chapter two
noah
“Don’t make me ask again,” I say through gritted teeth.
Tearing my gaze off Kira, I look over to Jared. They’re lying in the hammock, his arm around her waist. His droopy eyelids tell me he’s already three sheets to the wind, and the pink tint in Kira’s cheeks makes me wonder. Is there something going on between them?
“Don’t worry, Dad, everyone’s leaving,” he slurs.
“You’re right about that one,” I agree, turning toward what’s left of the party. “Party’s over, go home,” I bark.
The guests scramble to gather their things, a few engines revving to life before fading into the night. I exhale sharply. Why didn ’ t Jared tell me he was having people over? I wouldn ’ t have said no. I just prefer a heads-up when there ’ s underage drinking on my property.
“Let’s get you inside, big guy,” Kira says as she rises to her feet, grabbing Jared’s arm and pulling him with her.
I should help her. Instead, I pivot and stride toward the house, anger simmering beneath my skin. But why? I don ’ t fully understand it. I pull open the sliding door—not a complete asshole, after all—and hold it as she guides Jared inside. I even help her steer him into his room.
As she leans down to tuck him in, I catch myself watching.
Her long, wavy brown hair spills over her shoulders, cascading down her back, stopping just at her waist. Her jeans fit snug, hugging her curves—
What the fuck am I thinking? This is Kira. I ’ ve known her since she was in seventh grade.
Jaw tightening, I force my eyes to the floor, sighing as I turn and leave the room.
Sinking onto a barstool at the kitchen island, I drop my head into my hands. What the hell is wrong with me? I wasn ’ t even supposed to be home tonight. I should be at the station, covering for Dave. His husband had planned a surprise for their anniversary at the last minute, but his work called him in, so Dave ended up taking his shift back. I should ’ ve just stayed there.
A door clicks softly down the hall. Footsteps pad into the kitchen.
Kira stops when she sees me, her eyes wide.
“ Kira, ” I say, my tone edged with warning.
What were they thinking?
She turns toward me and immediately starts to apologize. “It won’t happen again, I promise,” she says, worry written in her features.
I sigh, my voice softer now. “I know, it’s okay. I’m not upset with you, but I am a little irritated with Jared.”
She lets out a breath, visibly relaxing. “He can definitely be a handful sometimes,” she laughs.
“About that,” I say. “Are you two…like a thing now?” I’m not sure why I ask. I shouldn’t care. They would be great together. She’s good for him.
“No, we’re definitely just friends,” she answers, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I reply, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and turning to the fridge for water. Closing it, I turn back to face her and catch her eyes on me. She instantly drops her gaze, her cheeks flushed.
“ Listen, I ’ll talk to Jared in the morning about the party, but I understand you guys had a reason to celebrate,” I say, my tone softening. “Now, go to bed, it’s already late.”
She looks at me and rolls her eyes, “Yes, sir.”
My body tenses at those words. She moves to walk away, but I add, “Hey, I’m proud of you. For graduating today, I mean. That’s a pretty big deal,” I tell her. She simply smiles and continues up the stairs to the guest room.
It feels like Kira has always been at Jared’s side.
She brings out a version of him I don’t always see—lighter, less guarded. I watch the way she can nudge him into laughter, the way he turns to her instinctively, trusting that she’ll always be there. He needs that.
Maybe more than he’d admit.
I lean against the counter, rubbing a hand over my jaw. His mom left when he was two. I never told him the worst of it—how I’d fought for her to stay, how I spent years chasing something that was never real. She never wanted this life. Not with me. Not with him.
By the time he was old enough to ask why she was gone, I’d run out of answers.
And maybe I should’ve let it go, but there was always that flicker of something in his eyes, a question he never voiced: Why weren’t we enough?
I exhale, pushing off the counter. It wasn’t just the party that upset me. I wasn’t really mad at Jared for drinking with his friends. He’s grown now.
So why the hell had I snapped at him?
I wake up to the sun streaming in from the curtains in my room. The smell of coffee tells me that I’m not the first one awake. Pulling on some sweatpants and a T-shirt, I open my bedroom door and head downstairs to the kitchen. As I approach, Kira sits at the island, gazing down at her mug. She’s wearing a faded, oversized shirt and tiny pink sleep shorts, her long hair in a knot at the top of her head.
“Morning sleeping beauty, how’re you feeling?” I ask as I walk over to the coffee pot to get my cup, adding a splash of creamer.
“Not too bad,” she responds, smiling up at me, her chestnut eyes meeting mine. “I only had a couple of drinks.”
“You shouldn’t have had any,” I assert, taking a sip.
“I know, I know,” she retorts, her eyes playful.
She’s beautiful like this.
“You hungry for breakfast?” I ask, distracting myself from my thoughts. I already know her answer.
“I’d like my eggs over medium, please!” she squeals as she gets up to help me. I start on the bacon as Kira grabs the bread to make toast.
This is almost a tradition for us. Jared isn’t an early riser, so any time Kira stays over, she helps me make breakfast.
So, why is it that now I can’t seem to keep my eyes off her?
When we finish cooking, I make her plate with her special eggs, buttered toast, and a couple of pieces of bacon— still oinkin’ , as she calls it. I hand it to her, where she’s seated on top of the counter.
“So, I wanted to say that I really am sorry about last night,” she explains, a frown marring her face.
“ Kira, I ’m not upset with you,” I step in front of her, resting a hand on the counter, my fingers grazing her leg. A slow heat spreads up my arm. I know I shouldn ’ t be this close, standing between her open thighs, but she doesn ’ t pull away.
Her gaze lifts to mine. Lips parting. A sharp inhale.
“I promise, I’m not mad—“
“Oh god, I feel like death,” Jared groans from the hallway.
I exhale sharply, stepping back, severing the moment. Jared stumbles into the kitchen, wearing only his plaid pajama pants. Did he see that? No—he ’ s too hungover to notice. He looks like hell and probably feels worse. Not that anything was happening anyway.
“Have too much fun last night?” I ask.
“Oh, shut up.”
“I’d watch that tone if I were you,” I warn.
He drags himself over to the medicine cabinet, grabs two Tylenol, and pops them into his mouth.
I take my plate and sit on one of the barstools away from Kira, “Food is ready if you want some.”
Jared ignores me and moves over to her, leaning into her embrace. She wraps her arms around him, holding him where I was moments ago. Turning her head, she faces me as her eyes meet mine. I glance at where her leg is touching his bare torso. He doesn’t know how lucky he is to have someone like her.
“Okay, I need to get going now. I’m sure you’ll survive the rest of the day without me,” she says, lightly pushing Jared off her.
“ Fine, ” he groans.
Kira goes to the guest room to collect her stuff, leaving Jared and me alone in the kitchen.
“ Listen, ” I turn to look at him. “I don’t appreciate you inviting half of the town over to my house without even giving me a heads-up last night.”
“I can’t do this right now. It wasn’t even that big of a deal,” he says as he picks up his plate and turns to head for his room.
“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you,” I scold.
He keeps walking anyway, a door slamming down the hall. I could go yell at him, but it won’t do anything. Not when he’s like this.
I sigh and gather the plates, dumping them in the sink. As I start loading the dishwasher, Kira strolls back in, her bag slung over her shoulder.
“Good luck with that one,” she tells me, a smile appearing on her face before she walks out the front door. My thoughts drift back to her on the counter, me between her legs. I wanted to touch her, wanted to run my fingers over her thighs.
No, that’s wrong, and it’s never happening.
But the way she looked at me.
I need air.
I haul open the garage door, greeted by my black ’ 70 Nova SS. It doesn ’ t run yet, but it will. I ’ ve had this car since Jared was little—it ’ s my pride and joy. When he was growing up, I never had the time to work on it. Now, with him older, I can finally devote the attention it deserves.
Popping the hood, I get to work, losing myself in the familiarity of the task. Hours slip by. The clock on the wall reminds me I have an actual shift at the station today.
When I arrive at the station, I toss my bag into my locker, settling in for what ’ s likely to be a long night.
“Noah,” the commissioner greets.
“Hey, Al, long time no see,” I joke.
“Dinner ready yet?” he asks.
Rolling my eyes, I head for the kitchen. I ’ ve been a firefighter for fifteen years. Al ’ s been the fire commissioner even longer. He ’ s a no-bullshit kind of guy, which makes him damn good at his job. He ’ s retiring this year. I don ’ t know what we’ll do without him.
I usually handle the cooking when I ’ m on shift—none of the other guys can manage much beyond frozen pizza. Tonight, it ’ s sloppy joes. When the food ’ s ready, I let everyone know, and we settle in to eat.
“Thanks for being willing to cover my shift yesterday. Sorry, I didn’t end up needing it,” Dave tells me, his mouth full of sloppy Joe.
“That’s fine, I don’t mind.”
“How’s your boy doing?” Jeff asks.
“He’s fine, a handful as usual,” I laugh, thinking back to Kira’s comment.
The rest of the shift goes relatively smoothly. We only have a couple of calls during the night, so I am able to get some sleep.
Today, I spend most of my time training and performing preventative maintenance on the trucks.
By the time 6 o’clock rolls around, I’m more than ready to go home, but I need to stop by the store first to grab some groceries for the week. The fridge is looking pretty empty at home.
I push the door open, and a bell rings as I enter the small store. I grab some milk and eggs and place them in the cart. Turning the corner, I notice a familiar mess of long caramel hair stocking the bread aisle.
“ Hey, princess. ”
A loaf of sliced white bread hits the floor.
“Jesus, Noah, you scared me!”
Chuckling, I pick it up and hand it back to her, but she scowls at me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I say.
She sighs, “It’ s fine. I ’m just tired. My shift is almost over, and I honestly can’t wait to climb into bed.”
“Well, I hope the rest of it goes by fast then,” I say as I grab a loaf of bread and set it in the cart.
“Thank you,” she looks up at me with exhaustion in her beautiful features. I feel for her. She’s doing everything on her own at such a young age.
I don’t know how she does it.