their right mind would press charges on someone who acted out of desperation to feel human contact. Desperation to feel something... To feel alive.
Brett didn’t have a chance to reassure Carmichael that he understood why what happened did or that he wasn’t going to be filing a complaint with the Tampa Police Department. The guy disappeared down the stairs before Brett’s mind reengaged enough to form the words.
“Shit,” Brett cursed and took his ass downstairs.
Shift was in full swing when he hit the rec room. Some of the guys on his shift were grabbing coffee at the same time the morning shift guys were refilling their travel mugs that they had brought with them from home to get a jump on their caffeine fix on the drive into the station.
Brett didn’t want any coffee. All he wanted was to go home and forget about the last twenty-four hours that took the prize for his most hellacious shift ever. He said his hellos and goodbyes to his co-workers and felt like he couldn’t escape the confines of the firehouse fast enough. Brett had just opened the door to his Camaro and was climbing in when Flame called out to him.
“Guns & Hoses tonight at seven if you want to hang.” Flame and Brostowski walked behind Brett’s Camaro before they opened the doors to Flame’s jacked up F150.
“Maybe,” Brett replied because his brain was too fried to give any thought to what he would be doing later tonight.
“Austin is chomping at the bit for a rematch,” Flame said once he was seated behind the wheel of his truck.
“I bet he is.” Brett couldn’t help but smile. “Let your cousin know I’m looking forward to it.”
“Will do.”
Flame slammed his truck door shut and Brett climbed into his Camaro. Playing pool with Austin was enjoyable because the guy challenged his skills. Austin challenging his skills was actually something to look forward to and might keep his mind off Carmichael. Keep his mind off the rookie and the kiss they shared in the bay. The kiss that sent fireworks off in Brett’s brain. The fucking kiss that kept replaying in his mind like a DVD on repeat.
Evan wasn’t feeling tired when he walked into his house. He had hit the rack early enough last night and slept straight through until this morning. So, he dropped his work duffel just inside his bedroom door and stripped out of his work clothes. He put on his gym shorts, a tank top, and sneakers.
Even though he could use about five more cups of coffee, he decided the run to the gym would wake him up enough to be able to actually work out. It was and by the time he arrived at the gym, he was ready to start his workout routine.
Now that his body was awake, it seemed his mind followed suit. On the run to the gym, he was focused on putting one foot in front of the other to pound out the distance between his house and the gym. However, now that he was settling into his chest and arms workout his mind turned back to the shit that happened at work yesterday.
Evan wasn’t thinking about the car accident, the suicidal woman, or the burnt teenagers. No, he was thinking about Malone. Thinking about the soft, deep sound of the man’s voice when it finally registered in his mind while he was having his breakdown. He was thinking about the genuine concern in the larger man’s deep chocolate brown eyes when he approached cautiously.
The memory of Malone stepping toward him so slow, as if he were an animal that might suddenly bolt, was front and center in his mind while he pushed the weight away from his chest.
The look of concern that hadn’t even registered when Evan had stood stunned in front of the man became clear as day to him now. Malone’s chiseled features were no longer hard, but instead softened by his obvious worry over Evan’s state.
As Evan pictured the man in his mind, the funny feeling he had felt before made itself known again. The feeling distracted him enough that he didn’t apply enough resistance to the weight bar
Brett didn’t have a chance to reassure Carmichael that he understood why what happened did or that he wasn’t going to be filing a complaint with the Tampa Police Department. The guy disappeared down the stairs before Brett’s mind reengaged enough to form the words.
“Shit,” Brett cursed and took his ass downstairs.
Shift was in full swing when he hit the rec room. Some of the guys on his shift were grabbing coffee at the same time the morning shift guys were refilling their travel mugs that they had brought with them from home to get a jump on their caffeine fix on the drive into the station.
Brett didn’t want any coffee. All he wanted was to go home and forget about the last twenty-four hours that took the prize for his most hellacious shift ever. He said his hellos and goodbyes to his co-workers and felt like he couldn’t escape the confines of the firehouse fast enough. Brett had just opened the door to his Camaro and was climbing in when Flame called out to him.
“Guns & Hoses tonight at seven if you want to hang.” Flame and Brostowski walked behind Brett’s Camaro before they opened the doors to Flame’s jacked up F150.
“Maybe,” Brett replied because his brain was too fried to give any thought to what he would be doing later tonight.
“Austin is chomping at the bit for a rematch,” Flame said once he was seated behind the wheel of his truck.
“I bet he is.” Brett couldn’t help but smile. “Let your cousin know I’m looking forward to it.”
“Will do.”
Flame slammed his truck door shut and Brett climbed into his Camaro. Playing pool with Austin was enjoyable because the guy challenged his skills. Austin challenging his skills was actually something to look forward to and might keep his mind off Carmichael. Keep his mind off the rookie and the kiss they shared in the bay. The kiss that sent fireworks off in Brett’s brain. The fucking kiss that kept replaying in his mind like a DVD on repeat.
Evan wasn’t feeling tired when he walked into his house. He had hit the rack early enough last night and slept straight through until this morning. So, he dropped his work duffel just inside his bedroom door and stripped out of his work clothes. He put on his gym shorts, a tank top, and sneakers.
Even though he could use about five more cups of coffee, he decided the run to the gym would wake him up enough to be able to actually work out. It was and by the time he arrived at the gym, he was ready to start his workout routine.
Now that his body was awake, it seemed his mind followed suit. On the run to the gym, he was focused on putting one foot in front of the other to pound out the distance between his house and the gym. However, now that he was settling into his chest and arms workout his mind turned back to the shit that happened at work yesterday.
Evan wasn’t thinking about the car accident, the suicidal woman, or the burnt teenagers. No, he was thinking about Malone. Thinking about the soft, deep sound of the man’s voice when it finally registered in his mind while he was having his breakdown. He was thinking about the genuine concern in the larger man’s deep chocolate brown eyes when he approached cautiously.
The memory of Malone stepping toward him so slow, as if he were an animal that might suddenly bolt, was front and center in his mind while he pushed the weight away from his chest.
The look of concern that hadn’t even registered when Evan had stood stunned in front of the man became clear as day to him now. Malone’s chiseled features were no longer hard, but instead softened by his obvious worry over Evan’s state.
As Evan pictured the man in his mind, the funny feeling he had felt before made itself known again. The feeling distracted him enough that he didn’t apply enough resistance to the weight bar
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