Chapter 2
Chapter two
Drake
Serena had asked for weird favors before, but dropping off her ex-boyfriend’s shit topped the list.
After a twenty-four shift, I was exhausted as hell and practically dead on my feet, ready to just crash out, but I owed Serena a favor, and she was cashing it in.
And I’d rather get this errand done now than after I got cozy at home or prolonged it for my day off.
Castillo women weren’t to be fucked with, as both of my sisters had proven our entire lives.
I’d swung by Wawa for a coffee and chugged it down as I drove to the address she’d provided.
Why couldn’t she do this herself? I might be the youngest, but I’d leap to my sister’s defense if she’d gotten in trouble with some asshole. From the way she’d talked about the guy she was dating, I hadn’t gotten that vibe, so maybe she just didn’t want to see him again.
The coffee wasn’t doing shit to wake me up, but it helped a little.
At least my shift had been relatively chill.
I’d been on cooking duty, and Dooley and Jacobs were on cleaning, and they were some of my favorite people to work with.
It could’ve been worse—I could’ve been on duty with Hannigan. Fucking hated that guy.
I cracked my jaw with a yawn as I turned onto the road where this ex-boyfriend was supposed to live.
At least this offered a change of pace. My life had become so routine, and I couldn’t say I loved it.
I’d gotten into firefighting thinking the action would keep me engaged, but hell, lately even that had felt same-old, same-old.
It didn’t help that Serena was a lawyer and Blair was a doctor, so I’d never quite escaped the cycle I’d grown up in.
Every accolade, every step forward had already been achieved by one of them.
I just wanted something that belonged to me.
I pulled up in front of the house and yawned again. Sleep would feel so good. The two boxes she’d asked me to deliver were in my backseat, so I snagged the odd array of shit—an air fryer?—and strode up the chipped walkway.
The slap of my footsteps in my heavy boots echoed loudly in my ears. Maybe I should’ve changed out of my sweaty Kennett Fire Company shirt, but if I did that, I’d be heading home, and then I’d be passing out in a bed.
The moment I stepped up to the door, my senses went on high alert.
There was a distinctive scent, one I’d faced so many times in my line of work I couldn’t shut it off. Smoke.
A loud shout came from inside the house.
Instinct kicked in.
I dropped the boxes on the ground and twisted the knob, finding it unlocked, then shoved my way inside the house. Clouds of black smoke poured from the right.
“Shit, shit, shit.” A deep, male voice came from the same direction, and I burst into what was clearly the kitchen to see the glimmer of flames on a stovetop.
“Grab salt,” I called out as I yanked my T-shirt up to cover my nose and mouth.
The guy in front of the stovetop glanced at me, blinking. He held a glass of water in his hand.
“Don’t throw the water. Use salt.” Fuck it. We could discuss later. I marched past him to what looked like a spice rack. The crackle of flames amplified the emergency, as this could quickly expand into a larger fire.
A large iodized salt container lay in front of me. I snagged it, raced back over, and dumped as much as I could over the fire on the stovetop. He let out a shout, and his hand clapped down on my shoulder, but he didn’t yank me back.
The flames sputtered, and I tossed more salt onto the remaining flickers.
My shoulders tensed, my arm poised as I prepared to throw more salt if needed. The few glimmers of flames wavered, more choking, black smoke pouring into the kitchen, but then they zapped out, smothered by the salt.
Coughing sounded beside me.
“Open some windows,” I said, not stopping my vigilance on the pile of salt on his stovetop that had been a grease fire mere moments ago.
“Okay,” he said, followed by coughing splutters.
He went over to the opposite side of the room, and a second later, all the windows were open.
The fresh air pierced through the smog clinging to the kitchen from the fire.
He came to stand beside me and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, who are you?”
A laugh escaped me. Right, I’d just burst into this guy’s house and started barking orders. Even though my gaze didn’t leave the pile of salt, I answered him. “Drake Castillo.”
Silence greeted me.
“Serena’s brother,” I clarified. “She sent me over with your stuff. Which is scattered in your front yard.”
He let out a low whistle and then coughed again. The salt seemed to have done the job, but I’d wait until the open windows cleared out the smoke before we’d start the cleanup.
“Want to have a seat?” he offered, gesturing to the two-seater kitchen table behind us. “I’m August, by the way. I don’t know if Serena mentioned me or not.”
I maintained a chill expression even though inside I winced. She hadn’t. I was aware she had a boyfriend, but the fact she hadn’t brought him home said everything. I took a seat, and he dropped into the other one facing me. “Sorry she couldn’t drop this shit off herself.”
He shrugged. “That’s always the case, right? Let’s be friends never really means that.”
My heart squeezed tight. Shit, I felt like an asshole. Definitely wouldn’t be doing this for my sister again.
August let out a laugh. “Sorry, you’re just the messenger, who happened to swoop in and save me from myself.
” His hazel eyes crinkled, and I got my first good look at the guy my sister had been dating.
He had tousled blond hair, a well-trimmed short beard, and the type of effortless attractiveness that always made me slow down a few paces.
Damn. Normally, my sister and I had opposite tastes in men, but this guy was straight out of my fantasies. About the same height as me, lanky but muscled, and the black-and-gray tattoos down his arms, the metal hoops along his ears. Shit.
I hadn’t gotten laid in far too long, but I wouldn’t hook up with my sister’s ex. It broke every code.
However, looking wasn’t a crime. And besides, chances were he was straight.
“I’d offer you something to eat, but my kitchen’s a war zone at the moment,” he said, running his fingers through his thick hair. The tilt back of his head showcased his Adam’s apple, his neck long and slender. Ngh. “How did you know what to do so fast? I was gonna hurl some water on it.”
I winced. “I know the temptation to hurl water is high, but that’s the last thing to do for a kitchen fire.
A fire extinguisher’s your best bet, but if you don’t have that on hand, salt or baking soda’s next.
” I licked my lips, realizing I hadn’t responded to his question.
“And yeah, I work for Kennett Fire Company.”
August laughed. “I should’ve guessed from the shirt. Firefighter or admin?”
“Firefighter.” The adrenaline of the job had called to me from an early age, and I loved my career, even if life had been a bit rinse and repeat as of late.
“Well, damn. I got lucky then,” he said, his voice the sort of bright and rich that stoked my curiosity.
The salt had quenched the fire as far as I could see, and I pushed up from the seat to do one more check. All clear. “I should get your shit off your front lawn. I tossed it the moment I smelled smoke.”
“Let me help,” August said. “Most of it wasn’t anything I was upset about leaving behind.”
He rose and started towards the door, and his arm brushed against mine.
Sparks rushed through me, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
Clearly, it had been far too long since I’d gotten laid.
I was overdue for a hookup. He didn’t move away, just strode in time with me, mere inches away.
His teeth were white, one slightly crooked that stood out with his lazy smile.
He had a carefree air about him for someone whose kitchen had caught on fire, and I liked that a hell of a lot.
“So, what do you do?” I asked, needing to distract myself somehow.
“For work? For fun?” he asked. “I’ve always found the question so odd. Like, my days don’t just surround my job. I’ve got a steady schedule of cooking, going to shows, and jerking off, but no one wants to hear about that.”
“Hot,” I drawled without meaning to. I blamed my exhaustion for knocking out my filter.
August lifted his brows. “Glad you think so. Most of the time I get called a weirdo. Thankfully, I’m surrounded by them.”
I snorted as I pushed the door open. The fresh air greeted me, and I sucked in a deep inhale. Only a few books and a shirt had escaped the box I’d been carrying, and I scooped them up and passed the box over to him. “Here you go. Unscathed.”
“My dinner plans went up in flames—literally—and I need to air out the kitchen. Do you want to grab a burger—on me? As thanks for saving my house. Rory would’ve killed me.”
“Rory?” I asked. Had he moved on from Serena already?
“My roommate,” he said. “Though he’s been spending more time at his boyfriend’s than at home recently.” A slight shadow dimmed August’s sunshine, his expression falling for a moment, and that struck me in the chest.
“Pining or just lonely?” I asked, my heart thumping a little harder. I had no reason to be invested in his answer, and yet I was.
“Pining over Rory?” August exploded in laughter, leaning forward and slapping his knee. “Oh god. I’ve got to tell him. He’ll die laughing. Nah, just garden-variety loneliness. Breakups will do that to you.”
Right. Lord, I wanted to smack myself. I usually wasn’t this slow on the uptake, but whenever I finished twenty-fours, I got a little drunk on the sleep deprivation. Yet the idea of inhaling a burger before crashing out was tempting as shit.
“Where were you thinking?” I asked.
“For a burger? Normally Zodiac, but I think I want Red Square Diner right now.” August scratched at his stomach, the movement exposing a sliver of skin.
The colors of a tattoo crept around the side, and I wanted to know what else he hid.
I had a few tattoos myself, the bug hitting early, but finding an artist with the right style for my pieces took time.
“Sure, I’ll join,” I said. “I just can’t make it long. Got a bed calling my name.”
“At four in the afternoon?” August wrinkled his nose as he patted down his pockets, the jangle of keys responding. “What are you, eighty?”
I laughed. “Got off twenty-four hours at the firehouse. I’m going to sleep hard.”
August’s eyes widened. “Shit, man. Do you need a bed? You can rest in mine first.”
My mouth watered, and I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper to keep from blurting out what leapt into my head. Because not only had I just met the guy, but he was my sister’s ex. So I needed to keep my filthy thoughts to myself.
“I’ll drive at least,” he said. “Is there anything I need to do about the kitchen before we leave? Any precautions?”
I shook my head. “Might want to let your roommate know in case he’s stopping back home, but you’ve got a draft in there, and the fire is out, so that should clear out the residual smoke.”
“All right,” August said, walking over to his door and locking up. He then jerked a thumb at the bright red Impreza parked in his driveway. “Hop in. I’m taking you out.”
I swallowed hard.
This was a bad idea.
A terrible idea.
And yet, I was going anyway.