Underneath the Peonies (Tom Hanson)

Chapter 2: Never Knew I Needed

Did you know that if you have a backpack and walk around a university like you belong, no one will kick you out? I didn't know that until I actually started doing it.

I don't technically attend Metropolitan University, but I love learning new things and I have nothing better to do with my time. It keeps me distracted. It's all the best of peaceful learning without the hassle of tuition, and no stress of homework or exams. I may not get a degree but I honestly won't need one. It's a win-win-win. 

I sat in the class I've been sneaking into all semester, waiting for the professor to begin lecturing when I glanced at the door and saw more students flooding in before the scheduled time. I had to do a double take when I saw Officer Hanson walk through the door too.

My eyes squinted at him, trying to figure out if it was really him, but as he got closer to my seat, there was no doubt in my mind. Even though his hair was striped of product and now it was handsomely brushed out and fluffy, I would recognize him anywhere.

What is he doing here?

Hanson settled in his seat, just a couple of rows in front of me. I don't think he realized I was there. Would he recognize me from the other night? I'm sure I'm not the only dumbass he has pulled over this week. There was no way I could not let him know.

I anxiously waited for the class to end so I could go up to him. As soon as we were dismissed, Tom began packing his notebooks but I was slightly faster. I silently followed him out to the hallway, and when I caught up to him, I tapped his shoulder.

Hanson turned around and his eyes grew wide and I saw his breath halt in his throat. He definitely recognized me. I hid my smirk by sassily asking, "so... is pulling people over just a side hustle for you?"

"Vivien," he gasped and pulled me aside. The fact that he remembered my name and my face brought all the blood into my head. He looked over his shoulder and adjusted his backpack before he said, "you didn't see me."

"But I do. You're right here," I said and looked him up and down.

"I'm here, but I'm not here."

"You might have to be a little more clear," I said, now I was slightly confused.

He sighed and said in a low voice, "so, you know I'm a cop..."

"Right. We established that last night. Remember? When you ticketed me?"

"I'm on an assignment. I... am under cover." He whispered the last word. I could barely hear him.

"Oh, like Beverly Hills Cop?" I asked.

He nodded. "Something like that. Please don't tell anyone."

I chuckled and said, "you gave me a speeding ticket last night. I think if I am to keep your secret... you'll have to take me out to dinner tonight."

He thought for a moment before he asked, "would you like me to pick you up, or do you want to pick me up with that convertible you stole last week?"

My blood drained from my face and my arms fell limp at my sides. I could have thrown up right then and there. How did he find out about that? When did he find out about that?"

His smile was cynical. "Yeah, I know about that."

"Why don't you pick me up?" I suggested without admitting that he was right.

"That's a good idea."

"Great," I said with a fake smile plastered across my features. I dropped my bag and pulled out a piece of paper and my pen so I could quickly write down my address for him. When I handed him the paper I said, "so, what do I call you?"