It’s not that I don’t get along with people. I just don’t actively seek them out. I’m not a people person. I’ll save a cat from a tree, put out a burning building, and I’ll even save people’s lives, but at the end of the day... I don’t really like people all that much. Although Krystal always argued that that wasn’t true. She’d say it’s the opposite, that when I finally let people in, that’s it. There’s no going back. She said I care so deeply that if I did that for everyone, it would be too overwhelming, so keeping people at a distance is a coping mechanism, a way to protect myself. Lately, I’d have to disagree.
“Met Billy, too,” I add.
Tom chuckles. “Ah, yeah. Billy’s one of us, too.”
One of us.
I haven’t been back in months, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t remember ever officially meeting Billy before today, yet I’m already grouped in as “us.” Just like he already knew who I was when I told him my name. That’s what being friends with Tom and Callie all these years will do. Whether I want to be or not, I’m part of their circle, their family of friends. I knock back the rest of my drink, and Tom hands me the bottle, already anticipating that I’m not done with it yet.
After I’ve poured myself another double, I hike my brow toward his glass. He finishes off what’s left in it, then has me pour him some more. I notice how he sips this one slower, and after a few minutes of making small talk about how his sister and her family are doing, I can’t help myself.
“You gonna’ sit there all night and go shot for shot with me, golden boy? Or are you gonna’ grow a pair and say what you really want to?” A small smirk sits on my face.
He knows I don’t believe in beating around the bush. I’ll yank every one of them straight from the roots before I walk around worried about how I speak the truth. He’s never worried about telling me how it is, and I certainly don’t want that to change now.
“Fine, asshole,” he mumbles, setting his glass down on the table beside him. “Are you sure you’re ready to get back to work? Because from what I just saw, you’re dealing with PTSD, and the last thing you need is to have a freakin’ panic attack in the middle of a damn fire call. I get called on those too sometimes, you know. I’ve seen how bad they can be.”
“You haven’t seen shit,” I bite out before I can help myself, heat flaming up the back of my neck, every muscle tensing.
“No,” he retorts, quick and loud, before all the fight leaves him and a look full of that concern I saw earlier returns. “But you have.” He picks his glass back up, taking a hefty gulp this time before lightly placing it back down. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re at least willing to admit that being there wasn’t good for you anymore, but don’t be so much of a stubborn bastard that you go and get yourself hurt or hurt someone else in the process.”
“You gonna’ bench me, coach?” I respond sarcastically.
He shakes his head and tips it back. “You know, just because you make it difficult to love you, doesn’t mean we don’t, man.”
Thomas freakin’ Hadley.
And that’s why he’s my brother. Because where other people would write me off right now for being a sarcastic ass, he sees the truth. That I’m deflecting, avoiding the reality that he’s right, and underneath all this anger and witty sarcasm is a screwed-up man in pain.
“Not everyone can make it as easy as you do,” I tease back, letting him know without saying it that I love him too.
“We don’t want to lose you, too,” he says, his words soft and careful. “Just promise me, you’ll be careful.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
His eyes narrow, unamused.
“Fine. I’ll be onmyvery best behavior.”
“Oh great,” he barks out with a laugh. “Yourbest behavior? Fantastic. This will go well.”
We both laugh, and something shifts between us, like one of my many layers of resistance has been peeled back. After a few more sips in silence, I watch the amber liquid reflect the dim light from my glass before knocking it back.
“I’ll be careful,” I promise him, because he’s not asking much. He wants me to be safe and make good choices. To be here long enough for Sunny to learn my name and know who the coolest uncle is. If I do my job right, she might even learn a thing or two about how to drive him crazy.
“That’s all I ask.” He walks to the kitchen, and his glass clinks in the sink before he makes his way back to me. “I’m going to bed. You said you start work tomorrow?”
His question reminds me there’s one more favor I need to ask. I look at the big pile of fluff passed out on my feet. “Yeah, I do, but is it okay if I leave Ellie here?”
His brows furrow. “Isn’t she supposed to be a firehouse dog?”
“Yeah, she’ssupposedto be,” I mutter, reminding myself it’s one more place I’ve failed. “She won’t go inside a firehouse without,” I pause, finding it hard to say the name out loud. “Withouther.” I swallow roughly, clearing my throat as if something is stuck in it.
Tom nods, understanding. “Whatever you need.” He grips my shoulder before climbing the stairs to his bedroom. “‘Night,” he calls from over the top landing.
“‘Night,” I answer, pouring myself another glass, hoping that one more might quiet the noise that keeps me up night after night enough to get some sleep. It hasn’t worked in months, but maybe tonight it will do the trick.
Though I doubt it.
