He gives me that kind smile of his, and I’m pretty sure I have hearts flashing in my eyes.
It’s official. In my head, we’re going to get married. He’ll stand at the altar in some fancy dress suit with all pin badges on the lapels that people in uniform often wear, and the person who does the ceremony will blow multicolored confetti over us when we kiss.
That will never happen.
No, it won’t. Because I won’t have the balls to go to the firehouse and seek him out, regardless of his open invitation. What if he’s just being polite? I’m a player for the Chicago Thunder. He has to be nice to me by default, otherwise he’ll get in trouble with his boss at the firehouse HQ.
Nope. Hunter’s and my love story will just be something in my imagination. A fantasy I’ll live in because I’m not like Blaine.
At the thought of my twin, there’s a familiar buzz in my chest—my twinny senses, as I like to call them—that causes me to look up out of the windshield. Blaine and Alex are watching me with an expectant look on their faces. Blaine raises his hand in a wave, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion, but Alex quickly slaps his hand down and says something to him.
I guess I should be going. I can’t spend my entire day with Hunter, as much as I’d like to. I have obligations I need to keep up, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone.
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to do that,” I say, hoping the smile I give him is convincing. “I suppose I better get back to schmoozing before my head coach decides to bench me for the next game.”
He lets out a small chuckle, jumping down so I can get out of the truck. “We can’t be having that.”
“No,” I laugh quietly. He holds his hand out to take the helmet from me, and I carefully climb down so I don’t fall on my face in front of him. “Thanks for showing me everything. I know it’s lame to get all excited about a fire truck.”
Those dark brows pinch in a frown. “It’s not lame at all, Elliot. Just because there’s some folk out there who wouldn’t know how to have fun even if it slapped them in the face, don’t let them dampen your fun, okay?”
My throat tightens. Because that’s just it. I’m constantly being told by people who don’t really know me that I’m too old to enjoy certain things, like playingPokémonor being fascinated by animals. Apparently, it means I’m too immature. Too impulsive. Too… everything. When in reality, I’m just doing things that make me happy, and his words of approval hit me harder than he realizes.
“Plus, my offer stands. Anytime,” he adds with that hot-as-hell smile.
I thank him again and turn to head back toward my brother. But before I can reach him and Alex, something in me has me risking another glance over my shoulder. My cheeks heat as my gaze catches with Hunter’s. He lifts his hand in a wave, and I awkwardly wave back before quickly looking away. Blaine and Alex are both watching me, a knowing expression on their faces.
“So, how did it go?” Alex asks, placing a hand on my arm.
I think I’m in love with him.
“Good,” I say instead. I can’t tell him that it was the most fun I’ve had since we went to the zoo in the summer.
I have a habit of developing feelings for people who are nice and kind to me. Like I’m so desperate to be loved, I latch onto the first hint of it being given.
And while Hunter will probably never think about me again, I know I won’t be able to stop thinking about him.
Chapter One
PRESENT DAY
Hunter
“Checkmate.”
“Wait, you can’t do that!” Spencer yelps, then picks up O’Connor’s chess piece and moves it back to where it was.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sink further into my usual armchair and close my eyes, waiting for the imminent fallout. The move O’Connor pulled wasn’t a legal move, but I’m not going to tell them that. I don’t want to get involved. Their recent fascination with chess has ended up with the two of them arguing every time or, in some cases, with the chess pieces ending up scattered across the floor of the firehouse.
They don’t know how to play nice, and soon I’m going to need to pull the dad card and take it away from them and throw it in the trash.
“I think you’ll find I just did,” O’Connor quips, and Spencer’s face turns red.
They proceed to argue the rules of chess, and I let out a heavy sigh. It’s been almost forty-eight hours since I got a winkof sleep, and the pounding behind my eyes is a sign I’m going to be paying the price until—or should I sayif—I can catch some shut-eye later. We’re only three hours into our twenty-four-hour shift, and I can almost feel the phantom softness of the mattress against my skin.
For some reason, I sleep better here than I do in my own home. Maybe it’s due to having to be constantly alert. Always ready for a call to come in, and strangely, that allows me a sense of peace to sleep. It’s been my default since I was eighteen when I enlisted with the Navy and is now second nature.
I can’t remember the last time I slept for longer than four hours. It must have been at least seven years. Since the day I got the call about Duncan, most likely. But I don’t want to think too hard about that. It opens up wounds that I’d rather not touch.
