I’ve always had an unhealthy obsession when it comes to Wade. Normally I would ignore unrequited feelings and move on knowing someone wasn’t interested. But with Wade, I couldn’t. I can’t.
That same feeling washed over me the moment Abby and I kissed at the Farmers Market and I remember how desperate I was for her to stay. I was praying to every God in the universe that she would come back to our booth. When she never came back and I was called into the station, I left feeling like I missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
And I was right, because for the short time she’s been here, Major is less rigid and more open and Wade, well fuck, Wade is night and day a completely different man.
Except at this moment, when I turn the corner and he sees an article of clothing in one hand and a rope in my other.
One eyebrow shoots up and that questioning glare that he would always pin me with is back. There’s less animosity behind it than before but a part of me hopes I still bring out a bit of that exasperated side of him I love so much.
“I would ask you what you’re up to, but I probably don’t want to know the answer.” He squints at me, as if he is in pain preparing for a verbal lashing.
“Then I won’t tell you and you can be just as surprised as Abby and Major.”
“Oh, no.” He shakes his head as he stands and makes his way over to me with that scowl I crave. God, he’s delicious. “Now you have to tell me so I can talk you out of it before you get us both fired.”
I ignore him as I tuck the rope in my back pocket, opposite the bandana and set the T-shirt down on the island. Grabbing a few pieces of paper, scissors, a sharpie, and a couple safety pins from the junk drawer I begin creating my visionary masterpiece.
I cut the paper to fit over the letters, the sizing isn’t exact but it’ll do. Then, with the sharpie, I write the letter H on one and the letter A on another, pinning it over the B and the E.
I spread the shirt, face up with the words on display over the countertop. Wade curls his head to the side as he appraises it with a pinch in his brow. Probably from confusion as to what I’m doing and judging my artistry skills which I’m only partially offended by.
“Lettuce turnip the heat,” he reads out loud. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
I look at him sideways. “Let us…turn up…theheat.” I flail my arms between the two of us and around the room. “We’re firefighters.” Duh.
“Okay, yeah but what are we going to do? Light her on fire?”
“Hopefully.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him as I pull the bandana, aka blindfold, and rope from my pocket, dropping them strategically on each side of the shirt.
“No. No, no, no,” Wade repeats multiple times, as he shakes his head, like I didn’t hear the first four no’s. Then grabs the rope, looking around like he intends to hide it.
“Hey.” I snatch it back but his grip is like fucking super glue and now we’re pulling it back and forth, neither one of us wanting to let go.
“I don’t even fully know what you’re planning to do with all of this but I don’t like it.”
“You will if you heard me out.”
“I guarantee you, I won’t.”
“It’s a good idea.”
“It’s really not.”
“How would you know?”
“How would he know what?” Major says and we both turn to face the doorway. Major and Abby stand, hand in hand, wide-eyed as the look between me and Wade.
I glance back at Wade giving him a shit eating grin and he silently eyes me with a contemplative look mixed with ‘please don’tandshut your fucking mouth.’ He’s so damn cute when he’s pissed.
“We were just discussing the next round of Truth or Dare,” I reply. “Wade didn’t think you guys would be up for it.” I yank on the rope now that Wade loosened his grip, giving him a little smirk because I won that round of tug-of-war.
Giving it a little spin in the air, I catch it back in my hand before tossing it in Abby’s direction. It flies through the room between us and lands squarely in her open hands.
Turning the rope over in her hand, she looks at it then takes a few steps in our direction, lifting her chin to see my amazing piece of artwork in my makeshift T-shirt message.
The corner of her lip lifts up, then the other, beaming into a full blown smile, and damn, she’s stunning.
“Lettuce turnip the heat, huh?” she says, “And how do you intend to do that?” she asks, picking up the bandana. Her eyebrows are raised in curiosity as she peers over to me.
