Chapter 20
TWENTY
brODIE
I’m pacing again. It seems to have become my signature move.
It’s only been a couple of days, but it feels like forever since I walked with Savannah in the blossoms. Forever since we kissed. Forever since I told her how I never stopped caring.
And Brad would be proud because somehow I’ve managed to access a level of patience that indicates the priesthood would be an excellent backup career for me.
I’ve waited out the time without endlessly FaceTiming her.
Or serenading her outside her apartment block.
Or moving into her bed twenty-four-seven.
All we’ve shared is a couple of succinct messages.
No more kisses. And zero hot horny sex.
I made myself commit to giving her time. To not rushing her with the intensity of my feelings. And I also thought it would be good for me too. Like it would help make me less jumpy in the fire hall while having to pretend I’m not hopelessly in love with her.
But with the clarity of hindsight, I think I may have totally screwed this up because the distance has left me nothing more than a crumbling, lovestruck wreck.
Not touching Savannah today is going to be impossible.
Or kissing her. Or declaring my love for her, over and over.
Which is even more of a living nightmare because those are the only words resting on the tip of my tongue.
I mentally knee myself in the nuts in an effort to break my spiraling thoughts, open the rec room door, and attempt to stroll in as if I’m not the summative parts of total chaos.
“Hey, Brodie! Good to see you, man.” Romeo goes to punch me in the abs, his knockout smile almost blinding me. “How are the ribs?”
“Fine. Not broken.”
“You’re damn lucky.” Trip wanders over, his jaw locked. “That wasn’t cool, brother.”
Yep. He has a right to be pissed. I let him down. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He nods, slapping his arm around my shoulder a little tighter than perhaps necessary. “Hungry? Choke’s made eggs Benny.”
I cast a glance across the room and find my eyes colliding with Savannah’s.
The grin that takes ownership of my mouth is purely instinctive but dies a death when she scowls in return.
Oh god. Maybe I shouldn’t have given us the space.
What if it’s made her realize she doesn’t want me, after all?
That she regrets what happened in the park?
I step toward her, but Brock appears, stopping me in my tracks.
“Hey, baby bro.” He leans in so only I can hear him. “Good to see you with your clothes back where they should be.”
I shove him away and make my way to the table, my focus only on Savannah. She does a stellar job at avoiding my eye contact. My shoulders bunch, stomach churning. Seriously, this whole giving each other time was clearly a huge—
She stands, abruptly. Everyone turns to her like she’s about to make a big announcement.
“Uh… just heading to the washroom.” She darts from the room.
I spend the next thirty seconds racking my brain for a reason to follow her. I’m standing before I’ve taken another breath. “I um…” I glance at all the faces turned to me, eyebrows raised. “I need to speak to Kendall. Is he downstairs?”
Choke nods. “Probably. Want me to save you some food?”
“No. I’m all good today. Thanks, though.” I exit the room, fighting the urge to sprint.
There are two washrooms in the station, the nearest next to where Savannah patched me up after my fight with Brock. I dash to the door and knock.
A split second later the door opens and Savannah pokes her head out. She frowns, checks the corridor, and then drags me in by my shirt, locking us in behind her.
As is par for the course when she’s at work, she’s makeup-free, her hair is pulled into a simple ponytail, and she’s wearing her Hall Eight regulation tee.
I blink, taking her in. She’s absolutely breathtaking. “Hey.”
She still isn’t smiling. “Hey.”
“What’s going on?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who followed me to the washroom.”
“I wanted to see how you are.” I search her face for answers. “And I was worried. Thought maybe something’s changed. That you regret what happened in the park.”
“Do you regret what happened in the park?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Why would you think I regretted things?”
She gives a small shrug. “I don’t know. You only sent me a couple of messages so… I didn’t know what to think.”
“I was giving you time. And space. Thought that’s what we agreed.” My heart’s in my throat. “Did I fuck up?”
Her frown eases a fraction but doesn’t entirely disappear. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
She’s clearly not fine.
“Yeah.” She swallows. “Why did you think I regretted things?”
“Uh…” I cringe, feeling all kinds of foolish. “Because you looked kinda grumpy when I walked into the rec room.”
She shakes her head. “Jesus. We’re like a couple of teenagers.”
I venture a little closer. “I did want to call. I typed and deleted so many messages. Ended up putting my phone in the fridge.”
That gets a laugh. Small. But it’s something.
Capitalizing on the moment, I snake my hands to her hips. “You sure you’re okay? Because if that’s it, I’m ready for us to never have any more time and space apart ever again.”
She shares another brief smile but then drops her gaze, her shoulders still weighed down. “Sorry. Guess I’m a little distracted. Dad messaged again. Just now. With everything that’s been going on between you and me, I’d put next week out of my mind.”
My heart jolts back to a frantic rhythm. “What’s happening next week?”
“My dad’s visit.”
“What visit?”
“I thought I told you.”
I search my brain for whatever it is I appear to have missed.
Because this sounds like I’ve missed something pretty damn fundamental.
“Uh, no? You mentioned having a plan for telling him about grad school and all this—is that what you mean?” I gesture to her uniform and then freeze, joining the dots.
“Fuck. You’re telling him next week? Here, in Vancouver? ”
Her forehead crumples. “Thought that’s what you wanted me to do.”
I swipe at my hair.
Holy shit.
I do want her to tell him. Not for my benefit, for hers.
I want her to be able to celebrate her new life without hiding in the shadows.
To show Aiden Archer just how incredible she is.
But things have changed since we first talked about all this.
We kissed in the blossoms. And I have no idea what Savannah telling him about her change of career will mean for us. For me.
“Brodie, you pointed it out yourself back in Frank’s.
I can’t let this article be the first he hears of my decision.
I have to speak to him at some point, and, well…
” Her lip finds its way between her teeth.
“Thing is, he was already flying over. It’s Mom’s fifteen-year memorial.
He’s hosting a charity gala and is planning to announce some big news about the company. ”
“What kind of news?”
She grimaces like talking about this is causing her physical pain. “News about my role.”
My stomach bottoms out. “What do you mean?”
“That he’s about to start the process of handing over the reins.”
Holy fucking shit.
I step back, my ass knocking into the sink. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
She gives the smallest of shrugs, the blue of her eyes conveying what can only be described as fear. “Guess I’ve been kind of focused on other things. And maybe pretending it’s not happening.”
Another feeling lands, gripping me tight around the throat. Not about me, or connected to my past toxic relationship with her father, but a deep protectiveness of Savannah. I hate that she’s scared. And that she’s been going through all this alone when I’m here to support her.
I tug her to me, wrapping her into my arms. “Sav, you don’t need to be worried about this. You’re the strongest person I know and you’re not alone. I’m right here with you.”
She looks up at me, her tension melting just a fraction.
I gaze into her eyes and then reach into her hair. Freeing it from its bind, I wrap the silky strands around my fingers and then tilt her head back further.
Her lips part and I watch as her tongue runs over them like it’s daring me to do the same.
Fuck it. I can’t control what her dad says or does any more than I could when I was in college.
But I can control how I react to him. And I can protect Savannah by not running this time.
“Just know that whatever happens with your dad, whatever he says or does, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.
We’re a team, Savannah. I…” The urge to spill that I still love her is so acute I do the only thing I can think of to avoid saying it out loud: I crash my lips to hers.
She stumbles against me and then surrenders to the kiss, her body melding with mine like we’re two magnets.
With my one hand remaining locked in her hair, my other massages down her back and over her ass, lifting her leg to wrap it around my hip. I press myself against her, rubbing over her heat. She gasps again and I swallow the sound on my tongue as we continue to move. Closer. Faster. Harder.
Brock’s voice carries through the door like he’s calling out to someone.
I slam back to the present, remembering where we are, and that getting caught is exactly what we’re meant to be avoiding. Especially now we have all this additional stress to manage thanks to Savannah’s dad.
As if she’s having the exact same thought, Savannah also stills. Lightly panting. Her mouth deliciously swollen and red. The blue of her eyes now laced with lust not fear.
I gently release her leg, then her hair, and then steady her on her feet as she steps back.
She straightens her tee and reties her ponytail. “I should head out first. Check it’s all clear. Where did you say you were going when you left the rec room?”
“Kendall.”
“Then you should probably head down there. Give me two minutes.” She presses a kiss to my mouth and then lingers, inches from my face. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For being here.”
I close the gap, unable to not kiss her one more time. “Always.”
She nods and exits the washroom.
Meanwhile, I turn my attention to another problem. Two minutes is not nearly enough time for me to clear my head of all the explicit things I was about to do to Savannah. I’m gonna need the emergency kind of unsexy thoughts. All of them.
Like thinking about her dad being here next week.
Acid creeps into my throat as I hear a tap on the door. Guess the coast is clear.
Arranging my shirt over the front of my jeans, I step into the corridor, grateful for my scruffy tendencies. If my shirt is always crumpled and untucked, and my hair’s always standing on end, there’s no reason anyone will suspect we’ve just been dry-humping in the washroom.
Savannah scurries back to the rec room and I lurch to the stairs.
Linda looks up with a grin. “Brodie! Who have you been fighting today?”
Dammit. I fidget with my shirt. “Uh, no one. Is Kendall in?”
“He sure is. Go right on through.” She winks.
I walk into Kendall’s office and come to an immediate stop. Brock’s in here. I glance from him to Kendall. They can’t possibly know what I was just doing with Savannah, can they?
Kendall nods hello and then gestures to the chair next to my brother. “Brodie, good to see you, son. How are you feeling?”
My jaw locks, him calling me “son” catching me off-guard. “Fine?”
“Springer and I were talking about what happened last week. He wanted to reassure me that there’s nothing going on between you and East.”
My edginess increases. I throw a what the fuck look at Brock, trying to keep my shoulders relaxed. Brock’s focus remains on Kendall.
“My warning still stands. Should the two of you be considering anything, it needs to wait until you’re long gone from this place.
But for now let’s all draw a line in the sand and move forward.
” He sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest like the matter’s closed.
“You joining the crew on callouts today?”
“Um… I guess?” I continue to dart my gaze to Brock, scanning his face for something that explains what’s going on and why he’s trying to help me.
This time, he shares an encouraging nod. Not a smirk. Or a snigger. But a nod. Which makes me even more guarded. The Brock I know would be building up to some kind of twisted punchline right about now. This is just plain weird.
Kendall stands, dusting off his hands. “Think we’re done here. Springer, go check your brother’s gear after last week. Give him a refresher on safety in the apparatus. I don’t want any issues today.”
“Yes, Cap.” Brock stands and gestures for me to do the same.
I scrape back my chair and follow him from Kendall’s office. Only when we’re in the locker room do I fix him with a hard stare. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t be a dick. You’re messing with me. There’s something—”
“Look, don’t get your panties in a wad, little bro.
I’m just looking out for you, okay?” He dashes his hand over his head in a gesture that’s weirdly similar to mine.
The only difference is that his dark hair is too short to mess up.
“You can deny it all you want, but it’s obvious to everyone how you feel about Savannah.
And the fact the two of you just disappeared into the washroom should be enough of a warning that you don’t have any control around her.
I’ve protected you twice now, but I won’t do it again. Get a grip. See this through.”
I gape at him. “What do you mean, you’ve protected me twice?”
“My little chat with the cap this morning. And last week I warned you he was coming, didn’t I? Gave you the chance to get dressed.” He raises his brows in a don’t argue expression.
I frown, piecing things together. “My god, I was right. You didn’t share what you saw.”
“Of course I didn’t.”
I’m still frowning. “But why are you protecting me?”
He chuckles under his breath. “Because as much as it might surprise you, I don’t want you to mess up.”
“Like you did in Seventeen?”
His nostrils flare.
I release an exasperated sigh. “What the hell’s going on, Brock? What happened to make you move fire halls?”
The station alarm blasts.
As I seem to do every time, I nearly hit the ceiling and my brain rattles against my skull.
Brock’s face lights with a grin as he slaps a hand to my chest. “We’ll have to pick this up later, bud. First, it’s showtime. You’ve got around sixty seconds to get yourself kitted out. Remember, slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.”