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I averted my eyes from her chest and back to hers. She certainly didn’t have those under her shirt when I watched her leave. I shook my head as I laughed, trying and mostly failing to push any thoughts out of my head which didn’t involve friendship and friendship only. I thought to myself, she can’t be more than what? Sixteen? Way too young for me to have any other thoughts playing in my head.
“I did. You were important to me,” I said out loud, not intending to.
She crossed her arms. “Uh-huh. So important you couldn’t say goodbye or try to keep in touch.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. Britt didn’t ever shy away from the truth—it was one of my favorite things about her. I had no choice but to share a little more truth with her. “I was selfish. I didn’t want things to change, and they were. I thought it might be easier to deal with missing you if I made a clean break. I’m sorry. I was a total jerk.”
She stepped forward and patted me on the shoulder. “That’s okay. I get it. I missed you too. Lucky for you, we get a second chance at being friends. We moved back home.”
Realization dawned. “I thought I saw moving trucks this morning. How’s your family?”
Her smile faltered enough I knew the real answer couldn’t be good. She slid her hands in the back pockets of her shorts—denim that revealed impossibly long, sun-kissed legs. “It’s only me and Mom for now.”
“Your dad and Mandy…?” I trailed off in hopes she’d confide in me. I didn’t know why, but it was important for me to have her trust.
“They stayed behind in Winchester. They might come home a little later,” she answered with a small smile.
I simply nodded, not knowing what to say. It would seem the move didn’t change much. Mandy was her older sister. She was a year younger than me. As kids she was…to put it bluntly…mean. It wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if she stayed gone. But I know family is family. And she’s Brittney’s family. “Can I help you or your mom with anything? Unpacking?”
She grinned at me before sliding her sunglasses back in place. “Now why would I let you in my room to help unpack?”
My phone pings with an incoming text, pulling me out of a memory I haven’t thought about in years. That reunion went a lot differently than tonight’s did. I drain what’s left of my beer before checking my phone. It’s one o’clock in the morning, well past when I should be sleeping. Mornings for me come early. I’m always at Valley B by five o’clock, no later than five thirty. It’s a message from Mamma.
I love you, mio figlio.
Mamma knows when I need to hear those words. She knows what today is, the same as if she had been there with me. She knows I barely made it out alive. I open the message and text her back.
Ti voglio bene, Mamma.
I glance at the digital clock on the microwave above my stove. I’m wound too tight to sleep, so I decide to work off some of my frustration in my home gym. I go to Wally’s, the gym here in town, sometimes, but I usually prefer to be here where I converted my garage to a gym, equipped with most anything a fighter could want.A fighter.A path my father led me down. That’s what I am…what I became to survive. My body is built for it, even my mind, but my heart dreams of more.
After changing, grabbing water and a towel, I spend the rest of the early morning hours burning off the rage I harbor for my father and all that was connected to me during my time in Nashville. And if I’m honest, I’m also burning off the unmistakable and uninvited lust that curled through me from being around Brittney again. My heart and mind know to stay clear of her, but my body it seems, has other ideas. Those are feelings I’ll fight to the death because I won’t fall under her spell again.
Morning light, or should I say midday light streams in my blinds. I need to get blackout curtains. I sit up and stretch as I remember the pale green eyes I encountered last night.Coffee. I need caffeine.
I start my coffee maker and head to shower. I’m in and out within ten minutes, long enough to have my favorite brew waiting to be poured in my favorite mug. I still have my hair wrapped in a towel as the first sips of hot coffee touch my soul. But my moment of bliss is interrupted by my phone ringing.
I groan before answering, “Hello?”
“Britt…why am I finding out secondhand about your encounter with Hawk Abbott?”
Briella “Bree” Brigg.She’s become a good friend. We’ve been hanging out a lot. We were in school together, and when I moved back home to save money after college, we reconnected. We’re slowly building a friendship I feel blessed to have.
“Oh, um, it was no big deal. I took his order. That’s all,” I tell her, followed by an elaborate exhale.
“I heard there was some…tension,” she counters.
I relent to taking my mug to the living room, and then place it on a coaster on the end table and plop down on my mocha-colored sofa. I silently cast a glance at my guitar perched on its stand as it mocks me. Then I casually glance over my notes and partial lyrics scattered on the coffee table and inwardly cringe.
“No. No tension. It was merely surprise,” I tell her.
“Surprise?” She has the audacity to laugh.
“Yes. He’s someone I didn’t think I’d see again. You know that,” I say through gritted teeth.
“And I distinctly remember telling you, you would most definitely run into him at some point. Greendale Valley is a small town. Add that to you working at the only bar here, and voila…you have your surprise encounter with Mr. Muscles for Days.” I hear air moving against her speaker like she’s fanning herself.
I can’t help but laugh at her. “You’re crazy, Bree. Have you had any of these so-called ‘chance encounters’ with a smoking hot firefighter you can’t help but get twisted up over?”
