Investigating the Hottie by Juli Alexander Read Free Book Online

crawled out of bed, dragged myself over to the desk, and groggily rummaged in my purse for my Advil. Never leave home without it. I popped three in my mouth, the only dose that would work for me, and washed it down with the flat, syrupy remains of a can of Diet Coke. I winced. Warm soft drinks suck.
    Confident that the pains would stop in thirty minutes or less, I started the search for tampons. None in my purse or my bag or my backpack. I had nothing. I’d like to say that this didn’t happen to me often, but the truth was that every single freakin’ month, my period snuck up on me.
    Crap.
    Maybe Christie had some. I headed to the bathroom for damage control.
    At home, I could rummage through the cabinets while sitting on the toilet. I liked to consider it multi-tasking rather than awkward and a little gross. Christie’s bathroom was way too big. I’d love to have the Jacuzzi tub but the toilet was too far from the sink and counter.
    I relieved my bladder, feeling pretty lucky that my favorite pair of periwinkle panties weren’t ruined. Personally, I think periods prove that God is a man. Or a masochistic woman.
    Then I stood and waddled over to the bathroom counter with my panties around my knees. Unfortunately, I could see my ridiculous image in the large vanity mirrors and the mirror on the back of the door. I tried the medicine cabinet first. Christie had cleared the left side for my toothpaste and stuff, so I tried the right side. Score! Alone on a shelf below the mouthwash and moisturizer, sat a box of tampons. Super. Just what I needed for my heavy periods. I reached out to pick up the unopened box. It didn’t budge.
    I gave it a tug, and the box flipped down to reveal a flashing red light as the screech of an alarm pierced the air.
    No, I’m not kidding.
    I let go of the stubborn tampon box and covered my ears. What the—
    My heart pounded.
    “Amanda,” Christie yelled, banging on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
    “No!” I turned to the door and got the full view of myself in my gown with my panties around my ankles. If the apartment had been on fire, I’d never have made it out. But somehow, I had this gut feeling that the tampon box had caused the whole thing.
    “It’s okay,” Christie called through the door.
    “No, it is so not okay!” I struggled to pull up my panties. Unfortunately, this effort left my ears undefended and the noise hurt.
    “Put the gun down, Nic.” I heard her yell. “It’s okay. I forgot to tell Amanda about the panic button in the bathroom.”
    Gun! Nic! Here I am half-dressed and he practically came busting in here . I yanked my undies the rest of the way up. 
    The alarm stopped, and Christie came back to the door. “He’s gone.”
    “You rigged the tampon box with an alarm?” I shouted as I opened the door.
    Christie was fully dressed and wore a gun strapped to her side. She grimaced. “I’m so sorry. I’m usually the only one here, and I needed something to disguise the panic button in the bathroom.” She shook her head. “I am so sorry.”
    “Yeah, you said that already.” She ran federal investigations and worked undercover but couldn’t tell me what I needed to know to avoid a heart attack at fifteen.
    “So now you and Nic and half the government know that I’m on my period?” My life was over.
    She laughed. “No. Just me. Nic didn’t know I used a tampon box, and I canceled the alarm so the agency won’t even think twice about it.”
    And I thought having a guy ring up my tampons at the grocery was torture.
    I started to shut the door albeit pretty much in her face, but hey, I figured I was entitled.
    “The real tampons are under the sink,” Christie said. In a pleading tone, she added, “I’ll let you have first pick of the muffins for breakfast.”
    “Thanks,” I said, pulling the door closed. My heart rate slowed a little, and I could breathe better. I opened the cabinet under the sink and found the value-sized box of tampons.