Page 14 of IOU

“Do not let the rookie lie to you, Ainsley. His first kitchen duty ended with us putting out a fire in our own house.”

Kyle’s cheeks redden as his coworker, Luke (super-hot, by the way), ribs him from across the table. “It was the first time we had a fire in the station. We caught shit from the other stations for weeks.”

All the guys laugh, and I feel the need to let Kyle know he isn’t alone. “I set my curtains on fire last night.” I shrug, catching his gaze. “But you probably knew that already. I’m just saying people do it all the time. Set their kitchens on fire, I mean. If they didn’t, I guess they wouldn’t need you guys, huh? Job security and all that.”

The table goes quiet until Luke pushes back in his chair, resting his plate of eggs on his chest, a pretty incredible balancing act to witness. “Tell me, Ainsley, did you at least get a hit in on the prick before we got there?”

It takes me a minute, but I finally understand what he’s referring to. I grin. “You mean, did I hit Tucker before you arrived?”

Luke nods.

“Sadly, no. With all the chaos of the alarms, I just yelled at him, and it wasn’t even a good yell.”

Don’t ask me what a good yell consists of. I doubt I really know, but I feel like it would make me feel better. Like, I wouldn’t still feel this weight sitting on my chest—this sadness that feels like if I just stop for a minute, it’ll take over and consume me.

I look at Bostic and notice his jaw working extra hard, chewing his eggs. I guess I’m done here. I’ve effectively ruined their breakfast. I shovel the last bit of eggs down and push out of my chair. “Thank you for breakfast and”—I finger my wet hair—“the shower.” I look at Bostic. “I promise to find a place today and get my bag out of the storage closet.”

Bostic grunts but doesn’t pull his eyes from the table. “Give Kyle your plate.”

I glance at Kyle, who looks like he’s used to cleaning up the table. “That’s okay. I can wash it.”

“Ainsley. Give Kyle your plate.” He pushes up from the table. “I’ll walk you out.”

Okay. I guess there is no room for arguing. Boss is all boss when we’re at the firehouse. I nod to Luke and the others. “It was nice meeting you all. Thanks for letting me crash your night and your morning.”

Luke is the only one who laughs. “Anytime. We could use some fun around here.”

Or the crazy, but he’s kind enough not to specify.

Bostic guides me down the hall—I certainly haven’t gotten my bearings—and leads me to the parking lot. “You’ll come by for dinner, and I’ll help you take your things to your new place.” It’s not a question. His stare is a warning that I better not sleep in my car again.

“Will do. And if I don’t—”

“You will.”

I wave off his glare and bossy tone. “Let me finish.” Geez. “If I don’t find a place to stay, I promise I will actually call a friend and stay with them.”

One of his eyebrows rises a fraction. He doesn’t believe me. That’s okay because I’m lying.

“I promise,” I add for good measure.

Forgive me. I had to lie to him. I know it’s an awful thing to do to your newfound guardian angel, but the fact is I don’t have any friends to call. If I’m unsuccessful at finding a place today, I’ll have to sleep in my car. I literally do not have anywhere else to go. I’m almost two hours from home: no family, no friends, and no money. I am up shit creek. And really, I could endure one more night in the car. It wasn’t that bad. Now that I know not all the bumps in the night are killers, I’ll sleep much better. Maybe I’ll try the front seat, though, and recline. I doubt the hump in the middle will be any more comfortable than before.

Here’s the thing. I tried. I really, really tried.

“I’m sorry, Ainsley, but we’re full. Maybe try a hotel?”

Lauren is lovely. Don’t get me wrong. She is. But right now, I want to push her down and charge through the door and flop down on her sorority’s couch.

“I don’t have the money for a hotel,” I beg her. “I don’t get paid until Friday.” And she should know that’s a couple of days away. “I just need a place to stay for tonight.”

Have some freaking mercy on my soul.

I’m really the one to blame. I know this. If I didn’t scare off most people, I would have plenty of friends, and this would be a non-issue.

“I’m sorry, Ainsley. I wish I could, but we aren’t allowed guests.”

I can’t believe she was able to keep a straight face. No guests? This is a freaking college, not a nunnery. Isn’t that like a common occurrence to have someone passed out on the floor or the couch on the daily?

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