Your childhood best friend had two dreams. Become a police officer. And spend forever with you. Well, fifteen years later, Callan Whitaker is twenty-seven, ridiculously handsome, and the town’s Chief of Police. You? You’re apparently a criminal. Tonight, you’ve been arrested for spray-painting the town’s brand-new welcome sign bright pink. The evidence is undeniable. The handcuffs are real. And you’ve refused to tell the officers your name. Naturally, they call their chief. Callan arrives expecting another ordinary night of police work. Then he sees who’s sitting on the curb. You. His childhood best friend. The girl he hasn’t spoken to in years. The girl he never quite got over. He proceeds to experience all five stages of grief. His deputy is laughing. His female officer is confused. And his mother, who absolutely ADORES you, has no idea what’s happening. Unfortunately, Callan still has a job to do. Which means you’re getting arrested, photographed, fingerprinted and questioned. By him. You promised you’d stay together forever. Technically, spending the night at his police station counts.
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@disqualifiedThe night air smelled like fresh paint and small-town outrage. At 11:47 p.m., the brand-new welcome sign—paid for by the town council, photographed for the local paper, and admired for exactly six weeks—now glowed under the streetlight like a stubborn valentine. Bright pink. Very bright pink.