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I turn on the tap to get the water warm and spin back around to look at myself in the mirror above the sink.
My skin is rosy with marks from last night, and my breasts are full and heavy. I look pretty decent, if I say so myself, and I wonder what Garrett would look like if he were standing behind me.
My heart starts to race, and my belly tightens with arousal.
God, I just got laid last night. A couple times, in fact. And already I’m thinking of touching myself in Garrett’s shower to take a little bit of the edge off.
I mean, who knows how long he’ll be busy. What if I don’t have the chance to get inside this shower and fantasize again anytime soon?
My phone pings in the other room, interrupting my thoughts. I take off like a shot, stupidly hopeful that it’s him, despite the fact that he left barely twenty minutes ago.
I rummage through my bag quickly until I find my phone and pull it out so fast, I almost knock myself off-balance.
Jesus. Come on, Lauren.
I glance at the screen and see a text from the last person I expected, considering my current location.
Dad.
The strangeness of getting a message from him while I’m getting ready to take a shower at Garrett’s house isn’t lost on me. I almost feel like I’m a teenager all over again, trying to hide the fact that I’m not spending the night at my friend Carrie’s house, but instead, sleeping at my boyfriend Brad’s house.
Which is ridiculous, obviously.
Dad: On a callout but shouldn’t take more than a few hours. Think you can spare some time for your dear old dad and meet me at the firehouse for lunch today?
It’s been a bit since I’ve seen him, and I consider the day I have at work for a second before answering. I know my morning is full and my afternoon is pretty packed too, but I’m fairly sure I have enough time to take a slightly longer lunch.
Me: Sure. I have afternoon appointments, though, so one of us will have to pick something up so we can eat in your office.
Lunch in his office was a routine he used to have with my mom.
And when I was a kid, on weekends and during the summer, I’d join them.
Dad: No problem. I should have plenty of time to stop by Boluga Deli. Just want to see my baby girl.
Me: Then it’s a date. I’ll see you at the firehouse around noon?
Dad: See you then, Laurie.
I toss my phone back down on my bag and head for the shower once more. Thanks to the interruption from my father, the idea of doing anything besides washing my hair in Garrett’s shower seems like a much better idea for the next time he’s inside it with me.
Decided, I make quick work of washing and grooming, make a cup of coffee in the kitchen, make sure to shut it off—I mean, he is a fireman—and then lock the door behind myself as I leave.
A nice Uber driver named Malik picks me up in his Honda Odyssey and takes me back to my house to get my own car so I can go to work.
Blessing beyond belief, he seems to realize I’m not in the mood to talk, so it’s a peaceful ride.
Door unlocked, I step inside my house, close the door behind me, and sink into the wood. I take a deep breath and sigh.
Twelve hours of euphoria, and now it’s back to waiting.
Am I really cut out to live like this?
The firehouse is full of commotion when I pull up out front and kill the engine of my car.
Several of the guys are outside, shirtless, with their tactical pants slung low on their hips, hollering rowdy jokes at one another and tossing a football around.
Their faces are slightly tinged with soot, and they’re almost vibrantly running on leftover adrenaline.
I search the group for Garrett and come up empty.
It’s weird, though. Because I’m completely unsure if I actually want to run into him or not. I’d obviously love to see him—but I’d have to do it without being able to touch or taunt or smile. I don’t know how good I’d be at concealing my feelings, considering I already feel like I’m lying on a bed of nails just pulling up to the place. Which is probably the same reason I avoided Rebecca the whole morning—how do you face someone else’s questions about your feelings when you can’t find the answers for yourself?
It’s tricky, that much I know.
I scan the firehouse again, looking for something or someone familiar even though it’s been over a decade since I’ve set foot on this city block.
In fact, this is the first time I’ve been anywhere near Station 18 since I moved back home. My dad has invited me before, but all manner of circumstances has kept it from happening.
