Page 51 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
“I knew something was wrong,” Emily says as she squeezes my hand. No words, just warmth, their quiet strength bracketing me.
When I finally manage to breathe, the tears have already betrayed me, sliding hot and unchecked down my cheeks. I swipe at them with the back of my hand, frustrated and embarrassed all at once. I’m not the crying type, and definitelynot in public, surrounded by women I’ve only just begun calling friends.
Rachel’s voice softens, threading through the noise of the gym like a lifeline. “Kate... hey.” She shifts in closer, her sharp edges blunted by concern. “What’s going on?”
I press my lips together, swallowing past the knot wedged in my throat. “It’s nothing. I’m just...tired.”
Emily’s hand squeezes my shoulder, gentle but firm. “It’s not nothing,” she says, her voice as steady as her hand. “You don’t run yourself into the ground like that over a bad night’s sleep.”
Rachel’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Is it Parker? Your family? Work?” She ticks off each question like she’s trying to narrow it down, her tone more mothering than nosy.
The words won’t come. I open my mouth, then close it again, the truth stuck somewhere between breath and nerve.
Emily gives me a sideways nudge. “If it’s a man,” she murmurs lightly, “blink twice. We’ll handle the rest.”
A shaky laugh scrapes out of me, watery and dry. I blink once, then again, slowly and intentionally.
Rachel lets out a soft, knowing sigh. “I figured.” She tilts her head, waiting. “Noah?”
I hesitate, the name balanced on the tip of my tongue. Saying it out loud makes it real and more foolish, somehow.
But I can’t hold it in anymore.
“Yes,” I whisper, barely more than a breath. “It’s Noah.”
Their faces don’t register shock, just quiet understanding, as though they’ve been suspecting that. Neither of them says a word, waiting for me to fill in the rest.
I rub my palms against my leggings, pressing down hard like I could scrub away the sting beneath my skin. “We… slept together.” The confession leaves my mouth in a rush, and I glance away, heat blooming across my cheeks. “And Ihaven’t seen him since. Five days. Nothing. Like it never even happened.”
Silence folds around us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s heavy, the air suddenly growing dense.
Emily’s gaze flicks to Rachel, and they trade a look I can’t quite decipher. Some silent exchange, a conversation stitched between glances that leaves me feeling both seen and shut out.
Rachel leans in, her voice steady but softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Kate… Noah’s not the type to mess around. If he’s keeping his distance, there’s a reason. It’s not about you.”
Emily nods, her hand tightening on mine. “He’s not the hit-it-and-quit-it kind. Trust me. Just give him time.”
Emily’s hand lingers on mine for a moment longer, her thumb giving one last squeeze before she eases back, her voice lifting, casual and breezy, like flipping a switch. “Speaking of giving things time... have you heard about the fundraiser for the fire station? It’s tonight.”
“You’re coming, right?” Rachel backs her up.
The shift catches me off guard. I blink, trying to chase away the last of the tears clinging stubbornly to my lashes. “Fundraiser?” I repeat, my voice hoarse.
Why do I have the feeling that they are intentionally changing the subject?
Emily nods, her ponytail bouncing beneath her cap. “Yeah, over at The Harbor Hall. Someone must have mentioned it, right?”
Lillian had - in that distracted, offhand way she tends to do- somewhere between listing art supplies and Parker’s upcoming class project. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Barely registered it, really.
My mind’s been too busy elsewhere. I’m already shaking my head when Rachel’s voice cuts in, firmer, leaving no room for argument.
“You’re coming.” Her tone isn’t unkind, just matter-of-fact. Like the decision’s already been made, and I’m the last one to catch up.
I let out a soft, uncertain laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve got Parker—”
Emily waves away the excuse before I can finish. “Connor’s on babysitting duty. He, Siobhan, and Maddox will be here anyway, watching the kids while we are at the fundraiser. Parker will be in good hands. Siobhan loves him, apparently. You don’t have to worry.”
I hesitate, another excuse bubbling up. I’m trying to think of every reason to stay home and wallow in the mess of my own head. “I don’t have anything to wear,” I add weakly because it’s the only excuse left standing.
