“I like ribs and potatoes,” Dustin says with a pout.
“Give it a rest,” Greyson practically growls.
I giggle.
“That’s funny to you?” Greyson asks.
“Yeah.” I smile over at him.
We reach the driveway and come to a stop. I press the ball of my foot against the curb and lean forward to stretch my calf.
“Why did you have Greyson over without the rest of us, Hallie?” Dustin asks while we stretch out from our run. “I’m a lot nicer. Haven’t Patrick and I been nicer to you? Greyson barely talks to you.”
“You should try that sometime,” Greyson says under his breath.
“Is that what it was?” Dustin presses on, paying no attention to Greyson. “Is it because Greyson never talks? You had him to dinner to get him talking?”
I put my hands on my hips, staring Dustin in the eyes. Do I just tell them I have a daughter—and share that Greyson is her coach? They’ll see me differently once they know. I had a plan. But that plan didn’t include finding Ace again.
I’m cut off by the alarm ringing through the station.
Patrick and Dustin run into the bays.
Greyson and I stride in behind them.
He glances over and says, “Saved by the bell.”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
Cody steps out of the office into the bay. “Dispatch called. We’ve got a water safety call out at Black Bear Creek just past Turnaround Road. Bunch of teens ditchin’ school and daring one another to go in while the creek water’s still cold.”
“On it,” Greyson says.
We’re all wearing our station-issued workout clothes—shorts and a t-shirt. Time could be critical if this turns into a rescue, so everyone jumps into the engine dressed as is. Greyson’s sweaty, his shirt clinging to his chest.
I climb into the left jump seat and pop on my headset, glancing at the clock on the engine dashboard. My stomach tightens. I’m supposed to meet Mia after school in two hours during my lunch break. I made her a promise. My word matters—especially when it comes to my daughter.
Patrick hits the siren and we speed through town. Dispatch keeps us informed of the updates on the situation while we pass through neighborhoods and turn down a country road. When we pull up, the sheriff’s already on scene. A group of teen boys is standing around in a dripping huddle, seemingly more embarrassed than in danger.
We jump out of the engine, joining the group. They look younger up close.
“Hey, guys,” the sheriff says. “Uh. And gal.”
The boys stifle chuckles.
“This is Hallie,” Dustin supplies.
“Nice to meet you,” the sheriff says. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem,” I say.
The sheriff brings us up to speed. The boys were daring one another to jump into the water while it’s still pretty icy. Spring is just around the corner, but the water is nowhere near warm.
Patrick steps in and looks at each of the boys. He launches into a talk on water safety. I glance around at the boys while he’s talking.
One boy with disheveled brown hair is shivering more than the rest. He keeps lifting his foot and then carefully setting it back on the ground with his heel still elevated.
I catch Greyson’s eyes and tip my head toward the boy’sfoot. Greyson glances down. He looks back up at me and nods.
