Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Drake
The second we got the call, I launched into action, pulling on all my turnout gear and heading for the truck.
My adrenaline kicked in, but this time, the nerves did too.
The site of the call was Alchemy Ink. August’s job.
Even though I lived in the area and knew plenty of people in it, I wasn’t used to rushing to calls where someone I cared about might be involved. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I sure as fuck didn’t like it.
The sirens blared as Dooley drove, cutting through the streets at top speed. Couldn’t be fast enough.
We’d had a light day, yet it was still consumed with small instances of running out to handle small situations, more rescue efforts than fires. Which was fine by me, as the past few shifts had been exhausting.
A fire alarm had turned on, but the caller hadn’t specified a fire.
I held onto the hope it was just a faulty wire that had tripped or something insignificant.
Was he working? I thought he was working today, but maybe he’d already left.
Still, we couldn’t get there fast enough.
I clutched tight to the bar as we flew through another stoplight, the steady blare of the alarms an internal metric of my own fear. My mouth was dry. Fuck.
Dooley turned a corner hard, and I tightened my hold on the bar.
The last time I’d seen August, he’d been sex and sleep rumpled and splayed out in my bed.
Gorgeous as hell and with an easy smile I wanted to memorize.
The last thing I wanted to see was the flicker of flames when we reached the end of the block. My gut soured. Damn it.
My focus zeroed in on getting to Alchemy Ink as fast as damn possible.
Hannigan stood across from me, not the person I’d have picked to be here while I was having an internal freakout.
He’d been grating all day, and I couldn’t very well tell him the guy I was sort of seeing might be at the building we were headed toward.
My palms grew sweaty inside my gloves, and I closed my eyes, focusing on leveling out my breathing before we arrived on the scene.
The truck braked to a halt.
I launched into action at once. My boots landed on the asphalt with a thud, and I raced around the side of the truck at the same time Dooley emerged from the front. Hannigan’s footsteps thudded behind me as the three of us raced up to assess the scene.
Not a hint of smoke marred the air, which was crisp and clear.
Three figures stood by one of the cars.
Even though my adrenaline was surging, I could see there weren’t any signs of dangerous levels of fire. An older guy approached us with a wave, and the other two followed behind him.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he said the moment he came within range. “I’m Owen, the owner. My employee called when the alarm sounded.”
“Pretty normal protocol,” I joked.
The guy standing behind Owen emerged, and relief slammed full force into me.
August Jones.
Holy shit, he was safe. My shoulders relaxed, even though I hadn’t realized they’d been hiked up.
“Drake, is that you?” he asked as he closed the distance. The urge to crush him to my body and claim those gorgeous lips, rose up fast and fierce inside me. His blond hair was swept to the side, and his meandering saunter was so damn attractive, like he was never in a rush.
“What’s going on with the fire?” Hannigan called out. “We’re not here to chat.”
Fucking asshole.
Owen clutched his nape and ducked his head. “Fucking dumbest reason. I was sneaking a smoke too close to the alarm.”
The woman slapped him on the shoulder. “No one’s going to criticize you for struggling. Stop being all furtive and shit.”
“Furtive is his modus operandi, Nyx,” August joked.
I breathed easier. “So, no fire?”
“No fire,” Owen said. “I’m so sorry for wasting all your time. I’ll donate extra at the next fundraiser.”
Dooley let out a bark of a laugh. “No need to apologize. I’d way rather be here for a mistake than a huge ass fire. You guys do good work. My grandma got her first tattoo with you.”
August stepped closer to me, and even though there were only a few feet between us, it felt like miles. I ached to reach out and wrap him in my arms, to touch him in some way, but we were in front of our coworkers. I wasn’t even sure what he wanted at this point—or what I even wanted.
All I knew was that the draw to him had become so magnetic, I hadn’t been able to stay away.
Even if I’d left more of my sister’s questions unanswered.
“Two fires in a month,” I teased August. “Better put you on a warning registry.”
“Look, the kitchen fire might’ve been my fault, but this wasn’t,” he said, lifting his palms up. “I wasn’t the one secret-smoking in the back.”
“I’m assuming I’m never going to live this down,” Owen muttered.
“Mostly because a. you should know better, and b. none of us are going to give you shit for having a stressful week and caving.” The other tattoo artist passed him a rueful look as she shook her head.
“I’m going to wait in the truck,” Hannigan said, being a brat as he stormed off. Because he couldn’t be professional for a hot second.
“What’s his problem?” the chick asked.
“Existence?” I shrugged. “He’s been a little bitch all day.” Dooley snort-laughed.
“I’m guessing you didn’t get my text?” August asked.
“You guys know each other?” Owen asked, glancing between us, a discerning look in his eyes.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, not knowing how to fill in the blank. “We’re concert buddies.”
“That what they calling it nowadays?” Dooley muttered under his breath.
I elbowed him in the side. He’d caught me texting August a few times and had interrogated me.
Mostly because he was a nosy sonofabitch.
I might’ve caved because Dooley was a good fucking friend, and I needed to talk to someone about this shit.
“Why don’t we go in and inspect the building while we’re here,” I suggested, to avoid the stares on us right now. “Dot the I’s and all that.”
“Hannigan can sulk in the truck,” Dooley said, taking the lead toward the front of the building.
August stepped in line with me, and I made sure to not-accidentally bump elbows with him. He glanced up, an unguarded grin on his gorgeous face that knocked the breath from me. His long lashes, his sprinkling of a few dark freckles despite his tanned skin, and his dimples made my heart race.
“What was in your text?” I asked as we walked in time with each other, and I tried to ignore the stares of his two coworkers behind us. If gossip flew here like it did at the firehouse, they’d be grilling him before we left.
“Ethan was my last client before all this nonsense,” he said, waving his hand around to gesture at the fire alarm still blaring.
The sound was familiar for me at this point, fading to background noise.
I especially didn’t mind when the emergency call ended up being a non-emergency.
Knowing August was safe calmed me, and the severity of my reaction delivered some stronger truths than I was ready to navigate.
Like the fact I really wanted to date him.
“Ethan?” I asked, following Dooley to the back where the alarm was. “One second. We’ll turn this off so we can discuss.”
I stepped up next to Dooley, and we shut off the fire alarm, then checked around the area for any signs of smoke or fire that might’ve gone undetected.
Sure, fire alarms could be triggered for stupid reasons, but occasionally they went off for other reasons, and I didn’t want to put anyone here at risk due to distracted negligence.
The routine calmed me like nothing else.
“All clear,” Dooley said, then glanced to Owen. “Mind if I take a look at the art you’ve got up front?” He passed me a wink, and gratitude soaked through me. Clearly, he was giving me and August a second to catch up.
Dooley, Owen, and Nyx headed up to the front, leaving August and me in the back room.
The air crackled with tension between us.
Fuck it.
I closed the distance between us and slammed my lips to his.
I drank August in like fresh, cool water after a three-alarm fire.
The relief that rushed through me, fast and furious, was telling of how far gone I was for this man.
The way he melted against me, how he met me with the same intensity I’d craved.
August was everything I never thought I’d find, and I hated the circumstances on how we met.
That he was my sister’s ex-boyfriend.
That didn’t stop me from wanting him, body and soul.
I wove my fingers through his hair, our bodies slamming together—at least as much as they could in my turnout gear.
Fuck, he was so pliable, so sweet, so addictive.
August let out a low moan, the vibration reverberating through me.
For the short time since we’d gotten the call, I’d been worried as fuck, and if anything, that cemented these feelings for him weren’t just sprouting to wither—no, they were taking root.
My heart rate slowed as our kisses grew less desperate, and I savored the taste of him, the plushness of his lips. Except I was on the clock, and guaranteed Hannigan was sitting in the truck ready to pitch a fit. I pulled away from him, a sigh escaping me.
“Sorry if I crossed any lines with coworkers,” I offered. “Wasn’t sure how to handle the situation.”
August snorted. “Me neither, so concert buddies works for me. They’re a nosy bunch.”
“What were you going to tell me earlier?”
August’s face burst into a huge smile, radiant like the dawn. “Spring Fires is in. Ethan was my last client, and not only did he speak for the band there, but he said he had a personal reason for wanting to support the firehouse.”
I blinked at August. “No shit, really?” Excitement trickled through me, and I wrapped my hands around his hips and lifted him up. My lips found him again before I settled him on his feet again.
“Well, damn, that was hot,” August said, fanning himself. “We’re the same size.”
I shrugged. “We’ve got to be physically ready for the job. Why, you want me to lift you up some other time?” My voice lowered with intent, and August’s nostrils flared.
“Fuck yes, please,” he said. “I’d probably paint the wall with jizz.”
A bright laugh burst out of me, ones that came easily around him. “Thank you for asking him. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” August said. “You’re passionate about this, and I want to see if the concert fundraiser trumps spaghetti dinner.”
My heart squeezed tightly. He offered his support as if that wasn’t a rare and beautiful thing.
With August, I’d been entertaining a different fantasy as of late—the kind involving evenings together and subsequent sunrises.
Of dinners out and slumping on the couch together after long days.
Of a relationship instead of flings, something I thought wasn’t in the realm of possibility.
“Are you free tomorrow night?” I asked. “I’m done in the morning, need to crash out for a bit, but I’m around after.”
“Yeah, actually,” he said. “What do you have in mind?”
“A date,” I offered, my heart thumping a little harder. He might hate the idea, blanch at it, and I’d just backtrack. But hell, I needed to try. “If you want.”
His eyes widened, those hazel eyes gorgeous, and his grin somehow grew a little brighter. “Yeah, I do. Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
Elation flooded through me.
I leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I have to go before Hannigan storms in to complain, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
This wouldn’t be easy—I still hadn’t addressed the Serena of the situation. But I also wasn’t ready to pass on a chance for more with this gorgeous man either.
Tomorrow, we’d go on a date, and I’d see if this was a false start or could turn into a steady flame.