Page 36 of Ashes of Us
Made it to my truck without tripping on the stairs. Consider that a win.
Also, you have flour in your hair. Thought you should know.
I laughed and touched the back of my head, finding the telltale dusting of white powder I'd somehow missed.
Professional baker. Very put together.
Most attractive flour-covered person I've ever met.
I set my phone down, still smiling.
It had been a good night. An unexpectedly good night. And for the first time in a year, I wasn't thinking about what I'd lost.
I was thinking about what might be ahead.
CHAPTER 15: LIAM
The bar bit into my palms as I lowered it for the thirty-seventh rep.
Thirty-eight.
Thirty-nine.
My arms were shaking. Good. I needed them to shake. Needed the burn, the distraction, the physical pain that made sense.
Forty.
"Sullivan." O'Brien's voice cut through my count. "You trying to die on that bench or what?"
I racked the bar with a clang that echoed through Station 34's gym. Sat up, chest heaving, sweat dripping onto the rubber mat beneath me.
"Just working out."
"That's not working out. That's punishment." O'Brien leaned against the squat rack, arms crossed. He was older than me by maybe ten years, built like he'd been lifting since birth. "You've been in here every night this week. Sometimes twice a day."
"So?"
"So you're gonna blow out your rotator cuff and be useless on calls." He grabbed a towel from the bench and tossed it at me. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit. You've been weird since Miller's birthday. The cupcakes, right? Someone said you looked like you'd seen a ghost when you saw the box."
I wiped my face with the towel, buying time. O'Brien wasn't wrong. I had been weird. Had been working out until my muscles screamed, taking every overtime shift available, doing anything to avoid sitting still long enough to think.
About vanilla buttercream and a bakery called Rise & Shine. About the fact that Piper was ten minutes away from our old apartment, living the dream I'd told her was too risky, and I hadn't known.
"The cupcakes were from my ex's bakery," I said finally.
O'Brien's eyebrows shot up. "Your ex owns a bakery?"
“She does now, I suppose."
"And you didn't know?"
"I moved two hours away to get away from Riverside. So no, I didn't know." I stood up, grabbed my water bottle. "Can we drop it?"
"Sure." He didn't move. "But for what it's worth, man, you look like shit. Whatever you're running from, it's catching up."
