Page 20 of Branded

The day passes easily with not much to write home about. A few structural fire calls and a fire hydrant mishap, but all in all, no one was hurt in any call we took today. I call that a win.

I’m lying flat on my back in my bunk, listening to the snores of my coworkers around me, now. It’s odd really, how much of a family you become here. I may only work two full shifts a week, but I’m closer with these men than I’ve been with anyone besides Caleb and Finn.

I love my job, but finding sleep on shift isn’t as easy for me as it is for others. I’m on alert, waiting for the alarm to sound that sends us into action. I catch a couple hours here and there, but they’re few and far between.

I usually spend the downtime in my bunk playing cards on my phone, even as lame as that sounds. It keeps me centered and chills my busy mind.

I’m in the middle of a pretty intense round of Solitaire when an incoming text vibrates my phone.

I’m not sure what I’m expecting when I open my text messaging app, but I can honestly say a text from Sawyer was firmly in the “not going to happen” category.

Sawyer: Beg for my number then don’t even call? I’m offended, Mr. Black. :P

I check the time before I respond. It’s nearly two in the morning.

Me: Isn’t it a little past your bedtime?

The little dots showing that she is typing appear almost immediately.

Sawyer: I’m a big girl, mister. I don’t have a bdteem.

Sawyer: bed tome*

Sawyer: SHIT

Sawyer: B E D T I M E

Sawyer: Damn, thumbs.

I laugh as quietly as I can and type out a reply.

Me: Don’t blame your thumbs. I have a feeling there may be a bit of alcohol at play right now.

Sawyer: I will neither confirm nor deny this fact.

Sawyer: So why haven’t you texted me, hmmm? It’s been a whole week.

Me: I’ve been planning my moment. It takes skill.

Her response isn’t as immediate this time, but she eventually replies.

Sawyer: Are you sure you didn’t just change your mind?

Me: Positive. Don’t you trust me?

Sawyer: Not yet. I just know you’re cute and nice to your grandma. It’s hot.

Me: Oh, so you think I’m hot, huh?

The blinking dots never appear again, and after I’ve gotten a bit of sleep and the sun is starting to rise through the bunk area, she still hasn’t replied to me.

Sawyer

“Why did you let me do this?” I plop my head onto my kitchen table while Olivia cooks breakfast for us.

“What? Encourage you to get tequila drunk with me on your living room floor, while I mourn the fact another asshole has decided to ghost me?”

“Yes. Exactly that,” I whine. “My head is killing me.”

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