Chapter 19
nineteen
Nessa
I wake to an unfamiliar glow and a shockingly loud snore.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, and when they do, I find the digital clock.
His digital clock. I fell asleep at Mateo’s. Fuck. I don’t do this. I don’t do sleepovers. I need to go home.
I slide out of bed and tiptoe to the living room to pull on my coat and boots. I make it to the front door without stirring him from sleep, but the moment I turn the deadbolt, I’ve been caught.
My morning has officially gone to shit when a siren, loud enough to wake the dead, wails.
“Stef never had a security system,” I say and shut the door.
Heart thrashing, I turn and come face to face with Mateo and his smug fucking smirk.
He shuffles to the keypad I hadn’t noticed, and the second the blaring stops, his phone rings. He brings it to his ear, gives them a password, then ends the call, his eyes locked on me the whole time.
Unfortunately, in a town this size, there isn’t exactly a lot of overnight excitement for any of the first responders, and a moment later, there’s a loud knock. Mateo opens the door and shakes hands with Liam.
“My man. I heard a rumor about this.” He points from me to Mateo and back again. He’s dressed in a navy T-shirt with the PSFD logo over one pec and a pair of navy pants. Thankfully, the crew didn’t show up in their turnout gear. That would have only made this moment more humiliating.
He keeps glancing at me, then looking away quickly, and that’s when I remember that all I’m wearing is lingerie and a trench coat. I pull the jacket tighter.
“William.” I nod.
“Ma’am.” His tone is serious, but within seconds, he and Mateo burst into laughter.
“Bro, you gotta give Not-Vanessa here the code if you’re going to have middle-of-the-night rendezvous. Or at least don’t set the alarm. Prudence and I are the only ones on duty tonight?—”
As if on cue, Prudence Cleary comes flying into the room with her usual tote on one shoulder and a large EMS supply bag on the other.
“Liam, you were supposed to wait for me,” she huffs out, forcing herself to sound winded when she’s holding these parcels like they’re weightless.
She’s diabolical and I love it.
“False alarm. You can head back to the rig. I’ll be happy to carry the gear.”
Waving him off, Pru grasps my wrist and pulls me over to the fireplace. A chill is coming in from the door and the opening of the hearth, so I grab hold of my coat and tie it tighter still.
“I’m so glad I bumped into you.”
Bumped into me? That’s one way to put it.
“That boy Caleb was sniffing around, trying to confirm whether you’re really spoken for. Finding you here is good. Good. Very good.” She’s chattering so quickly I can’t follow the words, but her anxiety is palpable.
Placing a hand on her bicep to get her attention, I meet her eyes. The fear reflected back is familiar. She reminds me of the women in the ER reporting attacks.
She reminds you of yourself around him , a suppressed inner voice shouts.
“Can I walk you out? Or do you want to sit and visit for a bit?” With a gentle arm at her back, I lead her toward the door.
The sight of Liam and Mateo still chatting there warms me. Mateo has always been surrounded by people. It’s been odd to see him on his own so often lately.
Shit, I’m doing it already without even trying. I’m adding him to my list of responsibilities. Ugh.
As we approach, Pru reaches into her tote and pulls out an oversized magician card. Only it’s not a card. It’s actually a cell phone case. She taps at the screen, and then three phones around the room vibrate, light up, and ding.
“Prudence, what did you do?” I grumble as I read the message on my home screen.
Peacock Springer:
First responders were called in for a five-alarm fire at the residence of Mateo Santos-Manolo. No property damage, but looks like things are heating up between our Sunflower Fest co-chairs.
Mateo and Liam bite back laughs. I narrow my eyes, glaring at them one at a time.
“Get back to bed. I’ll text you tomorrow.” Liam tips his ballcap at me. “Vanessa,” he quips.
“Not my name, Billiam, but nice try,” I retort, though my tone lacks venom.
This is an old game of ours. Liam was one of the few guys on Mateo’s team who didn’t buy the bad-girl facade, hence the faux formality.
I have to talk myself through this internally. Being caught and having my business shared to the town is so uncomfortable. Caleb’s venomous jabs that my field of study, my desires, made me… words I won’t let myself think cause ringing in my ears.
I’m not a “bad girl” for being here, whether Mateo is my boyfriend or not. I’m thirty years old. There’s nothing wrong with owning lingerie or hooking up with a hot guy.
The logical and rational self-talk helps, and I barely register Mateo closing the door and lowering the lights.