It very simply could be the kindness he showed me. The way he reacted to my panic attack—something that has never happened to me after a hookup before. But it had been a rough day, and I was running on barely any sleep and too many beers. He didn’t freak out or look at me like I was crazy. He didn’t tell me to get my shit together and get over it because it’s part of the job. No, he asked me if I wanted to talk about it. He gave me his number so I could talk about it, if and when I wanted to. At that point, it wasn’t about the hookup anymore. It wasn’t about sex. It was about me needing someone and him being a good person.
“Noah, I got you some things,” I say, needing to break this train of thought. I hold up the things I found for him as I walk over.
“Oh, what is it?” he asks.
Miles watches as I hand everything to Noah, one by one, so he can see them all. He puts the shirt on, then the badge, the hat, and holds up the ax.
“Take a picture to send to Mom!” he says to Miles, bouncing on his feet.
This kid is full of energy. I wonder if he ever stops.
Miles pulls his phone from his back pocket, and again, it brings attention to his ass.
I really need to stop looking.
Miles takes a few photos, and I see him add them to a text and send them to who I assume is Noah’s mother.
I hear the loud rumble of the truck outside.
“Hey, bud, you wanna watch the truck come in?”
“Yes!”
We head over to the large glass wall that overlooks the bay. We stand there and watch the truck pull in, something that is so damn boring but somehow exciting seeing it through Noah’s eyes—for the first time all over again. When it’s new and the thought of saving people is great and not riddled with all the death that you’ve seen because it’s far more than those who live, it seems. And maybe that’s my fault for choosing my location and my position. Being on rescue, I see a lot of fucked up shit. I go on a lot of bad calls. But this is just what I need to do. And even if we save more people than we lose, losing is always heavier, so it adds up quicker.
“Thank you for this, JJ. Seriously, he’s going to talk about this for weeks.”
“Maybe you won’t be thanking me by then.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I’ll be cursing you out. We should get going, though.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
We head down the stairs. Noah waves to the new guys who are coming off the truck, and of course they wave back. There isn’t a firefighter in here who would ignore a kid at the station. It’s important they know how things work here. Giving them knowledge helps with safety, and sometimes it sparks something in them, and they want to do what we do.
“I can’t believe I have to wait eleven whole years to be a firefighter,” Noah grumbles as we reach Miles’ car.
“We have cadet programs and fire explorer programs that start at fourteen.”
“Fourteen!” he shrieks. “That’s likereallysoon.”
Miles laughs again, rolling his eyes.
“Thanks for stopping by, Noah,” I say with a smirk. “And, uh…” I wait for Noah to get into the car before I say, “Come back anytime.”
“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “For the invite and for not letting him hear that.”
I shove my hands into my pockets and take a few steps back.
“Have a good night, Miles.”
“You too, JJ.” He walks around the front of the car but stops before opening the door and looks up at me. “By the way…” he starts. I raise a brow in question. “When do I get to find out what JJ stands for?”
I can’t stop the grin that splits my face.
“You’re awfully invested in two letters,Miles.”
Chapter 10
