21. Tyler
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
tyler
By ten, the station’s settled into that weird middle ground between dead quiet and one call away from chaos.
The TV murmurs somewhere behind me, somebody flipping channels without watching.
Gear is drying where it got dropped earlier, that faint smell of smoke still clinging to it.
The coffee on the counter has been reheated twice too many times and I know this because my mug is sitting untouched beside me and has been for a while.
I forgot it was there, which tells me everything about where my head is tonight.
I’m leaning back in my chair near the front of the house, boots kicked out, one arm slung over the back like I’ve been there longer than I actually have.
Coop’s halfway through a story he’s already told twice, getting louder with every retelling.
Marco sits at the table rolling a pen between his fingers.
Trick’s stretched out on the couch, phone in one hand, contributing just enough to keep Coop talking.
Normal shift.
“I’m telling you,” Coop says, pointing around the room like he’s addressing a jury. “There is no reason for a grown man to be that confident in flip-flops in February.”
“We’re still talking about this?” Trick asks without looking up.
“We’re talking about it until one of you admits I was right.”
Marco finally looks up from the table.
“You were judging a stranger’s footwear?”
“Wrong. I was judging his survival instincts.”
Coop sits forward.
“Picture it. Twenty-three degrees. Snow everywhere. Guy walks into Dunkin’ wearing cargo shorts, flip-flops, and one of those loud Hawaiian shirts. Orders an iced coffee.”
“So?” Trick asks.
“In February.”
Marco nods once.
“That’s commitment.”
“That’s like every female in New England,” Trick argues.
Coop ignores him.
“So I look at him, because obviously I have questions, and this guy looks me dead in the eye and says…”
He throws both hands in the air.
“...cold’s a mindset.”
I snort.
“He’s not wrong.”
The room goes quiet.
Trick lowers his phone.
“You weren’t listening to a word of that story, were you?”
“Bits and pieces.”
Marco doesn’t even look at Coop.
“He’s got a point.”
“Thank you.”
Coop smiles like he’s won.
“Not you.”
Marco nods toward me.
“You’ve been out of it all day.”
“I have not.”
I snort.
“You let me finish that entire story.”
Coop frowns.
“So?”
“Since when do you not have anything to interject?”
“I was trying something new.”
“It doesn’t suit you.”
I drag a hand over my jaw.
“I’m tired.”
“Bullshit,” Coop says immediately.
“You’ve been off all night,” Trick adds.
“I’ve been here all day—”
I try to play it off.
“That’s not what he means,” Marco says, holding my gaze like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“It’s her.”
“Her who?”
“Don’t play stupid now,” Trick murmurs.
I let out a breath that tips into a laugh.
“You guys are unbelievable.”
Coop sits up.
“Oh, we’re talking about Darcy? Perfect.”
“We’re not talking about anything.”
Trick finally pockets his phone.
“She’s living in your head rent-free, isn’t she?”
I shake my head.
“We’ve just been hanging out.”
“Hanging out?”
“She’s cool.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“No,” Coop says. “Keep going.”
I rub a hand across my jaw.
“She’s…” The word slips out before I can catch it. “...easy.”
Coop studies me for a second, then leans back in his chair.
“Easy,” he repeats.
“I mean easy to be around,” I add, still trying to sound casual.
Trick and Marco look at each other and nod like I’ve just confirmed something.
“Ah,” Coop says with a slow nod. “That clears it right up.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious,” Coop goes on. “You don’t do ’easy.’ You do ’fun for a night’ and then you keep it moving.”
“That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what you do.”
I open my mouth and for what might be the first time realize I don’t have a comeback to that doesn’t sound like complete bullshit.
Marco doesn’t say a word. The look he trades with Trick says they’ve already reached the same conclusion.
Deciding I’m done with this conversation, I reach for my phone instead.
One notification stands out.
Darcy
I’m bored and famished.
I don’t realize I’m doing something stupid with my mouth until Coop calls me out.
“Read something you like, Ty?”
I ignore him and type.
Tyler
Is this you sending me a “u up?” text?
I watch the three dots appear then disappear.
Darcy
Me?! Why I’d never…
Darcy
Unless you’re into it
I can’t help the laugh that slips out.
Tyler
I’m flattered
Tyler
But I’m also working
I stare at the screen for half a second longer than necessary. Then get a crazy idea and type:
Tyler
Come find me.
I look at it, delete it, and type it again. This time I hit send before I can think about it.
The hair on my arms stands up as I wait.
When the fuck did I become a sixteen-year-old texting his first crush?
Behind me, the room has gone suspiciously quiet.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Come back. Stay. I exhale slowly.
“Yeah,” Trick says under his breath. “That’s nothing…”
I don’t bother looking up.
Darcy
Is this you bootycalling me to your firehouse?
My mouth twitches again.
Coop leans so far over the table you’d think he was watching the fourth quarter.
“Answer her,” he whispers.
“Relax.”
Tyler
That depends.
Tyler
You into it?
The dots come back immediately. Then nothing. I shift slightly in the seat, already running through whether I pushed it too far—
Darcy
See you soon.
I lock the phone and drop it to my thigh.
“She’s coming,” I say.
Coop makes a sound between a laugh and a choke.
“No fricken way.”
Trick shakes his head.
“You’re in deep shit now.”
Marco doesn’t sound particularly concerned.
“Where’s Mack?” I ask, trying to sound casual about it.
Marco glances toward Cap’s office.
“Paperwork with Cap,” he checks the clock. “Looks like it could be a while.”
Perfect.
The thought lands before I can pretend I didn’t have it.
Sorry, big bro.
“Right,” I say, pushing to my feet. “I’m gonna—”
“Yeah,” Coop cuts in. “We know exactly what you’re gonna do.”
I shoot him an irritated look that just makes him grin wider.
“You don’t know anything.”
“Mhmm.”
I pull my keys out of my pocket.
“I’m just gonna grab her some dinner.”
“How noble of you.”
“She’s hungry.”
Trick snorts.
“That’s what we’re calling it these days?”
I ignore him.
For half a second I think about shooting Mack a text to give him the heads up. My thumb hovers over my phone.
Then again, it’s not like he can do anything about it. Twenty minutes won’t kill anybody.
“Relax,” I say. “We’ll keep it…professional.”
Coop barks out a laugh.
“Cause that’s reassuring.”
It shouldn’t be.