More Than A Favor (Elaine and Logan) novel Chapter 4

I never thought I'd find myself sitting in a police station, accused of indecency.

The boy I'd accidentally knocked down—who turned out to be a seventeen-year-old named Kian Vaughn—insisted I'd done it on purpose. His story was as absurd as it was infuriating.

"She touched me!" Kian declared dramatically, pointing at me like I was a criminal.

The officer leaned forward, his expression carefully neutral. "Where exactly did she touch you?"

Kian's face lit up with faux indignation as he pointed to his chest and then below his waist. "Here. And here!"

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

What in the actual hell?

I nearly shouted my disbelief out loud. Me, a woman who hadn't even touched Logan—someone I'd been in love with for ten years—was suddenly being accused of assaulting a brat who hadn't even finished puberty.

The officer turned his attention to me, his expression skeptical.

"I didn't touch him," I said quickly, my voice firm. "I bumped into him by accident. That's it."

"Had you been drinking?" he asked, his tone pointed.

I blinked, caught off guard. Was that really relevant? But in this world, a drunk man was just a man. A drunk woman? She was indecent.

"Yes," I admitted. "I had a bottle of beer."

The officer raised an eyebrow, his disbelief clear.

I sighed, frustrated. "Look, I wasn't drunk, and I definitely didn't ‘take advantage' of this kid." My words came out sharper than intended, but I was too irritated to care.

The officer made a note of my statement before turning back to Kian. "Are you absolutely sure about your accusation? You're aware filing a false report is a crime, right?"

Kian crossed his arms defiantly. "I'm sure. She touched me."

I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to strangle him.

Before I could say something I'd regret, Kian's face suddenly brightened. His gaze shifted to the doorway.

"Selene, you're here!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with childish glee.

I turned to see who had arrived, ready to plead my case to his family. But the sight of the two people walking in stopped me cold.

The woman was stunning, with long black hair cascading down her back and a flowing white dress that made her look ethereal. She was the kind of woman men imagined as their first love—soft, gentle, perfect.