Page 31 of Burning for Alexander
And in retrospect, it had been criminally fucking stupid.
When I’d gotten out of the hospital in Germany to findDrunkenPoet’s account deleted, I’d have given anything to go back in time and get his phone number, his address. Hell, even just his name.
But it had been too late.
“The only real identifying details I’d picked up from our year of chatting came down to these few clues: his family owns a farm in California that he works for, he graduated college a couple years before we met, which means he’s probably in his late twenties, and he’s close with his family but doesn’t want to be a farmer like they are.”
Kaidee thought about it for a few minutes as we separated our arms and continued making our way up the trail. “So you still have feelings for him. And that’s why you’re not sure if you can move on with anyone, Alex or not, right?”
I nodded.
“Judd… how long has it been since the accident?”
“Four years, one month, and twelve days.”
9
ALEX
DrunkenPoet:Hypothetically, if someone accidentally started a very small fire while using a glue gun, what’s the best way to put it out without calling 911?
IndexEcho:Hypothetically, stop lighting shit on fire. Maybe stop using the gun. What did glue ever do to you anyway?
_____________________
It had beentwo weeks since being on the receiving end of Judd Kincaid’s overly strict safety-consciousness.
Two weeks of feeling the embarrassment of claiming a relationship with a twenty-year-old kid.
Two weeks of waiting to get served some kind of official paperwork declaring me a lying liar who lied on a fire incident report… whatever the hell that would mean. Was there such a thing asfire court?
But nothing happened. No paperwork, no random inspection, and no to-go orders called in by Judd’s perfect girlfriend.
And that was completely fine. Good, even. Because I was busy.
My cousin Hazel was recovering from her accident well, but it had brought half my extended family to town in the process. When I wasn’t dealing with the tourist season at Timber, I was at my grandparents’ lodge, visiting with my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and every other person they’d seemingly attracted from various and sundry encounters over the years. Fortunately, the lodge was completely full with family and visitors, which meant I had an excuse to leave every day or night and return to my apartment over the restaurant.
When I wasn’t busy with work or family, I was trying to make sure Tavo stayed under the radar—both the fire chief’sandthe skeevy judge’s. Thankfully, this seemed to be going okay. When I’d gone upstairs to apologize to Tavo after the confrontation with Judd, I’d caught him telling Ella about it in such a way that the two of them were crying with laughter. On the one hand, it had been good to see Ella laughing after how upset she’d been about Hazel’s accident, and a relief to see that Tavo hadn’t been too frightened by the incident. On the other, it hadn’t beenthatfunny.
And ever since then, Ella had taken to calling me Tavo’s Sugar Daddy, which I did not appreciate.
But after two weeks, I had to admit the truth to myself.
Not seeing Judd Kincaid was exhausting.
I didn’t see him at the Slingshot Showdown. I didn’t see him at the SERA firefighters’ charity bonfire. And I didn’t see him any of the four hundred times I accidentally drove past the station house.
I was tired of not seeing him.
So… I may have set a teensy-tiny, itty-bitty fire and called in an anonymous tip.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Judd roared, slamming thedoor to his vehicle after squealing into my back lot. “Drop the fucking box!”
I looked up from the open cardboard box I was holding carefully. Inside was a celebratory cake with way too many candles on it, but I knew from his angle it looked like whatever was in the box was on fire.
“Why?” I asked, putting on my most innocent face.
“Alex, set the box down carefully and step away.” He moved to his back seat to grab an extinguisher, but before he could pull the latch on it and point it at me, I sucked in a breath.
