“The market is crazy right now. Just save your money while you’re at home. The more you save, the better your chances.” I’m one to talk. I moved out at eighteen.
“Look, my mother just shacked up with her new boyfriend. He’s great, don’t get me wrong, but they need their privacy.” She mock vomits before clarifying. “And I do not need to hear my mother getting rammed against the bedroom wall.” She exaggerates a full-body shiver before slumping back into her seat.
Again, my brain swings right back to Grinder and the sheer number of women and men he’s fucked just since I’ve known him.
“Have you asked around the station?” A lot of the staff there actually room together.
“Yeah, the only one who lives alone is Bryson but he’s not interested in a roomie. To be fair, not only is he too hot for me to live with but he’s giving lowkey stalker vibes.” That’s a weird thing to say.
“Why do you think that?” The light turns green and I slowly drive through the evening traffic, grabbing my lukewarm coffee and taking a healthy sip.
“I’d use up all of my batteries on my toys.”
I spray-spit my drink all over the wheel and windshield, getting sugary coffee up my nose, which causes a coughing spree dangerous enough that I have to pull over at the nearest gas station.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” She starts smacking me on the back and I try to narrow my eyes—wet with a mixture of tears and coffee—at her while begging my lungs to grab onto air so my tombstone doesn’t read: “One coffee too many.”
“You’re an EMT. You should know”—cough cough cough—“slapping my back is totally useless.” Jesus, have I taught her nothing?
“Right, I know, but I feel like I should do something. I’m so sorry, Spence, I didn’t mean to shock you. I figured you hang out with real-life bikers—who, by the way, have a great fucking presence on the socials—so talking about sex is like…normal.”
Once I regain control of my breathing, I wipe my eyes with a tissue and rest my head back.
“Bitch, for the love of my sanity, never speak about…” I use my index finger as a wand and twirl it around her lower area from afar. “That…if I have anything in my mouth.” Thank fuck she’snot Grinder or else that comment would be met with a salacious come back that would make me blush and horny. Or maybe blush because he always makes me horny. It doesn’t come out often but my gay is gaying its best gay-game because this woman needs to understand that some things should be spoken with care. Dildos and vibrators included.
“That’s what he said.” She giggles, and I’m seriously considering kicking her out of the rig and making her walk. Granted, the station is like ten minutes away on foot, but it’s the principle.
“No, Salem. The point is…when my mouth is full, he says nothing. He only moans. And anyway, I was asking about the stalker vibe.” Damn, that one was just too easy.
“On point!" She smirks, her fingers snapping like she’s a real life member of The Addam’s Family. “And as far as stalking? I don’t know. It’s his overall aura and they don’t lie.”
All I can do is stare at her and fight the small smile that wants to escape. There may be a small age gap between us but sometimes—often—it feels like we’re worlds apart. Or maybe I’m just getting old.
“Come on, you Gen Z freak. Let’s get back to the station and taste Bryson’s paella.” My mouth actually waters with my suggestion and any mention of weird feelings about him fly out of my mind. After all, even when it’s not perfect, it’s the perfect comfort food.
“Is that code for oral sex?” Jesus fucking Christ, someone put a muzzle on this one.
“Salem.” One word is all I need because my tone says it the rest.
“Fine. I won’t mention any more sexual activities.” My phone chirps and I see KD pop up but I don’t answer. It’s Kincaid, and if she’s calling me, that means something important is happening.
As we pull up the drive, Salem jumps out, clearly in a better mood so there’s that. Bryson is doing some kind of pull up competition with another fireman so of course I watch. He’s hot, that’s for sure, and I don’t get Salem’s perception of him. All I see is abs for days and it occurs to me that even with all the hotness displayed right in front of me, I have no accelerated breathing, no fire in my belly, no problems with having to hide a hard-on.
Unfortunately, I’ve tasted Grinder. I’ve been touched and held by Grinder. Pursued for almost two years now. Even though nothing has been decided on my end, it’s clear my body has made its decision. Apparently, freezing him out for the last two weeks has no influence on my deep-rooted need for him.
My brain says stepping away is the right decision but the rest of me is too hung up to listen to reason.
I make a beeline for the office where I write my reports quickly before saying my goodbyes and heading straight to my car.
As per our plan, Kincaid rode her bike to my place and walked over to the station where she’s now leaning against my car, waiting.
“You’re late.” I grin at her dry tone, making a show of looking at my watch.
“By a minute.” More like three, to be honest.
“That’s one too many.” Standing straight, she holds out her hand and it’s only after I beep open my car that I realize she’s silently demanding my keys.
“You’re not driving.” I drop my bag into the trunk and when I slam it shut, she’s right there, glaring. “I’m serious, Caidy. You may be some kind of super human, but whether you’ll admit it or not, you’re distracted.”