Page 5 of Bullied Pretend Mate
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, examining it as I think. Back in high school, I couldn’t escape the smell of her. No matter which corner of the school she was in, her scent clung to me desperately. And as much as I hoped I’d get used to it, that my brain would filter it out into my background, that neverseemed to happen. Each breath was a reminder of her proximity, driving my body to go find her.
Once, I went into one of those make-your-own perfume places, and I spent the entire time trying to find the mix that was closest to her. Something like black currant, jasmine, and vanilla. Something soft and soothing, yet warm and fresh. Like standing in the middle of a strawberry field, but never picking or eating a strawberry.
Or maybe that’s me projecting. Because her scent has always meant wanting but never getting to have.
Sighing, I swing my legs over the bed, folding myself and forcing my body to get to my feet. I have to be at the firehouse in less than fifteen minutes, but on a nice day like this, I’ll just walk over rather than taking my bike.
When I get to the firehouse, it’s buzzing with activity. Since the fires stopped, Xeran has been on a mission to recruit a lot more guys, train them, and get our force up to snuff. To ensure that if—and, I think,when—the daemon fires return, we’ll have more hands on deck to fight back.
On the left side of the station is a crew of guys repairing the remaining damage from the last big fire that swept through town. They’re installing a massive pane of glass on the side of the building. It will be nice not to have to look at the temporary plywood anymore, and hopefully, this new glass lives up to the promise of being fireproof and shatterproof.
I don’t know how much that means against a daemon fire, which burns at least ten times hotter than a standard fire.
When I get to the kitchen, I find a box of bagels on the counter and grab one that looks good—cinnamon sugar or something—shoving it into my mouth and looking around for cream cheese. I’m just pulling the spoon from my mouth, addingthe cream cheese to the bagel I’ve already started chewing, when Soren walks into the kitchen, shaking his head at me so his copper curls jostle over his forehead.
“Can you find it within yourself to eat like a normal person?”
Lachlan Cambias strolls in right after Soren, smelling like expensive cologne. Under that is the new base scent of him that I’m still getting used to, a solidified mixing of him and Valerie, his mate. They just had their baby, but Lachlan doesn’t look tired at all.
The benefit of having money to throw around—the ability to hire maids and a private chef.
“He can’t,” Lachlan says, throwing a second box on the counter. It’s donuts, and I take one of those, too, stacking a bagel and a donut together and taking a bite.
“Sick,” Soren mutters while Lachlan laughs.
“It’s called ingenuity,” I say, raising my hand to catch a crumb as it falls from my mouth. “You guys are just jealous.”
“What are we doing today?” Lachlan asks after stashing his fancy protein shake in the fridge.
“Don’t know,” Soren says. “Xeran islate.”
“I am not,” Xeran says, walking briskly into the kitchen. “You say that shit about me again, and see what happens.”
“A minute late, boss,” Soren laughs, and Lachlan blocks him in so Xeran can punch him on the shoulder.
“Assholes,” Soren mutters, rubbing his arm.
“Get out there and help those guys with painting the side,” Xeran says, jerking his thumb toward the outside of the fire station.
I move to go with the others, but Xeran holds his hand out, and I stop mid-stride. The look he gives me does not bode well for how the rest of this conversation is about to go.
Lachlan and Soren each give me anoh shitlook before hurrying out of the kitchen, Lachlan reaching back quickly for a donut before he goes. When they’re gone, Xeran levels me with a look.
“Have you given any more thought to what I proposed?”
No, I have not.
In fact, since last Friday, when Xeran first mentioned that he might give me my own squad, having me head up one of the units, I thought it was a joke. And when he wasn’t laughing, I pushed the thought as far out of my head as I possibly could.
So far that when Xeran came in, I wasn’t even sure what he wanted to talk to me about.
“I didn’t think so,” Xeran says, sighing good-naturedly. “I’d like to get you started on the certifications. If you’re going to do it. Just think about it.”
“Alright,” I say, leaning back against the counter, even though I know it’s a lie. “I will.”
“Go join those other guys,” Xeran says, and before I go, he adds, “And Felix?”
“Yeah?”
