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Maybe the trick was gaining the attention of an out-of-towner and getting into trouble together. That’s basically what happened with my brother. Willa showed up at his house for the holiday season thinking that it was her rental. Something similar happened to my friend Jerri when she moved to town.
Laughing at what an absurd idea that was, I head for the bunk area, wanting to switch out my pillowcase and settle in for my four-day shift. The shrill sound of the alarm had me miss one of the bunk steps, but I quickly recover. After throwing the sheet down on the bed closest to me, I spin on my heel and run to the turnout bay.
It was time to get to work and forget all about love and relationships.
Or, you know, come face-to-face with my childhood crush.
Chapter Two
Scott
Oh shit. Oh shit. This isn’t good.
Smoke is everywhere and I can’t get Bridget to stop crying.
This is pure chaos. And I have no idea what to do.
“Okayokayokayokay,” I repeat to myself, running a shaking hand through my disheveled hair. I think the first thing I need to do is open the apartment door and windows to get the smoke out. That sounds right. There isn’t an actual fire—anymore—so that is a reasonable plan.
After scooping Bridget into my arms from her chair and locating where Logan was in the living room—completely unaffected by the alarm as he ate his cereal and watched cartoons—I run to the front door of our new apartment and fling it wide. Then, spinning on the balls of my feet, I dash to the two windows that were closest to the kitchen.
I had no idea that chocolate chip cookies could actually burst into flames. Either something was wrong with my oven or the sprinkles that we’d put on our creations were not meant to be heated. Or maybe even eaten.
Christ, I have no idea what I’m doing.
I knew I should have just bought the roll of premade cookie dough and called it a day, but Logan had been so excited to try this recipe—it had been his mother’s favorite.
I could barely function as a single adult and now I was in charge of two tiny humans. This is madness. I have no idea what my sister was thinking, naming me Logan and Bridget’s godfather and guardian if anything were to happen to her.
Swallowing the lump in my throat that formed at that thought, I clear my mind and try to focus on the task at hand. Opening all the windows so the alarm would stop.
And fuck, fate was a cruel bitch.
“Are the cookies done?” Logan cries, racing in from the living room and yanking on my jeans leg. His tiny hand points over toward the charred pan and ashy black blobs. Nothing on that pan looks like it was once food.
“It’s okay. We’ll get more cookies. How about—”
My words are cut off abruptly when the alarm in the hallway starts going off.
“No. Shit. Fuck. No!”
“Ohh, bad words!”
“I mean fudge. I said fudge! Oh God, this can’t be good.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes for just a second to get my thoughts in order.
Bridget starts to gurgle a giggle, and her small hands wrapped around my neck give me a squeeze. At least she’s not crying at all the noise. That’s a small blessing.
“What’s happening?” Logan asks, walking farther into the kitchen with his empty bowl. I watch as he places it on the table, an action figure floating facedown in the leftover milk.
“Nothing, buddy. The smoke from the cookies is making the alarms go off. It will be over in a minute.”
He gives me a long, steady stare before shrugging his shoulders and stomping back into the other room. If I wasn’t internally panicking, I’d find his chill attitude funny.
I have to figure out how to stop all these alarms. There’s no actual fire so it’s just a matter of clearing the rooms of smoke. Maybe if I start to fan—
I hear sirens in the distance.
No. No, that can’t be for this building. There’s no way—
