Fuck, I’m a mess.
I don’t even know if I can delude myself into thinking that the three of them don’t notice, considering how closely they’ve been watching me today.
It’s just that I have no idea how to handle any of this—this attraction, these feelings, the line I crossed with Cash and the thought that’s taking up space in the back of my mind that his packmates are jealous and waiting for their turn possibly.
Part of me feels like I made a huge mistake letting it go as far as it did last night. Maybe if we’d only kissed it would be easier to handle, but letting him eat me out was crossing a line that I never cross. But then there’s the part of me that’s been dismissed and ignored for so long, the part that I’ve neglected because there’s always been something else more important to deal with, the part that’s been living such a small fucking life all this time. And that part can’t agree that it was a mistake. That part feels like all of this is worth it.
Because for the first time in a long time, everything else fell away and I was just able tofeel. To feel pleasure after so much pain and emptiness. And it was amazing.
Chapter 21
Harper
The next day, I’m coming around the corner in the bar when I see a folder sitting on the polished wood and Laurina frowning at it.
“What’s that?” I ask her as I walk up.
“A courier brought it. Said it’s for Lincoln, but it’s for the fire department.” She makes a face. “When I explained to him that this isn’t the fire department, he said he didn’t have time to go all the way over there.”
I snort at that. “You know that five minutes was probably so out of his way.”
“Should we just hope Lincoln comes by later to pick it up?”
“No, it might be something important.” I check the time. “My shift’s over in a few minutes. I’ll just run it over there in case it’s something he needs now.”
Laurina nods. “Sounds good. I’ve got the bar covered if you want to just head over there now.”
I leave her to take over and grab my things and the folder, driving the short way to the firehouse.
I pass by it every day, but I’ve never pulled in or stopped. Compared to some of the larger cities, the Silver Falls Firehouseis practically tiny, but I know they do good work. I park and walk in, looking around to see if I can spot Lincoln.
A tall, beefy man in a tank top and jeans walks over to me with a smile. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh hi. I’m looking for Lincoln, is he here?”
He shakes his head. “He’s out on a call, but he should be back soon. Just something minor, so it won’t take long. You’re free to hang around if you want to wait.”
“Sure, thanks.”
He walks off, and I wander deeper into the bay, looking for a place to sit down and wait. The sound of laughing and banter draws me in, and when I walk around one of the trucks, there’s a group of firefighters circling what looks like a makeshift sparring ring.
There’s a pile of mats on the floor, and two of them go at each other, practicing hand-to-hand techniques and trying to throw the other one onto the ground.
The others cheer them on, calling out bets for who’s going to come out on top, and I can’t help but stop and watch. I’d have to be blind to not see how muscular and attractive these men are, and even though I have no interest in them, I can definitely appreciate the view.
One of the firefighters from the circle sees me and breaks away, coming over. “Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s handsome like all the others, with curly dark hair that spills over his forehead and into his eyes a little. His smile lights his whole face up, making him look younger than he probably is. “There’s not an emergency is there?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m just waiting for someone. And then I got distracted by this.”
He grins wider. “We can be pretty distracting. I promise we’re not usually goofing off.”
“I didn’t think you were. I mean, knowing how to defend yourself and keeping strong is probably important for firefighters, right? And it’s very impressive to see this kind of thing in action.”
“Can you stick around and explain that to the captain if we get busted?” he asks, laughing. Then he sticks his hand out for me to shake. “Murphy Coleman.”
“Harper,” I reply, shaking his hand. It’s warm and calloused, and his grip is solid.
“Nice to meet you, Harper. If you’re interested, I could teach you a few moves while you’re waiting.” He jerks his head toward the ring of mats. “Self-defense is for everybody.”