I’d come back to the firehouse expecting it to be empty. The crew was scattered across town, waiting wherever they could between calls. Instead, I’d found her.
Someone must have sent her over to rest. Made sense—she’d been cooking all day, and the firehouse had been sitting empty. Probably Kameron’s idea. I vaguely remembered hearing radio chatter about Elsa and Gabby heading back to the roadhouse to help with something, which meant they’d left Allegra here alone without realizing it.
I should wake her. Let her know someone was here so she didn’t freak out when she opened her eyes and found a man in the room.
But for just another moment, I let myself look.
This morning, she’d found me passed out on her counter. Made me food while I slept. Took care of me without being asked. Now here I was, watching her sleep, wanting to do the same for her. Wanting to take care of her. Wanting?—
My helmet clanked against the doorframe as I shifted my weight. Her eyes flew open.
For a split second, she just stared at me—a massive figure in full firefighter gear, silhouetted against the dim hallway light. Her gasp cut through the silence.
“It’s me,” I said quickly, pulling off my helmet. “Just me. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
She sat up, pushing hair out of her face, blinking like she was trying to remember where she was. “Hux? What time is it?”
“Late. After eight, I think. You’ve been out for a while.”
“Eight?” She threw the blanket off and swung her legs over the side of the bunk. “I need to get back. I’m supposed to be making dinner. People are going to be hungry, and I’ve just been?—”
“Hey.” I held up a hand. “Slow down. The crew’s still out on calls. Nobody’s expecting food right this second.”
She paused, one hand pressed to her forehead like she was trying to orient herself. “The others left. Elsa and Gabby. They were here and then they were gone and I didn’t even notice.”
“You needed the rest.”
“I don’t sleep well in strange places.” She looked around the bunk room, at the row of narrow beds and the lockers along the wall. “I didn’t even notice when they left. I must have been more tired than I thought.”
I crossed to the bunk across from hers and sat down heavily, the mattress creaking under my weight. I was still in full gear—coat, pants, boots—and I should probably take it off, but I was too exhausted to deal with the buckles and clasps right now.
She studied me, her eyes adjusting to the low light. “You look terrible.”
“Seems to be a theme today.”
“Chimney fire?”
I looked down at myself, at the soot streaking my coat. “How’d you guess?”
“You smell like smoke.” She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “Bad one?”
“Could have been worse. Got there before it spread to the roof.” I leaned back against the wall, letting my head drop. “Hell of a day.”
“Hell of a storm.”
We sat in silence for a moment. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Inside, it was warm enough, the old radiators clanking and hissing. Dim light from the hallway spilled through the doorway, casting long shadows across the floor.
It was intimate in a way I hadn’t expected. Just the two of us, alone in the dark, the rest of the world buried under snow.
“Your parents still in town?” I asked. “With this storm, I mean.”
She nodded. “They live out past the old mill. Dad’s probably loving this—he stocks up for winter like the apocalypse is coming every year. Mom’s probably going stir-crazy.” A small smile crossed her face. “She’s not great at sitting still.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What about yours? Your family?”
I hesitated. This wasn’t a topic I usually got into. But something about the darkness, the quiet, made it easier to say things I normally kept to myself.
