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Chapter one
Dean
Ipeeloffmysweat-soaked uniform, the smell of smoke still clinging to it.
The fabric is coarse against my skin, chafing against the old scrapes on my arm that still haven't fully healed. I let out a weary sigh as I open my locker and grab a towel, ready to wash off the grime of another long day.
"See you later, Dean," our rookie calls out.
He grabs his duffle bag off the bench and heads toward the double doors that lead out to the parking lot.
I give him a nod, acknowledging his goodbye. "Later, rookie. And good work today."
Once he leaves, I make my way to the communal shower area.
It's just after eight a.m., and the fire station locker room has finally cleared out after the shift change. I step under the spray, letting the hot water wash away the stress and exhaustion that has settled into my bones.
The soothing warmth relaxes my tense muscles. But my mind is still racing with adrenaline from our last call.
House fires are pretty common during the holiday season as people try to stay warm and cozy. Usually, they are on the smaller side, and we can contain them quickly.
But today's call was different.
It was a two-story house on the outskirts of town. And by the time my station brothers and I got there, the house was engulfed in flames. The homeowners had gone to a party down the street and thought it would be okay to leave the kids alone for an hour.
Unfortunately, the space heater they left on in their room sparked, igniting the curtains and quickly spreading to the rest of the house. We arrived just in time to pull the two kids out from their burning bedrooms.
As they clung to me, coughing and crying, I couldn't help but think about my daughter, Ava.
She's around the same age as the youngest child we rescued today. The thought of losing her in a fire like this terrifies me more than anything else in this job.
Especially after everything that she and I have been through together.
But despite the constant danger and heartache, I wouldn't trade this job for anything else. Being a firefighter isn't just a career. It's about being there for people during some of their worst moments. The weight of responsibility sometimes feels heavy, but it's worth it knowing that I've made a difference in someone's life.
I finish my shower and head back to my locker to get dressed. As I tug my t-shirt over my head, I grab my phone from my duffel bag to check my messages.
As soon as I see who the message is from, my heart does a little somersault in my chest and a cheesy grin spreads across my face.
Lily.
But before I can respond to it, I hear my station brother Mike's booming voice echo through the room.
Mike and I hit it off the moment I joined the fire station last year. He strides towards me, his broad shoulders filling out his uniform to near bursting. He sports a neatly trimmed beard that matches the fiery red of his hair and a pair of lively green eyes that are always crinkled at the corners from constant laughing.
I swear, despite the grueling demands of our job, Mike's positivity never seems to wane.
"There's our hero," Mike says, clapping me on the back. "Ready for round two?"
I chuckle and shake my head. "I think I need a nap first."
"Nah, you should try coffee." Mike's eyes dance with mischief. "I heard the new barista at that café down the street is pretty cute."
"I've got coffee at home."
Mike shakes his head. "You've gotta put yourself out there if you're expecting to find a date to the Christmas party. Staying at home with your coffee won't cut it."
I roll my eyes.
