“Don’t doubt it for a second,” Miles says with a sigh.
“And the guys that go into the fires wear these things that are called S-C-B-As and—”
“You mean SCUBA?” Miles asks, and once again, I try to hide my smirk because I already know what’s coming.
“No, Uncle Miles, that’s for people who gounderwater. That’s what the U stands for—underwater. This is just for them to breathe through the smoke.”
“Right,” he says with a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That does make sense.”
He really is fucking adorable.
“How old do you have to be to be a firefighter?” Noah asks, turning the wheel back and forth as much as it’ll go, which is only a few centimeters, if that. There’s no give because it’s not on, and even when it is, this thing isn’t the easiest to turn.
“Eighteen,” I say. “That’s when I became a firefighter.”
“Wow. And how old are you now?” Miles asks, sounding impressed but also shocked.
I narrow my eyes. “How old do you think I am?”
He laughs. “Oh, no. I’m not falling for that.”
“Think you’ll offend me?”
“I’m just really bad at guessing.”
“He’s right,” Noah says with a snort-laugh. “One time I asked him how many sprinkles were on my cupcake, and he said twelve but there was like a hundred.”
“Hey, first of all, that was on your fourth birthday, and you didn’t even know how to count then. Thereweretwelve.”
Noah rolls his eyes dramatically, and it’s easy to see how great their relationship is.
“Well, since you brought me food and refused to let me pay you back, I won’t torture you. I’m thirty-two.”
“He’s a teacher. He should know better,” Noah comments, still stuck on the sprinkle-counting.
“Just because I’m a teacher doesn’t mean I know everything, Noah. I’m not a genius.” He then looks at me. “I’m twenty-nine, and I teach kindergarten.” He lowers his voice. “Sometimes I think it makes me drop IQ points.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I can see how it would.” I pat Noah on the shoulder. “You want to go around the side to see the tools?”
“Duh!” Noah says.
“Okay, but you can’t touch them. It’s very important that we’re safe with the tools, and you have to be specially trained on how to use them.”
“I swear I won’t touchanyof them,” he says solemnly.
We move around the other side of the truck, and I roll up the side.
“Whoa,” Noah says, covering his mouth in shock. He takes Miles’ hand, using his other one to point. “That’s the ax. And that is the halligan. And look at the hose! It’s so big.”
“Hey, I know that one,” Miles says, pointing. “That’s a fire extinguisher.”
I give him a slow clap. “Good job.”
His cheeks turn pink, which happens often. But each time it does, I like it more and more.
“You want to go upstairs and play pool with some of the firefighters before you go?” JJ asks, looking at Noah.
“What’s pool?”
