Finally, he speaks. “How long are you staying, Lo?”
I pause, crumbs stuck in my mouth. Chew. Swallow. Sip.
Anything to buy myself time.
“Not long,” I say carefully. “Just… until I can get back on my feet.”
His brow furrows. “Back on your feet, how?”
“Just… you know. Figure things out.”
“Lo.”
I roll my eyes. “God, you say my name like it’s a curse and a prayer at the same time.”
He ignores that. “You’re not fine, you know. You crashed your car into a goddamn parade float.”
I wince. “Yeah, well. Parade floats shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
He snorts. “Sneak up on you? It was parked. In the middle of Main Street. You know how clogged the Winterfest Parade gets. It’s the biggest parade of the year.”
“Listen,” I mutter, picking at the crust of my toast, “I don’t need the victim blaming right now.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Still got that mouth on you, huh?”
“Still got those judgmental eyebrows on you, huh?”
He raises said eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You want to know what these eyebrows have seen lately?”
I raise mine right back. “Oh god, is this about your weird firefighter cult again?”
“Cult?” He scoffs. “We’re literally saving people’s lives, Lo.”
“Yeah, yeah, noble profession, calendar shoots, heroic rescues, hot guys in suspenders… I know the brand.”
He gives me a look. “You think we actually wear suspenders?”
“I think your PR team would be stupid not to,” I shoot back.
He shakes his head, leaning back in the chair with a soft smile playing at his lips. “I’m the captain now, you know.”
That makes me pause mid-bite. “Wait. Seriously?”
“Seriously. And yes, suspenders are a staple part of the uniform.”
“Fire Captain Beckett Calloway.” I let out a low whistle. “Look at you, climbing ladders and saving lives.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of pride he can’t hide. “Someone had to do it.”
“Congratulations,” I say quietly, meaning it more than I expected. “You always were good at keeping people safe.”
Something flickers in his eyes. Warmth, maybe. Or regret. I can’t tell anymore.
“What about you?” he asks after a beat. “Where have you been? What have you been doing all this time?”
I shrug, taking another small bite of toast to buy myself time. “This and that.”
“Lo.”
