Page 24 of Slow Burn
I'd barely resigned myself to that idea when the phone I was still clutching buzzed in my hand, my friend's name flashing in big bold letters. Just how discombobulated I was, was evident when I poked the green button without giving it a second thought.
I didn't get a chance to utter a word before a concerned, "What's wrong?" reached my ears.
Admittedly, I felt like an idiot. I'd managed to isolate myself to the point where my family and friends figured the world was ending when they received any form of communication from me.
"Nothing," I finally breathed out. "Just wanted to check in." The familiar squeak of his truck door opening and closing sounded from his side. "Busy?" I asked.
"Nah. Just got to the station." He'd barely said the words when the background noises registered.
A sharp pang of sadness hit me in the center of my chest. I missed it. Firefighting was about so much morethan putting out fires. There was a good reason why a station was called a house. You were a family bound by a mutual love for something so completely fascinating and destructive.
"You still there?" There was a muffled sound that I assumed to be his office door closing when the chattering faded.
"Yeah, still here."
"So," Griffin drawled, his Irish accent curling around the last letter. "You wanna tell me what's up with you?"
I rubbed my chest and turned my head toward the glass door and repeated, "Nothing."
A chuckle floated through the line. "Did you forget who you're talkin' to? We might not be related by blood, but we're brothers still."
"I know."
I heard his voice, but I couldn't make out the words. Even through his closed office door, I heard the distinct sound of the fire alarm. The insistent sharp ringing calling you to action. No doubt, brave men and women were scampering around, throwing their gear on and rushing to get to the rig.
For a fraction of a second, the thrill I always got when I heard that alarm vibrated through my veins. But it was gone just as fast. Taking another part of me with it.
"Ah, shite," he groaned. "I have—"
"Go." The word felt like sandpaper clawing at the inside of my mouth and throat. The bell still ringing in the background like a sledgehammer to the heart.
"Aye," he said softly. "We'll talk later." The line went dead a second after that and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to smash the device in my hand against the nearest wall. I was living in a prison of my own making with absolutely no idea how to escape.
And just like that, the nightmare was back, only this time I was wide awake with nowhere to hide.
12
MADDIE
This is a bad idea.
With one hand clutching the rolls, I stared at the imposing door in front of me. It wasn't so much the door as the man behind it I found intimidating. Cautiously, I eyed Sheldon sitting at my feet.
"Am I being silly?"
His answeringwoofcould've meant anything, but I chose to go with no. I took a deep breath through my nose and slowly released it again. After doing it one more time, I lifted my hand and tapped twice against the wood.
Behind my ribs, my heart started jackhammering as the seconds steadily ticked by. I waited and waited, but no Adam. Turning sideways, my gaze flicked between the door and the gate I'd hobbled through a few moments ago.
Then I slowly faced the door once more and quickly knocked before I could think better of it. Again, I was left staring at an unmoving panel of wood. Feeling dismayed, I looked at the rolls and then at Sheldon. "We'll just leave them here." Hopefully, Adam would find them… eventually.
The thought made me even sadder. Not just because I wouldn't get to see him—which I was inexplicablylooking forward to a lot—but Frankie and I—okay, mostly Frankie—had outdone ourselves.
With a heavy sigh, I bent down to set the rolls down on the ground when the door suddenly flew open; putting me at eye-level with the homeowner's crotch. A crotch covered by a thin pair of light gray athletic shorts that did not leave an awful lot to the imagination.
There was absolutely no way the sudden rush of heat to my cheeks, and some other parts, could be helped. I straightened so fast, I almost threw my back out. And then my lungs collapsed in one fell swoop, breathing almost impossible.
Standing with one hand gripping the door and the other perched on the frame was a very, very delicious looking Adam. His skin glistened; his shirt, the same color as his shorts, a few shades darker where it clung to his sweat-soaked body like a second skin.
