Authors: Tia Giacalone
“That’s the plan!” I smiled thinly. “NYU, if they’ll have me.”
Chase patted my hand again. “You’ll get in, babe.”
Janice watched our entire interaction with an inscrutable look on her face. “New York? With a small child? Is that… practical?” she asked.
I was used to this question, but not from someone I was trying to win over.
Why is it you need to win her over? We’re adults now, not high school kids.
That little voice popped into my head again, but I ignored it.
“I guess I’ll find out.” I tried to look confident, but I could feel myself starting to wither under her scrutiny.
“I must’ve misunderstood your mother when she told me you’d eventually be running the diner. A shame, really. It’s so nice to have a family business where everyone participates.” Janice remarked.
Nice one.
Both of her children worked in the family auto dealership chain, and she obviously couldn’t understand why I’d want to do anything else but perpetuate the future that had been so kindly provided for me. My parents were indulgent compared to the Dempseys when it came to choosing your own path. And when had she spoken to my mother?
I pretended to be admiring the art displayed over the fireplace so I didn’t have to meet Janice’s eyes, and the conversation continued without me. I should’ve expected this tonight. She knew just enough about me to be curious, and also to inject little pockets of doubt and negativity into my future plans.
Luckily, Chase’s parents saw someone else they needed to talk to and excused themselves. A few more distant acquaintances came by to congratulate Chase on his accomplishments before we were alone again.
“This sucks. Let’s get out of here,” Chase whispered in my ear.
“But this party is for you,” I protested responsibly. “Shouldn’t we stay?”
He laughed. “Do you really want to?”
I shook my head gratefully, he took my hand, and we snuck down the hallway to the cavernous TV room located in one wing of the ranch. I felt like I was in a time warp and we were still teenagers, escaping to the room farthest away from our parents to make out. Chase went behind the wet bar and pulled out a couple beers before joining me on the couch.
He slid closer to kiss me, his lips warm and soft, and I found myself leaning into his kiss again, eagerly this time. His mouth captured mine gently, his tongue tasting me, and we kissed for long minutes on the couch, the only sound our breathing and rustling as we shifted together. I slid a hand around his back and traced my fingers over his shoulders, the muscles tensing under my touch. Chase responded by turning my head and placing my mouth exactly where he wanted it, a low groan in his throat.
I was pleased to feel some of the same spark that used to exist between us. Not full-fledged fireworks but definitely something. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I was completely aware enough to analyze our make-out session instead of being wrapped up in the moment, but I figured there was plenty of time for passion to build. A few minutes later, Chase pulled back, smiling.
“Okay, babe, we can’t get carried away, otherwise I’m gonna need a cold shower.” He laughed and draped an arm over my shoulder. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”
I nodded, pleased that he wanted to take things slow, and he cracked open the beers then reached for the remote. After a few minutes of flipping through the channels, he settled on an Adam Sandler movie, and I let my mind wander.
Being here with him was nice. No, it was more than nice. Nice was your grandma, or clean sheets, or a good parking spot. It was more than nice, but I wasn’t sure what.
Dangerous. Sexy. Exciting. That’s what Beckett Fox was like. My mind flashed to the first time I saw him at the bus depot. I was irritated at myself for thinking of Fox when I should be focusing on Chase, but after rolling it around in my mind for a while, I decided it was out of my control and that I should satisfy my curiosity and be done with it. During the next commercial break, I took the plunge.
“So, tell me a little more about your friend… known him long?” I asked in what I hoped was a casual voice.
“Fox? I don’t know much about him, to be honest. I met him on a Hotshot crew in Washington. He ran us into the ground but he’s fair. That night – that night, after everything, his leg was in bad shape but he still made the saves, and most of us managed to get out of there and back to base.”
Something flickered in his eyes for a moment, but he continued on with a light tone. Chase had only told me bits and pieces about his decision to end his rising firefighting career. I knew a lot of it had to do with the night he spoke of. They were working a fire in the Okanogan-Wenatchee National Forest and came across a few campers. The situation went downhill quickly due to weather and limited resources, and both a civilian and a firefighter had died that night.
“His leg was in bad shape, like I said, so they medevacked him out to a big hospital near Seattle and I hadn’t seen him in months. But we ran into each other as I was settling a few things up near the base. His leg is still giving him problems so he decided to take a little time off and get well. We hung out for a few days and he didn’t have any big plans, so I thought, why the hell not? C’mon home with me and see how we do Texas!”
My mind raced at this new information. Fox was really hurt. Or at least, he had been. He looked to be in perfect physical shape when I met him tonight, but once again, apparently looks were deceiving. An injured wilderness firefighter with no real ties to anything, friends with my new/old boyfriend, and an intense look that made my heart skip a beat. Great. As if my life wasn’t complicated enough.
Chase sprawled back on the couch, tipping his beer into his mouth. He looked so at home in his parents’ living room, like the years hadn’t changed everything three times over. But that was Chase. His carefree nature wasn’t a front, that was him. Even four years of emergencies and infernos would have a hard time changing that.
“He doesn’t have any family? Where is he from?” I pressed, surprising myself.
Real smooth, Avery
. And also… why did I want to know so much about someone I’d met for three seconds?
Because he looked right into your eyes and something shifted
, I admitted to myself. But that can’t happen again.
“Um, he told me his brother and his folks live in California. His dad is a retired General. I think he graduated from UCLA, then headed to CAL FIRE, paramedic training, and on from there.” Chase lowered the beer bottle, his expression curious. “Why so many questions about Fox?”
I laughed nervously. “I’m just trying to figure it all out! You know we don’t have very many new people in town, and he’s your friend, so I want to make sure he feels welcome.”
“Sure babe, that’s nice of you. I saw him talking to Heather, but I’m sure he’s not good enough for Her Highness,” Chase snickered.
Wonderful. Apparently, Chase’s attitude toward Heather hadn’t matured in the last half-decade. In high school, Chase and my best friend had never clicked. He typically wanted to avoid Heather, calling her stuck up and bitchy. I tried to run interference, but Heather hadn’t seemed to mind. “Whatever. He’s just jealous that we spend so much time together when you could be worshipping his throwing arm,” she’d laughed.
Chase shifted on the couch, drawing my attention back to him. He moved his beer to the coffee table and reached for my hands, setting my bottle aside as well.
“I know I’ve been gone for a long time, Avery,” he said seriously, his chocolate eyes looking earnestly into mine. “And I’m real sorry about how I left. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. You understand, right?”
“Um.” Chase had never addressed this in any of our emails aside from just repeating how sorry he was, and I didn’t push it.
“I felt like everything was happening so quickly, you know? College, football… it seemed all planned out already, like I didn’t have any choices left.” He paused and looked away. “Then I met that old smokejumper and he told me I had potential, that I could be something else, something unexpected, on
my
terms. So I left the only way I thought would work, without telling anyone.”
Coward
. The word sprang unbidden to mind. I pulled away slightly, trying to temper my reaction. He hadn’t known how to tell me that we were breaking up, that he was dumping every plan we ever had, so he just didn’t. And now he expected me to say it was fine, when my life had been turned upside down the day he left, and I’d spent the last four years reevaluating everything.
The real answer was yes, it was okay. If Chase had never left, I wouldn’t have Annabelle. She was worth a million heartbreaks, a million desertions. If everything happens for a reason, then Chase would’ve left no matter what, even if he wrote me a hundred goodbye poems or tattooed my name over his heart, because Annabelle was supposed to be here, exactly as she is.
And if Chase is supposed to be my endgame, the love of my life, then he would be, no matter what stupid things came out of his mouth in the meantime, or how many sleepless nights he'd caused me, or all the weeks I'd spent crying after he left. Right?
“It’s okay,” I said softly. I didn’t meant it and it didn’t sound genuine, but Chase didn’t notice. Or maybe he did, and one of us was just better at pretending than the other.
Chapter 5
Despite my best intentions, over the next few days I found myself looking for Fox when I was out and about. My curiosity was at an all-time high but I couldn’t ask Chase any more questions without drawing suspicion.
Honestly, my own motives were fuzzy at this point. I wanted to see him and yet I dreaded seeing him again. No man had sparked that reaction in me… well, ever.
Those feelings are highly inappropriate and completely one-sided
, I told myself sternly. It wasn’t even a crush, it was just a silly hormone thing. Chase was the guy in my life, and he deserved my undivided romantic attention. But that still didn’t stop me from craning my neck around while I ran my errands, hoping for a glimpse of that blond hair.
The first time it happened, I was caught completely off guard, despite my hyper-vigilance. Heather had asked me to help her load and deliver an order for The Kitchen, and we were placing the last boxes of cookies in the backseat of my car when I spied a lone figure loping along the other side of the road toward us.
There was something about the runner’s gait that made me notice him – it wanted to be strong and fluid but there was just a slight hesitation every few strides.
“Is that Fox?” Heather asked from beside me. She shaded her eyes with her hand to get a better look.
My face flushed immediately with recognition. Of course it was. The runner’s sleeveless shirt was damp with sweat, sticking to a well-muscled chest and torso. He had his unmistakeable blond hair tied back, but a bit of it escaped and fell down around his eyes. I tried not to stare as he got closer.
“Hey, Fox!” Heather called, elbowing me in the ribs when I just stood there mutely. It was just as well because even though he barely spared us a wave and a small smile as he ran by, my face flamed a shade of red that had Heather teasing and cackling for what seemed like a solid fifteen minutes.
“What is wrong with you, Avery? Fox got your tongue?” she laughed.
I gave her a half-hearted shove. “Very funny.”
“He sure is cute, and polite, and has that broody dangerous thing going on… Did Chase bring home some competition?” She raised an eyebrow at me.
“Shut up, Heather, and let’s just deliver the damn cookies, okay?” I grumbled.
After that, Fox was everywhere. I saw him running most mornings when I dropped Annabelle off at preschool, and when I picked her up in the afternoons he was doing pull-ups and stretches on the old playground equipment across the street. Brancher didn’t have a proper gym except at the high school, so that seemed reasonable, but it was definitely a hazardous distraction for any passing motorist. I tried not to stare at him while he worked out, but the image of his tanned, defined arms effortlessly lifting and pulling his body weight stuck in my mind the rest of the evening.
When I went past the laundromat on my way to work, I saw him through the window, working on a fancy laptop while he waited for his clothes to dry. I spent half of one waitressing shift wondering what he was doing on that computer instead of filling my orders correctly, prompting Billy to ask me if I was feeling okay. I managed to put Fox out of my mind and finish my tables, but just barely. When Chase came into the diner that afternoon, I lavished affection on him to assuage my guilt then felt guilty about that too.
After a week of seeing Fox around and pretending like I didn’t, I gave in and waved at him outside the coffee hut. He looked surprised at first and then lifted his to-go cup in my direction and smiled. That smile emboldened me, and suddenly I was cramming a lid on my vanilla latte and heading in his direction.
I approached his table cautiously, taking in his laptop, tablet, and smartphone spread out on the surface. The man had every brand-new toy available, apparently. I was suddenly self conscious of the very outdated flip phone in my other hand. Heather was always complaining about my lack of technology; I could barely even text with my old dinosaur.
“Hello, Avery.” Those eyes. Every time with those eyes.
“Fox, hi,” I said shyly. My sudden surge of confidence left me as quickly as it came, and I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.
Fox quickly cleared a space on my end of the table, shoving his laptop and tablet in his backpack and pocketing the phone. “Would you like to sit?”
“Um, okay. Thanks.” I perched on the edge of the chair opposite him and fiddled with the cup in my hands. I could feel his eyes on me, observing in that quiet way he had.
“What are you drinking?” he asked politely after a minute went by and neither of us had said anything.
“A vanilla latte?” It came out as a question, and I laughed at myself. His mouth quirked up on one side, showing a dimple. “A vanilla latte,” I repeated, firmly this time. “You?”