I liked the way he looked at me. I wanted him to keep looking at me that way, but knew it was in my best interest if he didn’t. Opening a window to my past might make him realize what a mistake it was to want to be part of my future. Did I want that? No, but I needed it.
“I was a fire station baby,” I finally admitted.
His brow furrowed. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“There’s a safe-haven law that allows people to drop off infants at police stations, fire stations, or hospitals… no questions asked.”
As Wasp connected the dots, his eyes ignited with something that looked like disbelief before morphing into anger. “Your parents dropped you off at a fire station?”
“My mom did. She was alone.”
“But…” He let out a breath. “They didn’t even leave their names?”
“Nope. No questions asked, no answers given. The volunteer fireman who accepted me didn’t know what to do. It was the first and last time anyone has left their baby at that particular station. He didn’t recognize my mom. Said she looked young. I come from a small town where everyone knows everyone, so if she was a local, he would have known her.”
“I get it. I’m from a small town, too.” He studied me, his expression curious. “Shit. Everyone knew, didn’t they?”
Now he got it. He really must have been from a small town. I nodded.
“That must have been hell growing up.”
“Wasn’t a picnic. The adults always had pity in their eyes. Kids wanted to know what was so wrong with me that my own mom dumped me at the fire station.”
“Fuck, Carly. I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t look in his eyes, didn’t want to see that same pity I’d come to recognize over the years. “Nothing you did. And it was a long time ago. I survived.” Surviving was the thing I was best at.
“You sure did.” He nodded and looked away, staring out at the water.
I held my breath, waiting for his reaction, wondering if he’d look at me differently, if he’d be repulsed. But, when Wasp’s gaze found me again, he looked more curious than anything.
“So… you were a foster child?”
Surprised, I nodded. “A nice couple took me in. They were pot heads and wanted the money to maintain their habit, but they didn’t bother me. I had a place to stay when I wanted it, and there was usually food in the cupboards.” And why the hell was I telling him this? His unusual reaction had thrown me off, had opened the floodgates of information and I didn’t know how to close them again. I snapped my mouth shut, trying to prevent more confessions from spilling out of my mouth.
“They’re kind of family. Do you keep in touch with them?”
I shook my head. “They graduated from pot to meth when I was in high school. I stopped going home sometime during my sophomore year and camped out on the couches of my friends.”
His bright, intelligent eyes held more questions, but we were getting too close to the shit I wouldn’t talk about, and I couldn’t seem to control my mouth for some reason.
“My sharing time is over,” I blurted out before he could open his mouth. “Tell me about you. What interested you in bikes? And the Navy?”
He eyed me but allowed the subject change. Putting his paddle back in the water, he talked about his grandfather, his time in the Navy, and his club. It was nice to hear about Wasp’s life. He owned his house, worked a normal job, seemed to have his shit together, all of which made me wonder what he wanted with me even more.
“Do you work tonight?” he asked as we neared the dock.
“Nope. I took it off because I didn’t know how Trent would do. Besides, my roommate normally watches him at nights, and she’s spending time with her parents.”
“Good. After that workout, I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat.”
Every ounce of common sense I had told me to say no, but I couldn’t. Truth be told, I wasn’t ready to be away from Wasp yet. I liked being around him, and his presence seemed to highlight how lonely my apartment would be until Jessica got back.
“I’d like that,” I said.
He gestured at the shore. “Looks like the cavalry’s here to make sure we don’t take off with the kayak. You wanna wake the kid up?”
The instant Trent opened his eyes, he was looking for Wasp. His gaze landed on our big, buff kayaking champion and he let out a heart-melting sigh of relief. “You’re still here.”
