Page 9 of Undone, Love Times Three

The light from my phone is disturbing people too. There is no way I can sleep so I roll up, grab my hoodie and sneakers and slip quietly out of the sleeping quarters. Once through the heavy door, the bright lights of the firehouse sting my eyes, which had grown accustomed to the dark.

It’s quiet as I make my way to the common room. There is a massive kitchen on one side and the common area where there are four couches, with a TV, and a dining area big enough for the full complement of firefighters on shift. Bathrooms are behind the kitchen. The showers are on the other side of the building, near the sleeping quarters.

It’s not decorated here, but it’s warm and there are some pictures on the walls and rugs on the wooden floor. Digger and Jason are in the kitchen, hunched over plates of food. Not sure why they have to eat like animals instead of going to the table.

I head for the industrial sized fridge and take out a bottle of water.

Digger looks over and asks for one, so I toss him mine then take another.

We chat for a while until Digger needs to use the bathroom. That’s putting it politely. The way these guys talk would make their mothers slap their heads.

“Hey, I forgot to ask, how did the date go?” Jason asks as he cleans their dishes.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, I push up and grab an apple from the fruit bowl. “I thought it went good, had a nice time. Took her a while to loosen up, but we got along okay.”

“You thought it went good? What does that mean?”

Glancing around, I make sure we’re alone. Last thing I need is for the guys to hear me talking about this. I’d never hear the end of it. Jason is married with three little girls. He’s more tolerable than some of the single guys. Especially Colt, my cousin, he’d give me shit no end.

“She’s ghosting me.”

“What?” he shakes water and bubbles off his hands and turns, grabbing a towel.

“Yeah, all my messages are on read since the date.”

“That’s weird, she’s usually glued to her phone. Want me to find out what’s up?”

After a moment, I shake my head. “Nah, man. If she isn’t answering, she didn’t think the same about the date. I’m not gonna pressure or make her feel uncomfortable.”

“Still, that’s bad news man. Who does that?”

“It’s not a big deal,” I shrug again.

Jason watches me for a moment, drying his hands. He tosses the towel on the counter and walks over, slapping my shoulder. “You’ll just have to hook up with one of those chicks throwing themselves at you all the time.”

“Yeah, right,” I smirk.

As he walks away, the smile drops off my face. Hook ups aren’t my thing. I’m looking for a relationship, not a woman whowants to be with me because of what I do. Lifting my phone, the internet is still open on her webpage.

It’s pointless but I flick over to the ‘contact us’ page. My breath stutters when I see her on the page, with a small bio about her. There are pictures of two other women who work there, and one of an older lady, I assume is her Grams.

My lip tilts at the picture of a large tortoise, sitting on the counter in the shop. The three women are standing with him, all smiling. Hell, even Lurch looks like he is smiling at the camera.

It would have been nice to be a part of that. This is just pointless torture, she’s not interested. Still, I stare at her picture again, then go to the short bio.

Wait…

That can’t be right. I read it again. Sylvie Pearson. Why does it say her name is Sylvie Pearson? My first instinct is to question whether she did it to protect herself on a blind date? No, Jason’s wife knows Alison, and she did text me twice before the date. What the fuck is going on?

Before I can go after Jason to ask what he knows, the alarm goes off. We’ve got a fire.

Shit. I close the page down and pocket my phone, running out to the garage where our gear is hung up. Everyone is coming out of wherever they’ve been spending their down time. There is no fooling around now, no worrying about anything else.

All we’re thinking about is getting to this fire. And hoping there is no one in danger. Followed quickly by the adrenalin surge that comes from knowing we’re about to step into danger.

It’s in our blood.

Our lieutenant briefs us, while the call is made that we’re en route to other first responders. Everyone has their role in the rig. I hold my helmet on my lap as the sirens blare through the quiet night.

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