Page 85 of The Fireman and the Flirt

I wokeup early the next morning, tangled in Derek’s arms. It was dark outside. While there was no place else I’d rather be, my bladder had other ideas. I extracted myself from his grip and tiptoed to the bathroom.

After, I went into the living room and found our coats on the floor, thrown there as we’d made our way into the bedroom. I relived those moments in my mind over and over, goosebumps littering my skin each time.

Even though I wanted to get back into bed with him this instant, I couldn’t very well leave our coats on the floor. I wasn’t a neat freak, more like a neat weirdo. I picked up Derek’s thick jacket and threw it over the sofa. A cocktail napkin fluttered out.

When I turned it over, my past collided with my present, a pounding car crash that jolted me out of my afterglow.

As much as I tried to outrun it, gearhead was alive and well.

26

DEREK

Ipulled Cary closer to me, a salve of warmth on this cold, cold morning. But there was no Cary, only his pillows, which were plush. But they weren’t him. Shooting rays of yellow sun slashed through the blinds, catching my eye.

Cary did seem like an early riser, one of those guys who didn’t sleep that much yet were always refreshed. My dick hardened at the thought of us being awake again, so that we could go again. God, I wanted to wrap him in my arms, smell his skin, feel the thick comforter around our naked bodies as I slid inside him.

I slipped on my pair of boxers and headed into the living room. My morning wood was ever present, but I didn’t try and hide it.

Cary was hunched in front of the fridge. I wrapped my arms around him and let my dick poke him hello.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning,” he mumbled back, no reaction to my hug or my poke.

“What’s for breakfast? Did you want to go out?”

“Don’t you have to get home to Jolene?” He kept his head in the fridge searching for something way in the back.

“She’s going to the children’s museum with Russ, Cal, and the boys. I don’t have to be at the firehouse until noon.” In other words, we had time for breakfast and more fucking and lots more cuddling. I didn’t want to take my hands off Cary until the last possible minute. “You probably know some cute brunch place.”

“Not really feeling brunchy today.”

“Fuck it. Let’s just go to Caroline’s.”

I kissed the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Cary stood up and shut the fridge, orange juice in hand. Oddly, his head was still turned away from me.

I spun him around and kissed him good morning. There was a coldness on the other end, like when I was mid-sentence on the phone before I realized the call was disconnected, something that happened a lot in Alaska, land of the dead zones.

“Good morning.” I kissed him again, hoping that was a fluke and the bright, spunky Cary would return.

Yet his eyes darted anywhere but at me, looking for an emergency exit.

“I have some toast if you want it, but I can’t do breakfast today. I have so much to do,” Cary said. I might’ve been out of the dating scene for over a decade, but I still knew a blow off line when I heard one.

What the hell was going on? Did we have different nights last night?

“I’m good on the toast,” I said, waving it off when he offered me the twisted up bag. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Just have a lot to do.”

I began to lean in for a kiss since he was close, but he took a small step backward, then pivoted around me to grab a glass from the cupboard. He was in constant motion, something very noticeable in this small kitchen.

He poured himself orange juice. He’d only taken out one glass.

“I had an amazing time last night. It was a date for the ages.” I winked at him.

Cary nodded tensely, as if he were trying to get through polite conversation. What in the actual fuck?

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