on a loop in his mind. The way she’d looked walking down the hallway. The curve of her smile. The softness in her eyes. It all clung to him like gravity, pulling him back toward her with every step.
Eventually, he turned off the lights and made his way to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway.
Lucy was already in bed, nestled beneath the comforter like she belonged there. Her gaze met his as he entered. Calm, steady, with a glint that had nothing to do with wine and everything to do with intent.
Tim moved to his dresser, trying to focus. To breathe. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper. He reached for the waistband of his sweats but stopped when his eyes landed on the hoodie sitting neatly on top of the dresser.
His hoodie. The one Lucy had been wearing.
Behind him, Lucy’s voice came low and sultry. “I’ve now officially returned your hoodie.”
Tim turned, slowly. His eyes dropped to the bed, catching the way the comforter dipped just slightly beneath her collarbone. How her shoulders were fully bare. How she wasn’t just lying there. She was waiting.
And suddenly it hit him. She was naked. His breath caught in his throat.
“Lucy…” he said, voice low and hoarse. A warning. A plea.
But she just looked at him, eyes steady, fingers toying lazily with the edge of the comforter, the invitation unspoken but undeniable. “You coming to bed?”
Tim’s restraint cracked, splintering in his chest.
In two quick strides, he was across the room, lifting the covers and slipping in beside her. The second his body hit the mattress, his mouth was on hers— urgent, aching. One hand cradled her jaw, the other sliding down her back, pulling her flush against him. The realization that she was truly bare beneath the sheets sent heat flooding through him, every inch of restraint evaporating.
Lucy kissed him back with the kind of fire that only comes after years of longing. She hooked her leg over his hip, and he groaned softly against her mouth, every inch of him aware of her, of this.
She’d waited long enough.
So had he.
And this time, there were no doubts. No apologies. No more running.