Chapter 10
Miles
“Ugh, I think I’m in love,” I cry.
“It’s just cheesecake, Miles, stop being so dramatic,” Audrey says as Noah giggles from his seat.
“It’s the best cheesecake I’ve ever had.”
“It’s a frozen store-brand one.”
“Better than the one you made from scratch.”
“Hey,” she says firmly but playfully, pointing at me with her fork. “Say that again, and you will eat outside.”
Noah throws his head back and laughs, causing the plastic fireman’s hat to fly off his head. He scrambles up to get it and put it back on.
It’s been a week since we visited the fire station, and Noah hasn’t stopped talking about it for a second.
You’d think we just left the station, rather than days ago.
I love seeing him happy about something, but I was tired of hearing about fire trucks before the visit, never mind now.
I guess that’s the price I pay for having such an adorable nephew.
“Maybe next time you can come with us, Mom, so you can get your own hat,” he says brightly.
“That would be nice, honey.”
“And then you can sit in the truck too. Maybe the fireman will let you drive it because you have a license.”
“Maybe I should just buy him one,” I say.
“Yeah, that’ll only cost a couple million. Glad you have that lying around,” Audrey mutters, cutting a piece of cheesecake and dragging it through the whipped cream on the side.
“Nothing else to spend it on,” I mutter.
“Noah, you have to have a special license to drive fire trucks,” Audrey explains.
“Yeah, but the firemen were really nice, and they let me sit in the seat when I wasn’t s’pose to, so maybe they’ll break rules for you too.”
“Have you talked to your friend?” Audrey asks, swinging her head toward me.
My stomach gets heavy. “No.”
“Well, when you do, make sure you send him my regards.” She gives me a cocky smile.
I force a laugh, but nothing about that topic is funny.
I haven’t talked to JJ, and I hate it because I shouldn’t care so much.
I’ve seen the guy only a few times. We hooked up once, and that was it.
Nothing more. I know that, I really do, yet…
I keep thinking about him. And it sucks.
Especially because I texted him a few days ago, just to see how he was doing, and I haven’t gotten a response.
Maybe he’s sick. Or maybe he’s been working a lot.
He did say he does long shifts, so he’s probably tired.
He could have seen the text at some point and forgotten about it.
I do that sometimes. I am not a priority to him.
I’m just a guy he met at a bar that he hooked up with and was nice to and let his nephew visit the station, which any of them would have done.
See, I’m nothing special.
“Are you ready for Community Week?” I ask.
Audrey sighs. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s just a bunch of kids, Audrey. It’s not that serious.”
“You can say that when you go up in front of them and talk about what you do for work.”
I blink slowly at her. “Are you kidding? I literally stand in front of them all day and explain things.”
She waves me off, getting to her feet. “You know what I mean.”
I kind of don’t, though…
She brings her dishes to the sink, and I do the same.
“Finish your potatoes,” I tell Noah.
“I’m trying,” he huffs. “Can I have more gravy, please?”
I glance into the pan on the stove to make sure there is some left. Noah can have dessert when he’s done with his meal, but he hates cheesecake, so he’ll choose something else. Probably a pudding cup because he’s been obsessed with them lately.
“Yep.”
I put my dishes in the sink, then grab the pan and give him the rest of the gravy, which covers the little bit of potatoes he has left. This kid will devour anything if it’s covered in sauce.
Noah finishes them quickly, and then he brings his dishes to the sink and rinses them, which is part of his chores for dinner time.
“I’ll have dessert later. My belly is full.” He pats it.
“Smart decision,” I say as I wash his dishes the rest of the way and leave them in the strainer while Audrey gets him ready for his bath.
“I’m going to head up,” I call out from the living room. “I need a shower.”
“Are you going out?” Audrey calls back from Noah’s room.
“I don’t know yet, but when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Love you!” she calls out.
“Love you both,” I call back and head up to my apartment.
I’m feeling icky. Sad. More than I should over someone I don’t know not talking to me.
I should go out, even if I don’t want to.
Or maybe I’ll just shower, put on comfortable pajamas and curl up on the couch to watch a sad movie to make me feel better about my life.
Are there any romance movies with firefighters in them?
That would be stupid, Miles. That’s the exact thing you don’t want to do.
What is wrong with me? I don’t even know this guy.
Why can’t I stop thinking about him? I’ve had plenty of hookups before, and none of them were like this.
Sure, it was a little weird being so vulnerable with someone only to never talk to them again, but I never felt the need to talk to them again. JJ? All I want to do is talk to him.
I take a quick shower, and stare between my closet and my dresser.
Go out or stay home?
Bar or couch?
Movie or vodka?
“Ugh!” I drop onto my bed, the towel falling partly open.
I could just go to sleep. I do have work tomorrow. But it’s still so early. I don’t want to be in bed right now. I’m not even tired. How am I ever going to find someone to spend my life with if I’m in bed at eight? This is why I’m almost thirty and still single.
I lean over to grab my phone from the end table and pull up the group chat with Maxwell and Rudy, my two best friends that I don’t talk to nearly enough because we live very different lives.
We do keep in touch though, and we have a mutual understanding that we talk when we can.
No one gets upset about it if we go days, sometimes weeks, without a word.
Me:
What are you guys doing?
Rudy:
Oh, he lives!!!!
Maxwell:
Has hell frozen over?!?!
Me:
Knock it off. You know I’m busy with work.
Rudy:
Baby, we have jobs too.
Me:
Yeah, at a strip club!
Maxwell:
Better than dealing with those snot-nosed brats all day.
Some days… I bet it is. And I’ve thought about switching careers.
They’ve offered me a job multiple times.
Say I’d make a lot of money, which I’m sure I would, but I’m not hurting for money and I am shy.
I couldn’t handle taking my clothes off on stage while dancing with hundreds of people watching. Nope, it’s not for me.
Me:
Are you going to answer me or not?
Rudy:
We’re heading to work in ten, boo. Come by!
Do I want to deal with a strip club tonight? No, I don’t. But I haven’t seen my friends in a while, so I probably should go. It could get me out of this funk I’m in. Once I’m there, I’ll have fun. I always do.
The guys and I have known each other since high school and have stayed friends through the years.
We had a few partying years together, but that ended quickly for me when Audrey got pregnant.
They haven’t given up on their party days, despite hitting thirty already.
They’re both dancers at Crown & Veil and have been for years.
They get the spotlight dances on Fridays and Saturdays.
They do an act together and are basically inseparable.
If they were compatible sexually, they’d easily have the most solid relationship in the world.
Maxwell:
Come on! We’ll put your name on the list.
Rudy:
And buy you drinks!
Me:
Fine. Is there a theme tonight?
Rudy:
Lace, babe. It’s Thursday. Get it together!
I sigh as I get up, the towel falling off completely, and dig through the dark parts of my closet to find the club clothes I wear when I decide to visit them at work. It doesn’t happen often, maybe a couple times a year, but I’m always prepared.
There are only two shirts in my closet that will fit the theme, and I grab my absolute favorite.
The one I wish I had more places to wear it to.
It’s a black, short-sleeve, sheer button-down with deep emerald embroidered flowers along the fabric in an almost ornate pattern.
It pairs well with black slacks, and I guess that’s what I’m going with for the night.
I quickly get dressed and fix my hair, using some gel to style it back messily, bringing out the slight wave in it.
I spritz a little cologne, brush my teeth, add deodorant, and grab my nice jacket.
I order an Uber and head downstairs to let Audrey know that I’m leaving and also wait for the car with her rather than doing nothing in my apartment—I could change my mind about going if I’m sitting in the quiet too long.
“Open the jacket. Let me see,” she says from the laundry room.
I stand in the doorway and unzip it, holding it open.
“I knew it!” she says. “You look so good in that shirt, Miles. You trying to pick someone up?”
“What? No,” I say, zipping my jacket up and feeling self-conscious.
“Two guys in the same month? You going back to your old ways?” she asks playfully.
“Audrey, you know I’m not.”
“I’m just teasing, Miles. Chill. Have fun tonight. Seriously. Like… actual fun. And if you do hook up with someone, who cares? You’re single. Young. Do what you want.” She scoffs. “Sure wish I could sometimes.”
“You can,” I say. “You know I’ll stay with Noah if you want to date or even go out to the bar or something.”
She shuts the lid of the washer and pushes the start button, turning to face me.
Her hair is a wild mess, barely contained in that bun on the top of her head.
Her baggy Pearl Jam t-shirt has holes in it and is more grey than black like it used to be, and those maroon sweatpants have quite a few stains.
She’s still beautiful, though, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my sister. Audrey is gorgeous.
Her job is mentally and physically draining, which I know takes a toll on her, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve to be happy. My sister is an amazing person and the best mother to Noah. Someone would be lucky as hell to be with her.
“Yeah, a thirty-two-year-old single-mom who works fifty hours a week and has lost all social skills. Total catch.”
“You’re amazing, Audrey, and not just because your boobs are still perky.”
“No? That’s still a perk though, right?” She looks down at them.
“I hear straight guys still love boobs.”
“Hmm… Good to know that’s still a thing.”
She moves to leave the room, but I grab her arm. She looks up at me.
I lower my voice, and say more gently, “Audrey, if you want to date, I fully support you. Noah is a good kid. He’s lovable.”
“That’s the problem, Miles. He wants to be friends with everyone. What happens when it doesn’t work out?”
“You can’t worry about that now. One step at a time. Just… meet someone first.”
“I’ll think about it.”
My phone dings, letting me know my Uber is outside.
“Be safe,” she says. “Text me hourly.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Fine, every other hour.”
“Maybe.”
“Just text me, you jerk!”
“Night, love you.” I blow her a kiss and head to my Uber.