Old Flames

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Authors: Davi Rodriguez

BOOK: Old Flames
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I

 

T
HERE

S
something to be said for old flames. The memory of the one that got away and the happiness, however brief, that took over while the two of you were together always seemed to end in bitterness somehow. Then again, what did I know? I was just AJ Cooper, a random cop coming up with this shit while standing on Seventh Avenue in the middle of Times Square.

I let out a small sigh as I stared at the advertisement for my ex-boyfriend’s Broadway show displayed on a billboard attached to a building at the corner of Broadway and 46th Street. I couldn’t help but let bitterness rise up inside of me. The same bitterness that I felt every time I saw an ad for that show. Brad Meyers had left me five months ago when a casting director seemed to be interested in having him audition for a starring role in said Broadway musical. His excuse was that he wanted to focus on bettering his career. I hadn’t heard from him since.

Not that I really cared to. Or so I liked to think. Truth was, I missed him. He brought a certain peace, calmness, and joy to my life that I had yet to find in anybody else—though I wasn’t exactly looking for dates. No matter how rough my tour at work had been, Brad always managed to make it better when I arrived home, usually by way of a hug and a kiss.

At the same time, though, I knew he had burned me. We had been together for four years and yet he tossed me away just like that. It seemed that very little effort went into dumping me on his end. He just took me aside after my tour one day and told me that he had been given the opportunity of a lifetime. And that while he still cared about me and he was very sorry for what he was about to do, he was moving out to be on his own so he could focus entirely on his work and talent. He explained the whole thing as if he expected me to understand that he was just up and leaving.

Did I? Of course not. Who would? Like I said, we had shared four years together. Long enough for a solid bond to form and long enough for most couples to have given some serious discussion to marriage. And yet there I was, being dumped. Go figure. So here I am, still bitter five months after the fact. But could you blame me? “I’m dumping you after four years because I need to work on my talent for this casting director because this show could make my career” is a shit excuse if I ever heard one. Did he even
try
to make it work in his head before he made the decision to leave?

Shivering lightly from a cold burst of afternoon winter air, I took a light drag of lukewarm coffee from the Styrofoam cup in my hand and turned my attention to the various men, women, and children all making their way up and down my particular block of Seventh. I needed to focus on the reason I was in Times Square to begin with. My job wasn’t to reminisce about failed relationships, it was to protect and serve the people of New York.

Starting to walk amongst the crowd, I began to divide my attention between listening to the police radio at my left ear and scanning the crowd for pickpockets or other scumbags trying to prey on innocent people in the streets. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two other officers standing in front of the glass window making up part of the storefront of a Sunglasses Hut. Lifting my head in greeting, I gave them a brief, casual salute.

“Hey, Sarge!” One of them called out to me in acknowledgment, his nameplate identifying him as “A. Monteiro.” Alex Monteiro, one of Jess Landon’s kids out of the Tenth Precinct. He was covering for one of my guys who was out sick with the flu.

I was just about to take another sip of my coffee when I felt something ice cold hit the top of my back rather hard, just under my neck, and break into pieces, a few of which lodged into my neckline. The sudden impact startled me into dropping my coffee and caused me to grunt loudly and quickly turn around to see what had happened.

“Sarge?” The other officer called out in alarm as they both began to approach. I held up a hand to stop them as soon as I found myself standing face to face with my ex, who was laughing at the entire situation.

“It’s fine, guys,” I said as I looked over to them with a reassuring expression in hopes that they’d back off and keep watching the crowd while I talked to Brad. They both nodded before turning around and walking back to the storefront. Looking back over to Brad, I quickly found myself overtaken by how attractive I found him. Even dressed in old jeans, a black peacoat, a fluffy scarf, and a beanie, he was still a sight to behold.

Or maybe that was just the part of me that refused to let me stay mad at him for dumping me for no good reason. It was like seeing him in person set aside all of the bitterness and the pain of being dumped so suddenly and quickly, and replaced it with relief that he was okay and longing to be with him again. There was no sadness or anger or bitterness left in me. Just longing for what used to be and a wish that I might be able to make it happen again. Maybe it was the part of me that still loved him.

Bad brain
.

“Gotcha good, didn’t I?” Brad asked with a chuckle and a smirk, almost as if the past four months hadn’t happened.

“You got me with an ice ball,” I replied matter-of-factly as I reached a gloved hand around to brush the rapidly melting ice out of my collar before it tried to take a trip down my back. While I couldn’t stay mad at Brad for dumping me, I still, rather ironically, had the capacity to be irritated for the ice ball.

“Yeah, well, at least it wasn’t a sharp one.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whaddya want?” I asked testily as I looked at Brad with minor irritation. He should have known better than to sneak up on a cop like that.

“To say hi,” Brad replied, his happy expression seeming to dim a bit at my attitude.

“Hi.”

“What is your problem?” Brad finally snapped, causing me to look square into his eyes.

“Maybe it’s ’cause you dumped me five months ago and are trying to act like that never happened? And cause you threw
an ice ball
at me?”

Brad nodded solemnly, seeming to understand why I seemed testy. To be honest, it was mostly a front, I was still in love with him—him calling us off blindsided me big time. Though I will admit, the ice ball kind of pissed me off a little. Truth be told, I really missed us and the four years we had shared together. Hell, the longevity of our relationship was one of the reasons I was stunned when he just up and left.

“Maybe,” Brad began, offering me a weak smile as somebody bumped into him, his hand immediately going to his pocket and a small relieved sigh playing in his chest when he found that his wallet was still in there. “Maybe I regret dumping you.”

“Look, Brad,” I began quietly, my heart doing backflips in my chest as my brain tried to think logically. Truth be told, I really wanted a second chance at what we had once shared. The past five months had been rather lonely and monotonous. Yeah, I still took care of errands and hung out at O’Lunney’s with some of the other officers of Midtown North, but there was always a part of me which felt lonelier without Brad around. “As touching as that is, I’m on duty and I need to get back to work. So. Rain check?”

“Central Park. The pond. Tomorrow after your shift. See you then.” Brad offered me a small smile before edging around me, picking up the remains of my coffee, and walking down Seventh. I turned and watched, my heart squealing while my brain tried its best to reassert control and remind me that he had dumped me for no reason and that I shouldn’t trust him that easily afterwards. I ignored both and made my way over to the two officers who were now having their picture taken with one of the tourists

“Hams,” I said with a smirk as I walked up. One of the tourists noticed my stripes and almost immediately gathered his small herd and rushed off. I watched with amusement as the group carefully scurried back into the crowd and disappeared once more.

Only in New York.

II

 

A
PPROACHING
the Columbus Circle entrance to Central Park, I couldn’t help but notice how much more peaceful the park seemed when it was covered with a white blanket of December snow. Sure there were still lots of people and you could still hear the honking of the traffic back on the main streets, but something about the park put me at ease. Despite it being cold, I resisted the urge to buy a cup of coffee on my way into the park. It was one less thing I could spill on myself if Brad managed to sneak up on me again.

As soon as the duck pond was in sight, I began scanning the area, looking for Brad’s trademark pea coat, scarf, and beanie. I’d never forget any of them because they had all been gifts I had given him when we were together—he tended to go through scarves the fastest, always somehow getting them stained with all sorts of crap. Not spotting anybody who looked remotely like Brad by the pond, I began to search the rest of the area around me, slowly smirking as I spotted him on his cell phone, completely oblivious to the outside world.

Pulling on the cords to tighten my backpack straps, I leaned over, picked up a handful of snow, and immediately began to pack it into a snowball. Walking around Brad, I grinned as I waited for him to finish his conversation and put his phone away.

And then I struck.

“Think fast!” I called out as I threw the snowball at Brad’s back, catching his attention and causing him to turn just as the snowball hit him.

“Hey!” He called out as he brushed himself off and glared at me momentarily until recognition caused his expression to lighten. “AJ?”

“Who else?”

“What was that for?”

“Payback.”

“Oh, I’ll show you payback!” Brad retorted as he bent over and began to pack a snowball of his own.

“I’d like to see you try!” I called out as I grabbed a handful of snow and began to run around Brad, my boots clomping against the frozen groundcover. Brad called something out, but I only seemed to be paying attention to the snowball he was preparing to throw at me. Quickly I began to do a series of serpentine movements in an attempt to throw him off, slowing just enough to coax him into throwing. When he did, I swung in the opposite direction, trying to avoid being hit.

“You missed!” I called out as the snowball sailed past me by mere inches.

“Oh come on, that’s not fair!” Brad protested just as I pelted a snowball at his body.

“I’m a cop, since when do I fight fair?” I called back with a hearty laugh as he tried to dodge the snowball, only to get hit in the shoulder. The two of us exchanged warm smiles and, very quickly, I began to notice just how right this felt. To be perfectly honest, it felt like we had never broken up. I felt full once more and quickly found myself wishing that this one moment we were sharing would never end, if only to avoid having to face the possibility that he may not want to get back together. Because if there was anything I knew about Brad Meyers, it was that he could be a very indecisive person.

And so it went for the better part of a half hour, the two of us running around our little corner of Central Park—yes, we claimed it as ours, since most of the tourists tried to avoid us because they didn’t want to get snowballed. Laughs were had, snowballs were thrown, and smiles were, well, smiled. In fact, the whole thing didn’t end until Brad slipped on a patch of ice and landed flat on his ass, causing me to burst out laughing as I walked over to help him up.

“You okay?” I asked as I tried to contain myself, Brad’s glare only making me laugh harder.

“Just fine,” Brad replied sarcastically, taking my hand and pulling himself up. Once he was upright, he began to brush the snow off of his ass with a gloved hand. “A little cold, though.”

I chuckled before motioning with my head towards Columbus Circle. “I saw a hot chocolate and chestnut vendor over near Columbus,” I offered, not telling Brad that I’d be more than happy to treat him. I guess some old habits really do die hard.

“Sounds good to me,” Brad replied with a small grin. I simply nodded before beginning the trek across the park once more, Brad falling into line with me. We spent most of the walk in silence, seeming to enjoy each other’s presence. Without even speaking to Brad, I could tell that he was happy to see me again, his body language noticeably more relaxed and upbeat than it was yesterday when I went all grouchy cop on him.

“So… How’s your show going?” I asked in an attempt to make some small talk as we walked out of the park and onto the sidewalk surrounding Columbus Circle.

“It’s going,” Brad replied with a shrug, causing me to quirk an eyebrow as I approached a vendor, ordered two hot chocolates and a bag of chestnuts, and pulled out my wallet.

“It’s playing at the Imperial right?” I asked while fishing through my wallet for the eight bucks I needed to pay for everything.

“Yeah.”

“You enjoying it?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” I asked, somewhat confused as I took the two hot chocolates, handing one to Brad before taking the bag of chestnuts and offering the bag to Brad.

“Maybe I’m not having as much fun as I thought,” he said as he took the bag, popped a chestnut into his mouth, and began to chew before turning and walking back into Central Park.

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