Chapter 4
Wyatt
I rewatch myself give a wink to the camera, my signature sign off. The video’s numbers were insane after an hour, but the exponential growth of social media has taken them to soaring heights over the past thirty.
Which is good news for me. Or it would be if most of my followers were from around here, but considering they’re spread around the world, I haven’t had a single person who knows Bryn contact me.
Hasn’t stopped my DMs from filling up with girls saying they could be whoever I want them to be, do whatever I want them to.
Scrolling through the new comments on the video, I scour them for any sign of her. Someone, somewhere, at some point, has to know her. Has to know one of them.
I freeze my scroll, my thumb hovering over the comment that was posted three minutes ago.
KingLiam69:
DM me. One of them is my girlfriend.
My heart stops, brain momentarily paralyzed. I’ve searched through hundreds and hundreds of comments so far, but this is the first one that says something like this. And it’s from a dude.
It takes me another half second for my motor cortex to speak to my fingers, then I’m on the guy’s profile, looking at the videos he’s posted. Sure as shit, the third one is of a brunette sipping a cocktail on the beach. The same brunette from the other night. Jordan.
I did it. I found the connection I needed to find Bryn.
“Ready?”
My ass flies out of the chair I’m in, phone flying across the desk in front of me. I didn’t hear my new lieutenant come back through the door to his office, but he’s standing there with his hands on his hips expectantly, the bulk of him taking up most of the doorframe.
Shit.
“Yeah, definitely.” A little sheepishly, I reach over and grab my phone from where it landed on a pile of papers and turn to him. “My bad, lieutenant. I’ve got this video that went—doesn’t matter. I’ll keep my phone—”
“Relax, man.” Nate’s dark eyebrows lower, the flat line of his lips moving into an easy smile. “We aren’t old school, old crew, no phones allowed. My first lieutenant was like that, and I vowed never to be like him.”
“Kind of how some guys vow never to be like their dad?” Myself included, I don’t add.
“Exactly like that.” Nate nods towards the door, a tousled piece of brown hair falling over his forehead with the movement. “If you’re ready to meet everyone, we’ve got roll call.”
The two of us met here before shift for a quick rundown of everything to expect today.
He showed me my new locker and storage space for my turnout gear.
It wasn’t the first time I met Nate, but it has officially become the longest I’ve spent with him, and so far, I like the guy.
He’s kept things informal and friendly, asking a few casual questions while he gave me a quick tour of the station.
We hadn’t seen anyone else in our travels, so this will be my first time meeting everyone.
It’s not often I’m nervous, but first days have given me the jitters ever since first grade when I walked in late and tripped in front of my entire class.
It was bone-meltingly embarrassing when the kids started to laugh at me, and I’d wanted to disappear into the floor.
Instead, I saved myself. Popping back up and ignoring the contents of my backpack strewn all over because I never closed it properly, I shouted a ta-da!
The classroom exploded in an uproar of laughter, but it was with me, not at me.
I never forgot that first day of school—nor did I ever forgive my older brother, Gage, for being a pain in my mom’s ass and making me late in the first place.
Maybe I should thank him, though. It gave me credit with the rest of the kids in my class, and after that, every first day was the same, even if I knew all the kids.
Comedy and self-deprecating humor got me through.
Or stupid stunts like tripping over my own feet just to get the other kids laughing.
It drove my teachers crazy, but it helped me survive all the first days.
“You’re originally from Montana, right?” Nate asks as he leads me towards the meeting room.
“Yeah. Diamond River. Just south of Sheridan.”
“What brought you out here?”
Proving my old man wrong. “Firefighting. There’s a lot of volunteer work back home, which is how I got into it growing up. The junior firefighter program was great. A foot in the door that taught me a lot, but it was hard to get on anywhere near home.”
“You didn’t want to stay in Montana? Boise? Butte?” Nate asks.
He’s looking at me with genuine curiosity. This guy wants to know me. The small lift of his eyebrows, the tilt of his head, even the angle of his shoulders: slightly twisted in my direction. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
It’s things like this that make it easier to trust a guy. To follow him and give him respect without knowing him.
“Figured if I was moving, I might as well make the move worth it.” I shrug, wondering if he’ll pick up on things I don’t say.
There’s a twitch in his lips, but he doesn’t say a word. Perceptive. He waits, giving me time to say something, but I don’t. Maybe one day I’ll share with him, but today isn’t that day.
“Fair enough,” he says as we reach a part of the station that’s noisier than the others. “Your new crew.”
Nate leads the way into the room but has no chance to say a word before the room erupts. I don’t even need to trip to make it happen.
“Holy fuck!”
“Oh my god.”
“There’s no way.”
“Are cowboys always this fast?”
The chorus of voices is hard to discern, but my eyes are quick.
They land on the loudest of everyone, a black-haired—holy shit.
I blink. Then do it again. My eyes are deceiving me.
There’s no way one of the women—no, two of the women, the redhead from the other night is sitting at another table with a blond man—are here.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” one of the guys at another table says. “Dude, I just commented on your video five minutes ago.”
My eyes dart in the direction of the voice, and my mouth falls open. On his feet is the man from the profile I was looking at when Nate surprised me.
“You’re the new firefighter?” the man asks. He’s shorter and stockier than both Nate and me but fit as hell. Dark hair, styled like he spent twenty minutes in the mirror with it this morning. Not a strand out of place.
KingLiam69.
The username reminds me of Tyson.
No. This man has a girlfriend. Jordan. Unless he’s one of those douchebags who cheats on his girlfriends. Firefighters all over the place have bad reps because of guys like that.
I give my head a subtle shake. Jumping to conclusions before I even know the guy. But the username is douchey.
“Someone care to fill me in?” Nate asks, leaning against the desk at the head of the room, while I’m still standing inside the doorway. “Is this going to be another Luke and Hailey situation?”
“Hey, that turned out great,” the redhead sitting with the blond says, leaning into the man with affection. Hailey and Luke, I’m guessing.
So they’re together. Good to know.
“It started rocky,” Nate responds dryly.
“If Savanna filled you in on Bryn’s story the other night, you already know most of it,” the dark-haired woman speaks up. Her eyes haven’t left me, her arms crossed over her chest, a smirk tugging up half her mouth as she sits on top of a table. “Meet the cowboy that got away.”
Nate, arms folded over his chest, glances in my direction. It’s obvious he heard the story, and I break into a grin, some of the shock finally wearing off.
Holding my hands palm up, I shrug good-naturedly. “I think it was more like Cinderella running away at the stroke of midnight, but I ‘spose the cowboy that got away works.”
I can’t believe my luck. What are the odds I’d be standing in a room full of people who know Bryn? That my new fire family would be friends with her. Apparently I didn’t need the power of social media, I only needed the power of time and fate.
That woman was meant to be in my life.
“It’s all my fault.” Hailey sits up from her spot against Luke, looking distressed. “They were feeding me shots all night, and we pre-gamed at Savanna and Nate’s—”
“And my girl isn’t great at holding her liquor,” the blond, Luke, interjects, but it’s more like she trails off and he picks up where she left off. He wraps an arm around her shoulder, placing a kiss to the side of her head.
“I don’t drink often,” she explains, seamlessly sliding back into the conversation. “I was pretty sick.”
“And once I was able to get her out of the bathroom for more than two minutes without her puking her guts up, we took the opportunity and got the fuck out of there,” the black-haired woman adds.
“You know, you honestly picked the worst time to go find your friends. I could have used the man muscle.”
“You managed,” Luke grunts.
“If I’d known,” I say, putting my hands up, “Respectfully of course, I would have helped.”
I knew I didn’t miss them by much, given that I almost caught up to the cab outside, but I want to kick myself knowing what happened.
My ninety-two percent thought is now at one hundred percent, easing any restriction in my chest that maybe they had left because Bryn didn’t want to deal with me.
Then again, I picked ninety-two because I didn’t want to come across as an arrogant asshole on my socials.
I was ninety-nine percent certain she hadn’t left because of me.
“Isn’t it one of those days?” the black-haired woman asks, emphasizing “those” in a way that piques my curiosity.
The last man in the room, the one who hasn’t said a thing, sitting at a table all by himself and taking up most of the space there because he’s huge, is the one who answers with one word. “Yes.”
“What days?” I ask, my eyes lingering on the man who finally spoke. Even though he’s sitting, I can tell he’s tall. Dark hair, quite long. I wouldn’t have thought the length of his hair would be in regulation, but I’m the new guy.
In my periphery, I see Hailey open her mouth to answer, but the dark-haired woman speaks first. “You’ll find out soon enough, cowboy.”
Sliding my hands into my pockets, it seems everyone in the room snickers at her answer, knowing whatever I might be in for. Another surprise, obviously. Though, given the context, I’m surmising it has to do with Bryn.
Or maybe that’s my hope.
Her brilliant smile flashes in my mind, those big, hazel eyes staring up at me. Earnest, open. Happy.
“I’m still confused about what video Liam was talking about,” Nate comments, looking between the man and me.
“Our new guy is a social media star,” Liam remarks with a smirk. “The kind Quinn loves.”
“I appreciate a male body, and there is nothing wrong with that,” the dark-haired one, Quinn, replies. It’s not defensive in the least. She simply owns it. “Tell me you don’t stop scrolling when there’s a sexy woman on your socials.”
“Have you met him since Jordan?” Luke laughs. “I swear to God he doesn’t look at anything besides her now. The dude did a one-eighty.”
“I still look at you, Pookie,” Liam says, blowing the man a kiss. Then his attention turns back to Nate and he gestures at me. “Cowboy Casanova here made a video about Bryn that’s gone epically viral. I saw it five minutes before you guys walked in the door.”
“Wait until she finds out you’re the new firefighter.” Hailey shakes her head with a laugh.
“Wait until she sees that video,” Quinn snorts, finally uncrossing her arms.
“Well, I will wait to see the video.” Nate clears his throat, and everyone sits up a little straighter.
Liam sits back down, and Quinn slides from where she was sitting on top of the table into a chair beside him. It’s clear the lieutenant version of Nate has entered the room and it’s time to get down to business.
“I’d like to formally welcome Wyatt Dalton to the crew,” Nate says, gesturing towards me.
My feet propel me forward, and it isn’t until then that I realize how far away I was from everyone. How displaced I was from the group. My stomach swan dives into my boots, and I take in a deep, steadying breath to try and reel in those first-day nerves swarming me.
Then it hits me. The gravity of the situation.
This was my first impression on everyone besides Hailey, Quinn, and Nate.
And my first impression to the ladies was of me picking up their friend.
I don’t keep my social media life in the dark from those in my life—the whole crew at Station Six knew, Tyson and Ethan even helping me with it from time to time.
But given that the people who are supposed to be my new fire family have all just seen me plead to find one of their friends, I’m wondering if they think I’m some sex crazed lunatic or desperate chump looking for a girlfriend.
It does nothing for the first-day jitters. Living up to any standards the house, and the people in this room, has for me might have just skyrocketed to levels I hope I’m capable of achieving.
I’ve got to do what I’ve always done. Make a fool of myself—in a way that doesn’t involve Bryn. And without making myself look incompetent.
It’s in the bag. I can rise to the challenge.