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“I might suggest sexy instead,” Sam says so quietly only I can hear him. My eyes flash up to his in surprise. I push my glasses up my nose to have something to do with my hands. He’s overwhelming in his intensity.
“I…” I clear my throat, but no other words want to come out, so I just shake my head in denial. Sam continues to smile in the unnerving way he seems to have on me.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and frowns at the screen. His jaw clenches as frustration lines his eyes.
“Is everything okay?”
With a sigh, he looks at me. Regret is plain on his face when he speaks. “No, I have to go take care of something. I’m sorry to bail on our drink. Rain check?”
“Sure, anytime.”
He looks at Taylor and Brody. “I’ve got to head out. You guys good to get home?”
“We’re fine. We’ll see you later,” Brody responds.
Sam nods and then takes off without a look back. I swallow my disappointment while keeping my face a mask of neutrality. Thank God Nolan is too drunk to call me out on it. He’s always been great at reading me, even when I don’t want him to.
“We’re going to head back to our table. It was great to meet you guys,” I say to Taylor and Brody. They both nod, and Nolan and I walk back to sit with Matthew and Adam.
“What just happened?” Adam asks when we settle into our chairs.
“He had to go take care of something, I guess.” I shrug.
“But you got his number, though, right?” Matthew presses.
All I can do is shake my head. Maybe I misread the whole interaction. Even if I didn’t, it’s better this way. I’m not good enough for a guy like Sam. I’d just drag him down like I did Chase.
CHAPTER 2
Sam
The hypnotic whir of the treadmill drowns out every thought cycling through my head. Running is the only thing that helps calm my mind when I have too many things to think about.
“You gonna run yourself into the ground before we even get our first call?” Brody yells over the noise. His jeans are dirty, and his hat is turned around backward, telling me he’s been working with Daniel on the trucks.
I huff out a laugh. “I’m only at five miles. It’s practically nothing.”
He rolls his eyes while I push the stop button. He’s right, though. I shouldn’t go for too long while I’m on shift. Keeping in shape and staying warmed up is important to be able to do my job, but if I’m not careful, I can easily tire myself out.
“What’s got you all worked up?” Body asks.
“The usual. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” I shrug. Brody and I walk out of the small gym at the firehouse together. He’s been my best friend almost from the moment I walked through the door for my first shift.
He was hiding behind a door in an attempt to spook Rodney, another firefighter, and he jumped out at me instead. He scared the shit out of me, which made him die laughing. Then he pulled me behind the door to help him scare his intended target, and we’ve been playing pranks on the rest of the crew ever since.
“Ah. Anything I can help with?” Brody offers as we walk into the crowded lounge. He knows by now that I have to deal with my mom’s shit all the time. He doesn’t even need to ask for details.
“Nah. It’s not even my mess to clean up. I won’t ask you to wade into the dumpster fire, too.”
He shakes his head, used to my refusal of his help. I’ve been cleaning up my mom’s messes since I was a kid. It’s become second nature at this point. Adding another person into the mix would only make things worse. I’m still pissed at her for making me leave O’Malley’s before I was ready. I wanted to spend the night talking to Carter. Instead, I had to kick out another one of my mother’s wonderful, free-loading boyfriends. It’s happened on many occasions, and while I hate how disruptive it can be, I’d rather her ask me to help than do it herself. She always ends up with a black eye when she tries, and I have to help her anyway. It just would be nice to not need to save her all the time.
I flop down onto one of the recliners in front of the TV. Rick and Rodney are ripping on each other as they watch their rival baseball teams play. I think they purposefully root for different teams so they have something to argue about. It’s their love language. The two of them have been firefighters since they were in their twenties, and they’ll be smoke eaters until they physically can’t be anymore.
I jump out of my chair as an idea hits me. I scan the room for Taylor and Charlie. The two of them are always together, and I find them sitting at the card table we have set up. Charlie has her hair slicked back into her typical low bun. She’s the lone woman in the house and is a card shark. Looks like she’s trying to coax Taylor into playing poker with her again. It doesn’t seem to matter how often we try to teach Taylor how to play cards, he’s abysmal at them.
“Don’t fall for it, Taylor. She just wants you to stroke her ego,” I tease.
“Hey!” Charlie protests, throwing one of her poker chips at me.
