Chapter 7
Korren
By the time Dex rejoins me for the walk to the fire station, the low growl of hunger in my stomach has gone away, probably resigned to the fact that I’m never going to eat a solid meal again.
“Are we actually doing this?” I ask when he holds out a hand.
He gives me a wicked grin. “You ready to give up?”
“Fuck you.”
So I reach out and take Dex’s hand. He’s not half-assing it, either—he twines our fingers together as if we’re a proper couple.
He’s a little taller than me, just a few inches, but his hand is a lot more solid than mine—I’ve got narrow artist’s fingers, people have said, not that I’m an artist—so I suddenly feel like I’m the smaller and more vulnerable one in a relationship, which is not an experience I’ve had before.
Awkwardness aside, there’s something deep inside me that likes being protected this way. And I’m not fucking impressed.
“Please tell me no one’s going to see us on the way to work,” I grumble as we start down the dirt road toward the front of Chief Rhodes’ property.
“Only one way through town,” Dex says, with an infuriating smile that tells me he doesn’t mind at all. “Unless you’d rather get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear.”
“Fuck you. And I’ve got bears where I come from. I know they don’t just randomly eat people.”
“You’re right. It’s the moose you need to worry about.” Dex pauses a moment. “Where are you from, anyway?”
“A town near the coast in Washington State.”
“What’s it called?”
“I’m not telling you, you creepy stalker.”
Dex swings our linked hands. “Shame you’re stuck with me.”
At the end of the drive, we turn onto a proper paved road with a sidewalk.
A block later we’re on what looks like the main street of town, which is lined with old frontier-style shops selling everything from whale keychains to gelato.
With the mountains looming behind the charming historic main street, it’s possibly one of the most picturesque places I’ve ever been.
A year ago, I might’ve actually cared about that.
Right now I’m just looking for a laundromat or a used clothing store and praying no one will see me holding Dex’s hand like I’m his fucking boyfriend.
Dating is way at the bottom of my list of priorities at the moment, but I’m not exactly doing myself any favors by letting people think I’m gay the first time they see me here.
We make it down the first block without anyone noticing us, but then someone comes out of a bookstore and gives us a funny look.
“Don’t you have a reputation to worry about?” I ask Dex under my breath. “I thought everyone here knows you.”
“Baby, I’ve trashed my reputation already. I don’t have anything left to preserve.”
“Fine, then what about me?”
Dex stops in his tracks and turns to look at me with mock concern. “I can see why you’re worried. These people don’t know a thing about you, so of course they’ll probably assume you’re gay for the rest of your life. If you want to chicken out now, I totally understand.”
“Fuck you.” I rip my hand out of his and stalk off.
“Hey, you don’t get to do that unless you’re giving up!” Dex calls from behind.
I turn and glare at him, but when he catches up, I reluctantly link my hand with his again.
At the next corner, someone from the bakery leans out the window and calls, “Hey! Dex! Do you have a boyfriend now?”
“No!” Dex calls back cheerfully. “We’re just competing for my uncle’s cabin! High stakes, man.”
The baker snorts with laughter and waves to us before ducking back inside.
I’m on high alert for the next few blocks, until at last we turn down a quieter street with the fire station visible in the distance.
“D’you know when our next paycheck comes?” I ask after a long silence.
“What, are you broke or something?”
I gesture at my clothes. “Do you think I’d be wearing these if I had a better option?”
“I’d offer to loan you something, but—” Dex clears his throat. “Let’s just say I’m not in the best position myself. We get paid twice a month, so that’ll be in another week. Chief Rhodes might be willing to advance you a bit just to get you set up.”
My face heats up. “No. He’s already done too much for me.” I can’t stand the idea of asking for handouts. I give Dex a sharp look. “You’d better not say anything to him. Or to any of the crew.”
Dex looks genuinely taken aback. “No fucking way. I just told you, I’m nearly broke myself. I know how much it sucks. And no one else knows, so you’d better not mention it either.”
“’Course not.”
We lapse into silence again, and this time it feels like we’re in this together. I know I’m supposed to be scaring Dex off, but there’s a strange part of me that doesn’t want him to stop holding my hand.