Page 26 of Breakaway Hearts

“Hey, Firefly.” Reese sounds like he’s driving. I can hear the low hum of the engine in the background. “I’m driving to the arena right now. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, you know,” I breathe. The firefighters are starting to arrange us into groups, checking our IDs. “I think I’ll have to grab a hotel for god knows how long. They’re pretty much evacuating us. But you should be focused on your game. I’ll call you later.”

“You’re not staying at a hotel,” Reese says firmly.

“I don’t really have a choice here.” The police officer who spoke to us earlier guides me toward a group, and I fish out my ID. “My mom lives too far from school. It sucks, but I have to.”

“You’re not,” Reese repeats. “Because you’re moving in with me until this is fixed.”

I don’t respond immediately. I can’t. All that comes out is a huffed breath of air that’s sort of a laugh.

“I’m serious.”

“Don’t joke about this,” I say to him.

“I’m not joking. I’ll text you the name of the moving company that’s coming to pick up your stuff. I already called them and made arrangements for everything. You still remember the code for my spare key, right?”

“Yeah, but Reese—”

“No buts. I’ll see you at my house after the game.”

He hangs up before I can get another word in edgewise. Stubborn man. Super kind, but also annoyingly stubborn.

I can’t stop the light feeling that spreads through my chest though. The unfettered relief. I won’t have to spend an insane amount at a hotel or stay someplace that’s miles away from my school.

I’ll be staying with my best friend.

And fake boyfriend.

That thought makes my stomach swoop a little. It’s too fast, even for a fake relationship. What will everyone else think, not knowing the full story?

We all huddle outside the building as we wait for the firefighters to make sure everything is clear and safe for us to go inside. After a while, the first group enters and then exits the building, and mine is up next. As Reese promised, he texts me the name of a moving company, which will apparently be here in about half an hour. I didn’t have the chance to tell him that that’s completely unnecessary, given the state of the building, but it’s still a sweetly generous gesture from him.

I head up into the apartment, following a firefighter who leads the way. They must’ve caught the fire early, since there’s not a lot of structural damage. But like they told us, the walls are streaked black with smoke, with more than a few scorch marks. I make my way up on the creaky stairs, a sudden fear rising in me at the idea that the apartment building was in a pretty poor state to begin with.

I fumble my key into the lock and enter my apartment, pleased to see that it’s relatively undamaged, although it smells like someone built a campfire in the middle of the room. The firefighter waits outside while I nab the huge suitcase from my closet and start throwing clothes and shoes at random into it. I grab a backpack too, filling it with makeup, toothbrush, shower gel, passport, an emergency stash of cash, and some of my painting supplies. When I finally get to my bookshelf, I spend a few minutes agonizing over the many, many books I want to bring. I definitely can’t take them all with me, at least not right now. Hopefully they’ll allow us access to the building again later to get the rest of our stuff.

“Okay, two books,” I tell myself. “That’s it. That should last you a while. Plus, Reese has some books at his place. Not exactly the type of books you like though. Dammit. Okay, fine.”

Against my better judgment, I pile five books into my arms. I manage to stuff three into my backpack, then put the rest in my school tote bag, which is jam-packed with lesson plans, my laptop, and other miscellaneous school supplies.

On the little bookshelf by the window, I spot the contract Reese and I drew up. The paper looks slightly yellowed, definitely from the smoke, and I finger its edges. I grab it and tuck it between the pages of the book I’m currently reading.

The firefighter that escorted my group knocks on the door a minute later and informs me it’s time to leave so they can get the rest of the tenants through, so I zip my suitcase, sling my tote bag strap and my backpack over my shoulders, and head downstairs.

The moving company is already here, and thankfully, Reese had the good sense to ask for a smaller car that looks more like a pickup truck than the massive ones meant to carry large furniture.

There are two guys waiting by the truck, and I scurry over to them, giving them my name when they ask to confirm the rental. The two men offer sympathetic smiles and haul my suitcase into the back, along with my overstuffed backpack. I clutch my school bag to my chest as they open the backdoor of the truck for me and I hop in.

Driving away from the scene of the fire doesn’t feel like the relief I thought it would. Instead, my stomach tumbles up and down with the nerves of losing my home temporarily and moving in with Reese. It certainly won’t be the first time I’ve stayed the night at his place, but it’s the first time after sharing that kiss.

“Can’t imagine bein’ in your situation, miss,” says the mover driving the truck. “Your boyfriend sure is a good guy.”

“Yeah,” I agree, hoping he can’t see the way my cheeks turn pink. “He sure is.”

The rest of the drive to Reese’s house passes in silence. I’m still not quite sure if I fully grasp the situation I’ve found myself in when the movers park the truck in the driveway, and I hop out to clear the way for them.

While the movers grab my suitcase out of the back, I input the code for Reese’s lockbox, where he keeps a spare key just in case. I’ve had to use it a few times, like when he asked me to stop by his house to water his plants while he was out of town for a couple of away games and his usual house-sitter bailed on him.

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