Page 23 of No Take Backs
Just like that, my introduction is done. Both the chief and captain walk out of the conference room, effectively leaving us to our own devices.
“Nia.” Ryder Cook, one of the kids from my brother’s graduating class, steps up to our table. “I can’t believe you took Birch’s offer. Wasn’t Bangor offering like twice as much?”
With a laugh, I shake my head. “No, you dork. What did James tell you? They offered me like two more dollars an hour, but that’s it.”
Gem groans next to me. “That’s it? Bangor sucks.”
“I’m glad,” I tell her. “Seriously, it wouldn’t even pay for the trouble or the gas up there and back every day. I’d end up having to move up there, and that shit isn’t happening.”
Reaching under the table, I grab my duffel and nod to Gem. “Can you lead the way? I’m assuming we’re bunking together?”
“Yep.” She gets up after slapping the table. “You losers better figure out what’s for dinner tonight, ’cause Nia’s new, and it was supposed to be Laura’s day to cook.”
A series of groans go up, but I hold up my hand to silence the group. “It’s okay. My sister already told me she’d bring enough food for everyone. As a celebration. Plus, she’s looking for an excuse to harass you guys and make sure that no one fucks with me.”
“Your sister?” An older man, who looks like he could chew me up and spit me out, crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s she bringing?”
“Zip it, Charlie.” Ryder comes to my defense. “Her sister’s the mastermind behind Flare’s menu. You know, the fancy-ass restaurant in Bangor.”
That gets Charlie’s attention, and everyone else’s for that matter.
“Your sister’s a chef?” That comes from a tan man with the most intensely green eyes that I’ve ever seen.
With a nod, I shrug. “She used to be. Once she finally married her husband, she decided to stay home and take care of my niece. Now she just cooks because she loves it. Before you ask, I didn’t bother asking what she was gonna bring. I never question Ella, and she never disappoints.”
Gem is already walking to the door, so I hurry to follow her, not paying attention to where I’m going. Which is how I end up plowing into one of the firefighters.
“Oof.” I step back, tripping over my own feet.
He catches me before I fall on my ass, and I smile up into… Josh’s smirking face.
“What the hell?” The words slip out before I can stop them, a mix of surprise, frustration, and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. There’s an immediate rush of emotions through my body including confusion, irritation, and the unmistakable flutter of something I’ve been trying to suppress ever since our paths crossed again. It’s one thing to run into Josh outside of work, to sit across from him at dinner with friends, but it’s another thing entirely to be standing here, in uniform, on my first day, with him holding on to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Josh doesn’t let go immediately, even though I start to pull away almost as soon as I realize it’s him. There’s a firmness to his grip, a quiet insistence that makes it clear he’s not going to release me until he’s sure I’m steady on my feet. It’s a small gesture, one that would seem harmless to anyone watching, but it sends a jolt of awareness through me that’s hard to ignore. The brief struggle, the way my body instinctively leans into his touch before I catch myself. It’s all too much, too familiar, and too confusing.
Yes, I sat next to him and Kevin at dinner. And yes, I knew that I hadn’t seen the last of him after he called me out on ghosting him after our night together. Especially since he tried to keep it a secret that we slept together, and I dropped it on Kevin like it wasn’t something I’d snuck away from in the dead of night. Or technically the early morning. But that does not mean that I want to see him at work, dressed like every other firefighter in the room.
Struggling to find the words, I settle for the truth. “I thought you were a cop.”
He winks. Right there in the middle of ten men who no doubt see straight through the act I’m putting on. The panicked, breathless bravado that every embarrassed person puts on to cover their ass.
Josh, however, doesn’t let me get away with the act. He steps forward, eliminating the space between us until he is close enough that I can smell the aftershave he has on. The same one he wore the night we were together. And if anyone ever finds out that I've thought about his smell for the last six months, they'll laugh at me.
But I have.
And now, standing here with him so close, it’s like all those thoughts, all those memories, are rushing to the surface, threatening to overwhelm me. I don’t want to be thinking about how good he smells, about how good he felt. Especially not here, not now. But my body has a mind of its own, and no matter how hard I try to push those thoughts away, they linger, taunting me with what could have been, with what might still be.
Almost every single night, as I close my eyes and stare at my ceiling, I think about the way he'd intuitively known exactly what my body needed.
"If you'd stayed long enough to have coffee with me the next morning, I would have told you that was my last night as a cop. Who knows? Maybe if you’d stayed to face the music, last night wouldn’t have been the first time I saw you in six months.” There’s a hint of regret in his tone, a suggestion of what might have been if things had played out differently. His words hit me like a punch to the gut, the casual delivery belying the weight of what he’s saying.
Instead of doing something stupid, like lean into him to get a whiff of his intoxicating scent, I back up a step and then practically run from the room, only to hear his laughter chasing me, followed by the others asking how he knows me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The word echoes in my mind, a frantic mantra as I try to wrap my head around what just happened. This isn’t how I imagined my first day going. Not by a long shot. I wanted to make a good impression, to blend in, to prove that I’m just as capable as anyone else here. But now, thanks to Josh, everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control. I can’t let this, let him, distract me from what I came here to do. I can’t afford to let my guard down, not now, not ever.
I thought my one wild night was behind me. I didn't know how to find him. Okay, that’s a lie. I knew his name, and I looked him up online. I knew where he lived and that he was a cop. But his profile didn't say anything about being a firefighter, or anything about what he does for work. So how was I supposed to know? I wasn't.