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Chapter 8 by micdan282 micdan282

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Casual Encounters

Devin stepped out of Officer Keely’s office with a practiced sigh. It wasn’t that she was bad at her job—just painfully by-the-book, all structure and no humanity. She double-checked every form, recited every protocol like a sermon, and treated him like someone she could never quite trust. It wasn’t like how it had been with Rikki. And she certainly didn’t look as good as Rikki.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as he made his way down the hallway, head down, his mind already drifting somewhere else—back to their nights together, the electricity between them, the way she used to look at him when he was inside her. She was still in this building. That much he knew. And yet she felt miles away.

As he reached the waiting area, the elevator dinged behind him. He heard the doors slide open and the click of heels on tile. He turned without thinking, just a glance.

Then froze.

The woman who stepped out wasn’t Rikki but she did look familiar.

Tall, stylish, blonde. Warm smile and playful eyes. She spotted him at the same time. Tilted her head.

“Well,” she said, lips curving with slow recognition, “Devin… right?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

“I thought so,” she said, stepping closer with a smile that was too charming to be casual. “I’ve seen your file. Kidding.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Laura. Rikki’s friend. Although you probably know her as Officer Drakeson.”

That explained it.

He took her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Laura studied him for a beat too long. “You just see Rikki?”

“Actually, she’s not my parole officer anymore.”

“Oh?” Laura tilted her head, interest sparking behind her eyes. “Didn’t know she handed you off.”

Devin nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “Yeah. Reassigned. No big deal.”

He didn’t owe her an explanation. And definitely not that explanation.

Laura didn’t press. Instead, she reached into her purse, pulled out a pen, and flipped over a small receipt from her bag. She scribbled her number in looping script and handed it to him.

“Well, if you ever want to chat…” She met his eyes again, her smile half-serious. “About life. Or parole. Or literally anything else.”

Devin looked down at the number, then back up at her. “You sure Rikki would be cool with that?”

Laura shrugged. “You’re not her parolee so why does it matter. Besides I’m just offering to chat.”

A flash of something passed between them—playful, a little dangerous. Then she stepped past him, heels clicking confidently as she walked down the hall toward Rikki’s office.

Devin stood there a moment longer, staring at the number in his hand. He should throw it out. He didn’t.

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