19
JUNE
I’m not sure how long I sleep.Honestly, the night is a little fuzzy from every angle.I remember Ford, though.The way he came into my apartment and laid me onto the couch.I remember the medicine he gave me.I remember the way I rested my head on his shoulder, and the way his hand pressed against my forehead when he checked my temperature.
Yeah.That moment?I remember that moment a little too well.My fever must’ve been really bad.It’s the only possibility to justify my recollection of the evening, or the way I can’t help but wonder if he’s still here.I’m not sure why.It’s the next morning.He wouldn’t stay the night.He isn’t my boyfriend.Even Fireman Bryan—I really should stop calling him that—would’ve let himself out instead of spending the night.
I think I had a twenty-four-hour virus or something because I’m definitely feeling better.My body doesn’t ache.My nose is still stuffy, but it isn’t running like a trickling faucet anymore, and the pressure in my head has shifted from a full-blown migraine to a dull headache.I rub at the corner of my eye and sit up in my bed.How in the world did I make it to my room?I could’ve sworn I’d fallen asleep on the couch.I peek at Violet’s untouched bed.She must’ve spent the night at Jagger’s.I’m not surprised.The two are practically inseparable.
My lips press together as I slip out from beneath the covers and tiptoe into the main area of my apartment.The scattered tissues are absent from the coffee table.The kitchen counter’s been cleaned up.Any lingering burning scent from last night’s chili attempt has long since evaporated.All of the dishes from said chili incident are on the drying rack in the corner beside the sink, and the throw blanket is folded neatly along the back of the couch.Huh.Ford must’ve cleaned everything before he left.
Why would he do that?
Truth be told, I’m surprised he even knows how to clean.I’m pretty sure the man hasn’t lifted a finger in his life.Or at least, that’s the impression I’ve always had of him.It’s not that he’s lazy.No, I think he’s one of the hardest workers I’ve ever seen.But cleaning?I don’t know.It just doesn’t…fit with the persona he’s so carefully crafted around himself since the moment we first met.
My attention catches on the microwave’s clock.It’s almost noon.Good thing I don’t have work today, or I would’ve missed half my shift.Finding my phone plugged in on the kitchen counter, I click on my texts and the handful of messages from Bryan.
Bryan
How was your date?
Bryan
You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.
Bryan
You there?
Bryan
Text me in the morning.I want to make sure we’re still on for the chili cook-off.My squadron is really excited to meet you and try your amazing chili.I’ve been telling them all about it.
Bryan
Good morning.I hope you’re okay?
Bryan
Look, if you’re not interested, I get it, just…let me know, all right?
Well, crap.
Talk about taking the worst possible scenario and running with it.Maybe my date with Ford bothered Fire—Bryanmore than he let on.I’m not sure how that makes me feel.I guess it means he really likes me, so that’s something.It also means he feels threatened.Should he feel threatened?I’m not so sure.Add in my conversation with Lexie about Ford’s lack of boyfriend material traits, contrary to him taking care of me last night and cleaning my place at one point before leaving, and…I don’t know.I don’t know how I feel.I dial Bryan’s number and bring my cell to my ear.
Pick up, pick up, pick up.
He answers after the first ring.“Hey, June.”
Two words.Two simple words, and I can’t help but decipher them as if they’re the key to his soul, or at the very least, his thoughts.Is he mad?Happy?Nervous?At least with a text, I can reread it and search for clues.But those two words and no recording of them?I feel like I’m flying blind.
Brace yourself, June.
“Hey, Fire—Bryan,” I say, correcting myself.“Sorry, I didn’t answer your texts earlier.I slept in, and?—”
“I heard.Ford told me.”
“Ford?”I pull my phone away from my ear and read the screen again.Yup.I’m most definitely connected to the right person.Why in the world would Ford have spoken to Bryan?Am I hallucinating or something?
