Page 86 of Light My Fire

Fine. Call her Angel.

That’s what I get for pushing.

Angel is what Luke started calling Brooke. I think he thinks we didn’t notice, which, of course, we did. We noticedeverythinglast weekend.

Or maybe he knows and it’s a dig.

Whatever the case, I’m sorry I texted them.

Angel it is.

I toss my phone aside and lay down on the floor next to the box. “Henley, I think I’m fucked. I can’t get this girl out of my head. What do I do?”

Henley ignores me and pulls the newly named Angel over Licorice so she can groom her.

“It’s not that easy.”

Now I honestly don’t even know who I’m talking to or about what exactly.

The worst part of it is I can’t call Luke or Wyatt to discuss it.

Instead, I pick up my phone and start researching animal rescue facilities in Chicago. I need something to focus on other than Brooke’s sweet smile and her soft cries of pleasure.

CHAPTER 22

Wyatt

ThankGod I’m back to work.

I love my job, but it’s rare that the first day back after a great vacation is my favorite. This time it’s different. I was so damned happy when my alarm went off and woke me up from the dream about Brooke, and I was thrilled to immediately get called to a small structural fire.

After that, we were called to a possible heart attack at a local nursing home. Then we were only back for about thirty minutes when we were called out again to the scene of a three car accident.

I actually wish we could have been even busier. Because every fucking free moment I have, I’m thinking about Brooke. Missing her. Wondering what she’s doing and how she is. Is she thinking about me?Us? If she is thinking about our weekend together? If so, what is she thinking? How is she feeling? Is she okay? It was a very intense weekend, and I miss her, and wish like hell I could call and just hear her voice. I also want to check on her. Physically, it was a lot. Emotionally, it wasreallya lot.

But I haven’t even texted her. Not once. Okay, I’ve typed out texts four times, but I haven’t sent them.

She has her big exams and I don’t want to distract her.

Besides, we left it with a goodbye. We made no plans. She didn’t say, ‘call me’, or ‘text me.’ And she sure hasn’t texted me.

She wanted all three of us. That made it pretty clear that she wasn’t looking for dinner and movie dates with just me.

I’d rather keep the fun, hot as hell, awesome memories from the cabin than make anyone reject anyone else.

“Doherty, you got my back here, right?”

My attention is pulled back to my present situation.

We’re back at the firehouse, and it’s been a couple of hours since our last call. We’re all lounging in the common area with the Racketeers hockey game on TV, and delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

Luke is cooking. And he’s fucking making spaghetti with meat sauce and garlic bread. The fucker.

He couldn’t make literallyanythingelse? I know it’s one of the easiest things to make for a big group, and everyone loves his meat sauce. But we just fucking had it at the cabin. And of course it has me thinking about our weekend. Surely he is too. Right? How could he not? Yeah, he’s made it a million other times, but the most recent time was in Minnesota. With Brooke. How could henotthink about her?

And if he’snotthinking about her, could he fucking tell her that and then she could get over her crush on him and just want to date me?

“You agree with me, right?” Jason Rasmussen asks me.

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