CHAPTER 10
BETH
The air clingsto my skin as I walk toward the firehouse, my dress sticking to the backs of my thighs. I’ve got a brown paper bag in my hand—his favorite sandwich, chips, a bottle of iced tea sweating through the paper.
Sean. We needed to figure this out. He was the safe guy. The sex used to be good. Deep. Slow. Soul touching.
We just needed to reconnect.
I didn’t need the flame and fire that Ethan and Sage had. Nothing beats a steady burn.
The bay doors are open.
Inside smells like oil and metal and something fried.
Sean looks up when I step in.
The smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Hey,” I say, bright, hopeful.
His shoulders tense.
“Beth—what are you doing here?”
I laugh, a little uncertain now. “Surprising you?”
He glances over my shoulder. Then back at me.
“I—I can’t right now,” he says. Too quickly. “We’ve got a call.”
No sirens.
No urgency.
Just dismissal.
“I’ll just leave this—” I lift the bag.
“Don’t,” he says, sharper than he means to. He scrubs a hand over his face. “You really can’t be here right now. It’s not a good time.”
The room feels wrong.
The guys don’t meet my eyes. Conversations dip, then restart too loudly. Someone clears their throat.
I glance towards his locker.
The photo.
The one of us at the beach—sunburned, laughing, my hair a mess, his arm slung around me like I belonged there.
It’s gone.
Just a torn piece of tape where it used to be.
My stomach drops.
“What happened to the picture?” I ask.
