Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
brODIE
Things feel more straightforward today. A little lighter.
I could argue it’s because I’m better prepared for being in the fire hall.
Coming in with my eyes wide open. It wouldn’t be a lie.
Glimpsing Ladder Eight didn’t send me spiraling into a place of nostalgia and regret like yesterday.
But the more likely explanation starts with an S, has three syllables, and last night unblocked my number.
Coming to a stop in the rec room’s entrance, I only have eyes for the woman in question. She’s at the dining table. Smiling at Romeo. A bite of jealousy gives me a jolt. Not because of Romeo, but because she hasn’t yet smiled with me like that. I immediately commit to making that today’s goal.
Mission: See Savannah smile.
She looks up as I walk over and I go all out with my own killer grin.
She’s startled for a moment, her breath hitching, but before she has a chance to respond, Brock knocks into me.
“You’re looking pleased with yourself, pretty boy. What’s the deal? Is it two for one at Shoppers on all your fancy skincare products?”
“Fuck off, Brock.” I glare at him. “Although, if it was, I’d give you the freebies because jeez you’re looking wrinkly, old man.”
Choke spits out his tea. “Owned, Springer. Totally owned by your baby brother.” He turns to me. “Want breakfast, Brodie?”
“Sure. I came in hungry.” And it helps that I’m not riding the same rollercoaster as yesterday.
He hands me a plate loaded with French toast and bacon. “Maple syrup’s on the table.”
“Thanks.” I take the plate over and choose a space on the bench next to Trip.
He nods hello as he shovels in his last mouthful of food. “Where did you get to yesterday? Thought you’d be coming on callouts with us.”
“Brodie isn’t coming on callouts,” Savannah interjects across the table.
“He will be today.” Kendall strolls into the room.
I catch Savannah frowning at him. “But he doesn’t have any gear, Cap. And I haven’t gone through the basic safety training.”
“It’s all good.” Kendall takes his seat at the head of the table as Choke hands him a cup of coffee. “Brodie and I spent some time together while you were all dealing with the code yellow. He’s set up and ready to go today—right, buddy?” He gestures toward me with his mug.
Savannah’s eyes land on me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Wanted to surprise you.” I try to throw the words out in as casual a way as possible, acutely aware that everyone is once again entirely focused on the two of us.
Savannah humphs out a sigh and turns her attention to her coffee.
“It’s eight thirty, folks. Drills at nine.” Brock rinses off his breakfast plate, placing it in the dishwasher. “You can join us, pretty boy. Show off your shiny new bunker gear.” He dumps his ass next to me, slapping his arm around my shoulder.
I shrug him off. “Happily, old man.”
“You might want to lay off the rest of that, though. It’s hose practice today, baby bro. Things can get physical when you play with the big guns. We wouldn’t want you embarrassing yourself by hurling chunks in front of your girl.”
“Fuck off, Brock.”
“Fuck off, Springer.”
Savannah and I speak as a chorus. She looks over, blue eyes ice-cool.
“Ooh, two peas in a pod.”
“Knock it off, Springer.” Kendall’s voice is stern and a hush descends over the table.
“Sir.”
Kendall scrapes back his chair. “Seeing as though you’re done eating, let’s set up the drills. As for you, Brodie, you can join the crew, but you’re not leading a rollout. It’s too dangerous. Savannah, Brodie’s your responsibility. Keep him safe. Understood?”
“Cap.”
I wait for Kendall and Brock to leave and then cast a glance around the table. “What’s a rollout?”
Romeo shrugs. “Just rolling out a line.”
“As in a hose?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why’s it so dangerous?”
Savannah eyeballs me. “Because you’re not trained.”
“But if it’s just rolling out a hose, that’s easy.”
“Not in a drill like this. It’s dangerous.” She stands, clearing her breakfast things away.
“Forget it, brother.” Trip leans in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “There will be plenty of other ways to impress your girl. The captain’s right on this one.”
Bristling, I push the rest of my breakfast away. “She’s not my girl. And I’m just interested. It’s my job to be interested.” I ignore the voice in my head calling bullshit and watch as everyone peels away to the locker room.
I follow along, dragging my feet. Hearing my dad’s disappointment in my head and smarting at once again being seen as the loser who can’t hack it.
Shrugging into the gear Kendall set me up with, I recite the mantra he drilled into me.
Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. And all the while I try to convince myself I’m more than capable of matching these guys.
I’m totally spinning myself a line. In truth, constrained in a bunker coat, pants, boots, gloves, and a helmet, all of which are heavy and alien on my body, I feel even more fraudulent than when I avoided the action by hiding in the rec room yesterday.
The setup looks so right on the crew. All of them. Including Savannah. On me it feels like I’m a little kid failing in my dad’s clothes.
Trip strolls past. “You look ready for Halloween, brother.”
Romeo laughs, all teeth and Hollywood smile. “Guess you’re no longer the newest probie, East. Enjoy showing Brodie how it’s done.” He taps the top of my helmet like I’m five as he steps outside.
His exit leaves me and Savannah alone. She wanders over, looking me up and down. I wish she wasn’t also masked behind her gear because it’s difficult to read her reaction.
Does she think I look as stupid as I feel?
“You look good.” Even though she clears her throat before she speaks, the words still catch. “How do you feel?”
“Like a turkey at Thanksgiving ready to be shoved in the oven.”
She laughs. At least, I hear the sound of her laugh, but the collar of her damn coat is in the way so I can’t see her accompanying smile.
“Come on, pretty boy, let’s go join the others. And don’t worry, we’ll make your first time one to remember even if you don’t get to hold the hose.” She drops a wink and disappears.
My pulse stumbles over itself.
Okay, there’s no mistaking that. She’s flirting. Definitely flirting. And the timing couldn’t be worse because it makes me want to turn all macho and beat my chest in an effort to prove I can handle this shit.
Throwing back my shoulders, I allow myself a smile and head outside.
The quad is Eight’s open-air training space at the rear of the fire hall, complete with a brick tower and a car that’s seen better days—it’s burned to a crisp. As I make my way round, I catch Choke and Brock engaged in a hushed exchange before Brock hands over a stopwatch and saunters to Savannah.
“East, you’re with me. Choke’s running the drills today.”
She frowns for a moment and then nods. “Ready to set the winning time?”
“Hell yeah.” He winks. At least, in my head he does. All cocky like he’s trying to make some kind of point for my benefit. Either that or I’m still just smarting. And jealous as fuck that my nemesis big brother gets to be like this with Savannah when I don’t.
Choke blows a whistle and takes charge, dictating the scenario and pace.
From what I can tell, the focus is on working in pairs to roll out a hose and extinguish a controlled fire in the car carcass. And because they’re clearly a competitive bunch, the race is on to set the quickest time. Great. Bring on watching Brock lauding it over everyone.
Romeo and Mullet go first and I’m immediately impressed with how focused they become.
Yeah, they’re playing at it being a race, and sure, there’s still some banter peppering their actions, but they aren’t messing around with the equipment.
This isn’t boys playing with their toys.
These are professionals. With drive and determination. Working hard.
The fire’s lit and Mullet smoothly manipulates the hose, rolling it out at speed while Romeo controls its extension. They clock a super quick time, calling out succinct commands to each other as they complete the exercise by extinguishing the flames.
“East. Springer. You’re up next.” Choke’s all business.
I hang back, watching as Brock huddles close to Savannah. She stands on her tiptoes, leaning against his shoulder to say something and he nods, his unending smirk still firmly in place. She then takes up position in the role Mullet had.
She’s small, by far the smallest on the crew, but those muscles I spotted back in Frank’s are clearly not just for show.
I have a vague memory of how heavy the hoses are from when I was a kid, but Savannah comes to life, maneuvering through the quad at lightning speed and unraveling the fifty-foot length with ease.
She’s in her element. Strong and capable, her face a picture of concentration.
And she and Brock work seamlessly. They’re a team and it’s the clearest sign I’ve had so far of how Savannah is treated entirely as an equal.
Within the blink of an eye they’ve completed the task, water flooding the vehicle. They high-five each other, a low-key celebration as Choke clocks their time.
Somewhere, buried deep in the back of my mind, I know I should be logging all this.
It’s gold dust for my article. The way everyone works so smoothly.
Savannah’s resilience meeting pressure with pressure.
The way she’s been entirely accepted as an equal member of the crew.
Unfortunately though, I seem to have left my reporter head back in my apartment because all I’m seeing are Savannah and Brock.
Together. Leaving me seething with envy, my pulse continuing to thud.
Trip bumps my shoulder. “Impressive, am I right?”
I drag my eyes away from Savannah. “Everyone’s doing a great job.”
“Sure. But I have a hunch you’re not interested in everyone.”