She finally turned to me. Her chest rose and fell in a deep breath before she smacked my hand weakly. “Yeah.” She smiled for the first time today. “Thank you, again. Always.”
“We are moving right along the list now.”
“Just a few left,” she said, holding my gaze.
We both turned away to look out the windshield.
I clenched my jaw, biting my tongue, and shifted the gear to leave.
Like so much of the time lately, I found I was too afraid to burst this bubble of friendship to ask for more. She hadn’t put me on a pedestal, per se, but she certainly didn’t seem to contemplate us being together as a couple like I did. She’d mentioned “different species” at one point.
If only I could show her how compatible we could be ...
It wasn’t just that I craved her touch all the time, constantly finding easy excuses to touch her and brush against her, but I missed her constantly too. Physically and emotionally. She was the first person I thought to tell about the new raccoon babies. Even though I did scold mom and dad raccoon for bringing them into the dumpster. They reached for me with their little grabby fingers when they saw me, and all was forgiven. She was the person I sent pictures of pretty flowers I saw on my runs. She’d unlocked something in me that made me pay attention to the little things, and now whenever I noticed them, I wanted to share them with her. When I finished my newest paperback, I gave it to her to read.
I hadn’t had a person in my life that I talked to everyday in a long time. I hadn’t even let myself miss it, but now that I had it again, I already worried about how fast we were working through the list. Why had I given us a hard stop for these tasks? Why couldn’t I drag this out just a bit longer?
Maybe until we were old and gray.
I shook that thought away sharply.
We were happy to learn that we both had Halloween off tonight. Though there were only several firefighters in Cozy Creek proper, so I never felt like I was ever really off, on the rare chance something big went down. We agreed that the Halloween Bash and costume contest would be a great way to knock a few more items off the list.
Then just the Winter Ball remained. The big event I was working up to asking her out to. I mean, it would be assumed, right? That she and I would go together?
I told Sophie I’d meet her after the trick-or-treating on Main Street. Even though I wasn’t working, I’d still agreed to hand out candy in my uniform. We decorated the old truck out front with marigolds and pumpkins, skeletons and webs. And few thingsmade me happier than seeing all the kids in their costumes, looking up in awe at the fire truck.
She’d been sending hints as to what her costume might be, but each one was more confusing than the last. After her latest text, I decided to stop guessing and let myself be surprised. It was three emojis: a little hand making an okay sign, a padlock, and a little house.
This is how I find out you’re bad at riddles, she said.
Or you’re bad at clues, I’d teased back.
When the flow of younger trick-or-treaters melted into groups of older kids, I told the guys I was headed out. I had looked forward to meeting up with Sophie all week, and handing out the candy to cute little kids has been as fun as always, so I couldn’t explain the weird mood I was in. A funk I couldn’t shake.
As I changed into my costume of a leopard-print loincloth and a tooth necklace, I recalled the conversation I’d had with Sophie a few weeks ago about the costume. Secretly hoping she’d try to match mine. But she’d been tight-lipped in her response. All she said was, “Everyone is going to think you’re Tarzan.”
“Trust people to know the seminal role of Brendan Fraser’sGeorge of the Jungle.”
There was a beat of silence, and I wished she’d tell me what she’d been thinking. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” she asked.
“Fireman. Naturally hot-blooded,” I’d responded.
After putting away my clothes in my locker, I headed down to the street and rubbed at my chest as I noticed a growing sense of dread I couldn’t identify. Was it just that I wanted to be here with Sophie in a couple’s costume? Was I thinking of doing something stupid like asking her out on a date? The chest pain tightened. Maybe that was it.
I didn’t want to bejustfriends. I wanted to see where this was going. I needed to know if she felt this pull too. It was asthough we were connected, and I never noticed the rope that tied us together. Now that I was aware of this connection, it forever pulled me back to her, like a lifeline tether between two firefighters in a particularly smoky fire.
Last week, sometime after we walked into and then back out of the tattoo and piercing shop, I’d decided that I was going to need to do something about these feelings for her. I thought about it again after we’d left her doctor’s office. Every time we were set to leave each other’s side, I felt the need to double knot this bond.
I stood on the precipice of something important that I wanted to tell her. If I could see her, then I was sure that the words would come to me. My instincts would take over.
I stepped out into the night, the town center bustling with families.
“Damn,” I swore.
I was freaking freezing and equally as determined not to show it as I made my way to the town square, where Sophie and I were set to meet. My nipples could probably cut glass, the tooth necklace frigid against my skin.
A large, lurking shape emerged from the shadow to block my path.
