Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“I am serious.” He playfully tugs her ponytail while shouldering past her and waltzing out the back door, leaving me accountable to confess or lie.
Why would he do that?
I frown, hoping she assumes my flushed face is from him embarrassing me. “It’s true. I just couldn’t help myself.” With a dramatic eye roll, I shake my head. “He hid in here and tried to scare me when I came down from the bathroom.”
Even I don’t believe my excuse. I’m not a good liar. She’s going to know.
After a few seconds, she chuckles. “He’s such an ass.”
I nod a half-dozen times. “A hundred percent.”
“Let’s go grab sandwiches for lunch. Will said he’s starving.”
“Sounds good.” I manage to speak without breathing.
When she turns toward the door, I exhale and nearly pass out from the stress.
“If you need anything else while we’re out, text me,” Maren calls to the guys as I follow her to her car.
Will cuts another piece of siding while Fitz eyes me, wetting his lips to hide his grin.
I’m angry because he’s put me in an awful situation with Maren while I’m still reeling from the kiss. It was everything, yet not nearly enough.
And his confession (they’re all dead) is lodged in my heart like a jagged shard of glass, making it hard to breathe and impossible to extricate.
“How are you and Will fine with not knowing more about Fitz’s situation with his family? His past?” I ask Maren when we get a few blocks away from home.
“I met Fitz through my brother. He told me Fitz’s past wasn’t up for discussion. And when he said it, there wasn’t any humor in his voice. I knew from the look on his face that there was a hard line. I think Brandon knew about Fitz’s past. And I don’t know anyone else who does. Perhaps Gary. But I think my brother took it to his grave. And Fitz is a vault.”
“Why did he tell Brandon but not Will?”
“Brandon and Fitz were cut from the same cloth. Job first, everything else came second. Both loners. Both preferred books to people. Brandon was in the army before he became a firefighter. He never admitted it, but I think he had some PTSD. I think somewhere along the way, he shared things with Fitz that he never shared with me. And I think Fitz felt comfortable opening up to him as well.”
“Aren’t you curious about Fitz’s past?”
“Of course.” She shoots me a glance. “But we all have things we can’t discuss or that trigger emotions we don’t want to feel. So what’s the point in forcing Fitz to talk about something he doesn’t want to talk about? It’s none of my business, and I respect that the way I had to respect my brother’s refusal to open up about his experiences during the time he served in the army.”
Not me. I have an overwhelming urge to dig and pry. I’m not the world’s best friend right now. Maren hasn’t had sex with Fitz. She’s not invested the way I am. As that admission drifts to the forefront of my consciousness, I realize I’m too invested.
I knew I would be.
I tried to prepare my heart.
Still, here I am, unprepared for the inevitable.
After working four days of twelve-hour shifts, I get six hours of sleep and grab a late-morning coffee. Then I find myself headed toward the base. Pulling into the parking lot, I realize I should have made cookies. Instead, I’m showing up empty handed because I haven’t found a second alone with Fitz since last week’s laundry-room kiss.
To my surprise, Gary’s at the front desk talking to Bailey.
“Jamie, what a pleasant surprise. Whatcha up to today?” Gary asks.
“I need to chat with Fitz. But if he’s busy—”
“He’s out back training the rookies. I’m headed that way. Come on.”
I follow Gary past the plane to an open area where they’re running drills.
“Yo, Fitz!”
Fitz supervises a group of men and women in full gear, dropping and rolling into a sawdust pit; he peers over his shoulder.
Gary waves him toward us.
My roommate looks sexy in his green cargo pants, brown boots, and smoke jumper–logo hoodie. He’s also wearing an unreadable expression. I instantly second-guess my decision to come. I don’t know why I assumed he’d be doing nothing and we’d find a private corner to discuss the kiss and other things.
“Jaymes.” When he says my full name, it always sounds like I’m in trouble. I’ve never asked him why he doesn’t call me Jamie. Not that I mind. Jaymes has never sounded better or made me feel sexier.
Gary heads toward the field, leaving us alone.
“Did you bring baked goods?”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together.
“Then what’s up?” He crosses his arms.
Shit.
Why is he asking me that? I’m here because he kissed me, and I want to know if he’ll do it again.