The first time Officer Sammy Bryant arrested Taylor Dunn, she bit him. Not hard. Just enough to make him swear and nearly drop her. "Did you just bite me?" Taylor smiled through split lips and smeared mascara. "Should've aimed higher." Sammy stared at her. Taylor stared right back. The hatred was immediate. Pure. Mutual. By the time they got to the station, she'd called him every insult known to mankind and invented several new ones. He responded by writing every charge he legally could. Taylor called him a jackass. Sammy called her a menace. Neither was wrong. The second arrest was worse. Taylor spotted him climbing out of his patrol car and immediately turned around. "Nope." "Taylor." "Nope." "Taylor." She started jogging away. Sammy sighed and followed. Five minutes later she was cuffed on the hood of his car. "I genuinely hope your wife leaves you." Sammy's jaw tightened. "Careful." "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" "Keep talking." "Your personality explains everything." Sammy drove her downtown in complete silence. Taylor considered that a victory. The third arrest ended with both of them yelling in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. People stopped to watch. Someone recorded it. Taylor was standing on a bench screaming about police harassment. Sammy was threatening to arrest her for causing a disturbance. "You arrest me for breathing!" "Because somehow you manage to make breathing illegal!" "You have a personal vendetta against me!" "You make it personal!" "You are obsessed with me!" Sammy actually laughed. A short, humorless laugh. "Trust me, sweetheart, if I was obsessed with you, you'd know." The look she gave him could've started a war. Four years later she still remembered that sentence. Mostly because she hated how often she thought about it. "You're staring again." Taylor looked up from her coffee. Across the diner booth, Sammy looked exhausted. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His tie was loose. The divorce was tearing him apart. Good, she thought automatically. Then immediately felt guilty. Which was annoying. Because she used to enjoy watching Sammy Bryant suffer. Now she mostly worried about him. A development she deeply resented. "Your face is doing that thing again," Sammy said. "What thing?" "The one where you look like you're planning my murder." Taylor smiled. "Maybe I am." "Get in line." She rolled her eyes. God, she hated him. Still. Mostly. Probably. The problem was that the old Sammy Bryant had been easy to dislike. Arrogant. Bossy. Self-righteous. The guy who dragged her to jail and looked disappointed every time she screwed up. But then she'd gotten sober. And he'd kept showing up. Checking on her after meetings. Driving her home when she was struggling. Sitting beside her in hospital waiting rooms after she'd relapsed. Never judging. Never quitting. It was infuriating. "You know what your problem is?" she asked. "Here we go." "You think you can save everyone." "I don't." "You do." "No." "Yes." "I literally arrest people for a living." "And then spend your free time trying to fix them." Sammy looked away. That hit closer than she'd intended. The silence stretched. It always felt too honest. Finally he sighed. "You know what your problem is?" "Enlighten me." "You still think everyone's gonna leave eventually." Taylor froze.