Chapter 3
Levi
Fake dating should not feel like this.
It should feel controlled. Strategic. Manageable.
It should not feel like I’m standing on the edge of a structure fire with gasoline in my veins.
Sadie Marshall is currently holding my hand in the firehouse parking lot.
“Relax,” she murmurs without looking at me. “You look like you’re being marched to execution.”
“I don’t relax on command.”
Her fingers tighten around mine. Warm. Familiar. Dangerous.
“That’s because you have control issues,” she says sweetly.
“I don’t have control issues.”
She glances up at me. “You just growl at church ladies and glare at cupcakes.”
“They were weaponizing frosting.”
She laughs, and it hits me low and hard, like it always used to.
We’re walking toward the station doors. Crew members linger near the engines, pretending not to watch.
Sadie swings our joined hands once. Casual. Comfortable.
It shouldn’t feel so natural.
“You’re stiff,” she says.
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
“I’m committed to the bit.”
Her thumb traces absent circles against my palm.
“You’re playing with fire, Hotshot.”
She smirks. “Good thing you’re trained to handle it.”
Inside, the bay falls quiet in that way only a room full of nosy firefighters can achieve.
Ash whistles low. “Well, look at that.”
Sawyer leans against the engine with a coffee mug. His eyes track our hands like he’s evaluating structural integrity.
“You two look like you’re five seconds from either kissing or committing a felony,” he says calmly.
Sadie beams. “We’re just practicing.”
“Practicing what?” Axel asks.
“Believable couple body language,” she answers without hesitation.
