He perked up. “What is it?”
Julia pointed to the whiskey she’d found. “The bottle’s still sealed. We could get drunk?”
Before he even spoke, Max’s expression said her idea was on par with spray-painting dicks on a church. “I don’t think that’s a smart idea.”
She looked up at the ceiling, vowing to never cheer up anyone ever again. “Okay. Well, that was the full extent of my discoveries. You can keep banging your head on the door if you want.”
She sank to the floor and began prodding the speakers. “I’m probably gonna play some music to pass the time. Tell me if you want it off.”
She scrolled through the iPod and pressed shuffle. A pulsing electronic song burst through the speakers. Julia tapped her boots on the concrete floor. The property office might be a shit-heap, but it was a surprisingly good sound space. Already she felt a little better, the bass-heavy song reminding her of Ash. Of long nights drinking mixers and dancing with nameless guys. Julia closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Of all the cops in all the police stations in all the world, she was stuck in here with Max. Who said fate didn’t have a sense of humor?
There was a rustle and a thump and Max was opposite her, his back to one of the shelves. “So…”
Julia’s heart jackhammered. “So?”
Max stared at her with his bottomless black eyes. It was a bit like having an eagle land in front of you—you didn’t know whether to take a photo or cover your face and run.
“So, I can’t believe you listen to this music.”
Julia shrugged. “It’s good to zone out to.”
He smiled. Sort of. His mouth wasn’t a flat line anymore. “Guess I’m too old to get it.”
“You’re what, thirty-four? Thirty-five? Hardly in the same league as the keyboard-pecking cops you work with.”
Max frowned. “I’m thirty-three.”
“There you go, you’re a spring chicken.”
A strange look crossed Max’s face. “That aside, I figured you and I should have a chat.”
Julia’s stomach lurched. “What about?”
“Since we’re here for the long haul, we need to sort out the bathroom situation.”
Julia groaned, half wishing he wanted to discuss the kiss instead. “I forgot about the bathroom. This is fucking terrible.”
“I know, but it’s gonna come up sooner or later so I figure we’d do it now. There’s a steel bucket we can use. I’ll put it in the drug room, that way we can shut the door. Do you have tissues in your bag?”
Julia nodded, her cheeks burning.
“Good.” Max braced his arms on the rack behind him. “Food-wise, we’ve got nothing except your water—”
“—and whiskey.”
He gave her the same stern look as before. “The whiskey is evidence and we’re not going to drink any of it. We’ll probably be dehydrated as hell by Monday, but we can definitely survive a forty-eight-hour stretch.”
“Without drinking our own urine?”
Max smirked. “I don’t see why not. Unless that’s something you’re interested in trying?”
“Not particularly.”
“Good. As far as bedding goes, there are sheets in here but I don’t think you want to use them.”
“What does someone have to do to get their sheets confiscated as police evidence?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know. There’s a roll of industrial carpet in here. I cut it into a couple of mats for us to sleep on and there’s some clean clothes we can use as bedding.”