Chapter 5 #3
“A couple. Pretty low-key. Got a workout in, which was good.” He leans back against the counter near the stove—his usual spot, but tonight, he’s shifting his weight and practically squirming like he forgets how to stand still.
“Alma Wendt’s carbon monoxide detector went off.
Oh my god, did I tell you about how Clay Marsh called to report an interdimensional portal, and Holden and I practically had to rock-paper-scissors over whether supernatural events fall under the sheriff’s purview or mine? ”
Robbie’s laugh warms me all over.
“Just please tell me you won,” I say.
We talk about our usual stuff—work, sports, the tourism campaign Beckett’s boyfriend Griffin’s been working on for months.
But there’s something different tonight.
Robbie keeps moving closer, then backing away.
And every time he gets near, I catch the scent of him—that damn freaking cologne—and my brain short-circuits a little.
That’s not just me feeling guilty and overthinking either, pretty sure. Whenever I glance over at him, Robbie’s looking at me—studying me, more like—and then he looks away quickly.
If I didn’t one thousand percent know better, I’d almost think?—
Jesus. How many times do I have to go down this road before I learn?
“So what do you think about Greene?” Robbie asks, his voice a little rough. “You’ve had two shifts as his senior mentor now, right?”
“He’s smart,” I admit, adding sausage to the pan.
“Blows everyone out of the water in physical training too. But… I dunno. He’s young, Robbie.
I don’t think you and I were ever that young.
” I grimace. “Maybe he’s more respectful to you and Hugh, the ‘real’ firefighters. But to us volunteers? Not so much.”
Robbie tugs at his bottom lip—a habit I absolutely do not find distracting—and considers this. “I hear you. I gave him thirty days, and it’s only been, what, a week?”
“About that, yeah.”
“Still time for you to kick his ass into shape, if you speed things up. ”
I snort. “My particular skill set with asses doesn’t involve speed. Or kicking, for that matter.”
I wasn’t kidding when I said that I don’t usually joke about sex—at least not me having sex—with Robbie. But it’s not like we haven’t both done it with others. Meaningless trash talk is the primary purpose of a locker room; changing your clothes is a distant second.
But tonight—less than thirty minutes after imagining Robbie groaning “show me how much you can take” while I jerked off—my cheeks go flame-hot, and all I can think about is Robbie’s ass. About my comment last week. About how everything feels weirdly charged.
“Uh, s-sorry?” I say lamely.
Robbie’s staring at the ceiling again, and his cheeks are red too. “No. It’s not… You’re fine.”
The silence stretches for a beat too long. Robbie shifts again, and this time, I’m pretty sure he shifts closer.
Finally, Robbie clears his throat. “I, ah, meant to show you.” He pulls out his phone, fumbling a little before getting it unlocked. “Brie’s science fair project. Remember that was today?”
Thank fuck, a neutral topic.
“Remember? Her topic this year was half my idea! Or, like, a quarter mine, anyway.” I lean closer and grab his wrist to see the photo of his twelve-year-old niece beaming next to her poster board.
Robbie’s crouched beside her with his arm around her shoulders.
She has Robbie’s exact grin, and it makes my stomach wobble.
“ Fire Extinguishers: Not Just for Emergencies. What a fucking superstar.” I look up at him. “Did she win?”
“First place for sixth grade, second overall.” His eyes glow with pride. “I told her Uncle Ames would have cake to celebrate this weekend.”
“Fuck yes, he will. Oh, that reminds me—Auden mentioned a middle school science camp up near Stowe. They do experiments with fire and stuff. I bet Watchfire could sponsor a scholarship if Brie’s interested. The Ames Axford Junior Fire Extinguishers Club.”
Robbie’s face lights up. “Really? That would be—” Then his expression shifts, and he looks down at me with mock seriousness.
“Wait, I see your plan now. The Ames Axford Junior Arsonists Club has them learn fire extinguishing, then gets them started lighting fires?” He deadpans.
“Training America’s next generation of criminals, Amesie? ”
I burst out laughing—too loud, too long, completely out of proportion to the joke. But fuck, it feels good to be understood.
“It was funny, but not that funny,” Robbie says, but he’s grinning.
“Sorry.” I wipe my eyes, realize I’m still gripping his wrist, and let go quickly. “It’s just… nice. Us.”
Something passes over Robbie’s face. “Yeah.”
We’re standing close now. Really close. How’d that happen? I can feel the heat coming off his body. I haven’t allowed myself to stand this close to him in weeks, and now that I am?—
“Amesie, I think your sausage is about to catch fire.”
I blink, and my immediate thought is that my dick is no more than half-hard and really shouldn’t be visible, even in these pants?—
Robbie pushes me out of the way and grabs the pan from the stove, moving it to an unused burner .
Oh. Right.
The sausages aren’t close to burning, though my face certainly is now. Still, I busy myself at the stove for a minute, glad for the distraction.
“Did Anna and Mike make it to Brie’s science fair?”
“Anna did.” He leans against the counter again. “Arranged her schedule so she’ll be working overnights next week, but she got there and took a million pics.” He frowns slightly. “Mike didn’t.”
I bite back the rude comment I want to make. I try not to discuss Mike with Robbie because hearing about him just pisses me off—at both Mike and Robbie, whether that’s fair or not.
“Hard to get off work sometimes,” I say instead.
“He’s not working,” Robbie admits. “He got fired last week from Luc’s crew, and he’s been looking for a new job.”
“Ah, fuck.” As predicted, my anger revs from zero to sixty in 0.2 seconds. “Did he ask how you’re doing?” I demand, banging my spoon against the pan.
“Huh?”
“When Mike texted to ask you for money—which we both know he did, since today’s the third, and his rent was due two days ago—did he ask how you were doing?
Did he ask how wedding planning was coming?
Did he ask how your knee is, given the rainy weather we’ve had?
Did he say, ‘Rob, I appreciate this so much, let me come mow your lawn for you while I’m not working and take something off your plate for a change’? Did he do any of that?”
Robbie’s jaw is tight, and his eyes are squeezed shut. Which means no .
“Babe,” I say softly, reaching out a hand to cup his neck.
He stiffens and moves away. “I know you think I’m weak for not cutting him off?—”
“What?” I shake my head, my hand still suspended in midair between us. “I’ve never?—”
“—but he’s my brother. He has no one but me.
And I… I have no one but him. I don’t like the choices he makes.
In fact, I am fucking angry, and I told him so.
Because his kids deserve better. Hell, I deserve better.
But you don’t get to pick your family. You have to make the best of it and stick with the ones you’ve got.
And I… fuck.” He scrubs both hands through his hair.
“Lissa says block him . You think the same?—”
I have to grind my teeth a little because, yeah , I do, but the comparison to Lissa isn’t exactly my favorite.
“It’s not that easy,” Robbie goes on. “Could you turn your back on Holden, if he needed you?”
It’s not the same. Holden and I give each other shit—hell, Holden gives all us siblings shit; I’m just the one who gives it back to him the most. But there is nothing Holden wouldn’t do for me, and me for him. It’s reciprocal.
Pointing that out feels unkind, though. Like, look at what I have and you don’t . Besides, Robbie sees the difference. He’s too smart not to. He just doesn’t want to acknowledge it.
“You deserve the fucking best , Rob,” I growl, grabbing the back of his neck again.
This time, he lets me. “That’s why this pisses me off.
You know that, right? If you want to give him money, give him money.
Hell, if you thought it would be fun to burn it in a pile on your lawn, I’d hand you a match…
and bring an extinguisher, just in case. All I want is for you to be happy.”
Robbie’s nostrils flare, and his eyes get shiny. “I know.”
“But this asshole does not make you happy. Not even in the way that helping other people makes you happy. Because you know that you’re not actually helping him.”
Robbie looks away, and I squeeze his neck tighter.
“Which is why, I’m warning you right now, one of these days, I am going to yeet your brother into the surface of the sun.
You’re going to hear scientists speculating on TV about what’s causing the weird, Mike-shaped eclipse.
And you’ll say to yourself, ‘Damn, I guess poor Ames finally lost his temper.’ Please pretend to be surprised. ”
Robbie lifts his eyes to mine, and we stare at each other for a long moment. Then his eyes go wide.
“Ames… lost his temper ?”
I snort. “You don’t have to start pretending now , dipshit.”
“Ames? Poor Ames Axford? My shy, sweet best friend?”
“Hey! I’m a delight .”
Robbie’s mouth twitches. “A delight.”
“And handsome.”
“Of course.” He smiles full-on. His whole face softens, and his eyes heat .
Fortunately, an ominous crackling from the stove distracts me before I can go too far down the road to ruin.
Remember Auden, Ames? Remember how you’re over all this?
“Grab some plates?” I manage to sound light and easy, which is a victory. “These really are about to burn now.”
But when Robbie reaches past me for the plates on the far side of the stove, his chest presses against my back, and I have to hold back a moan.