Chapter One
SETH
Why wasthis dude so damn happy all the time? I narrowed my eyes at Zack's back, hoping he could feel my gaze burning into him. Did he have to sing all the fucking time?
I'd been with the Half Moon Lake Fire Department since April, and the guys as a whole were a pretty decent crew. They’d slowly grown on me, but now it was August and some days I still wanted to throttle Zack and the rays of sunshine that shot out of his ass. I couldn't understand how someone could possibly be that... I didn’t even have a word for it. He reminded me of that troll with pink hair from that movie my niece used to watch on repeat.
Shit. I needed to remember to call my brother and wish my niece Dani a happy birthday. She’d be heartbroken if I didn’t. Moving out of Charlotte was the right decision, and while the drive back home was less than two hours, I was still struggling not seeing them as often as I used to.
I turned back to the current game of rummy we were all playing. Jay Mitchell, the youngest guy on the crew, laid down a set of threes. Attempting to tune out Zack’s incessant singing, I assessed the cards in my hand before pulling a six and adding it to my run already on the table.
“You really hate the singing, don't you?” Jay cocked a brow and a slight smirk pulled at his lips.
“I don't understand how it doesn't bother any of you.”
Jay shrugged. “I think at this point we're just used to it.”
I still didn’t get it. But Jay had a two-year-old kid and recently found out he had another one on the way, so maybe he was overly conditioned to unnecessary noise.
Adam chuckled next to me as he laid down a run of four. “We've learned and accepted that Zack is going to be who he is.”
Still contemplating how that translated to tuning Zach out, I ran my fingers over the short beard that lined my jaw. It needed a trim. I’d been surprised to find that this station was more lenient with the no-beard policy than most firehouses were. Even the one I’d been at in Charlotte enforced it. It was one of the things I hated. A beard suited me, but I understood the policy. Here though, as long as I could pass a fit test with my mask, I could keep the beard. It required maintenance and trimming, but it was a solid trade-off. The same rule applied to long hair. As long as I could tie it back or secure it under my helmet, I was good to go.
The chair across from me scraped along the floor as our driver, Logan Murray, pulled it out and sat down. “What are we talking about?”
“Zack,” Jay offered. “And his singing.”
Logan scoffed. “Don't forget the dancing.”
Everyone snickered in unison. Except me. I didn't find it funny. Only annoying.
Don't get me wrong, the dude was a solid firefighter. I had no issue with him. When he wasn't singing or dancing or hopping around like the fucking Energizer bunny.
Adam stiffened in his spot next to me, and I followed his gaze to Lyla—our newest EMT—who’d just exited from the bunk room and was headed down the stairs. She'd been at the station over a month, and even though Adam repeatedly denied liking her, it hadn't stopped the guys from giving him shit about it. I didn't really know the dude that well and even I could tell he was into her.
“You gonna ask her out yet?” Logan cocked a brow.
Adam narrowed his eyes. “No. Like I've told you before, we're just friends.”
“I heard she's dating someone.” Jay leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head.
“Yep.” Adam looked back down, staring intently at his cards.
That one word had so much more behind it, but I had to give the guy credit. He was doing a decent job masking his reaction to Jay’s comment.
The lights on the PA system lit up and we all threw down our cards and pushed our chairs back knowing a call was coming in. The shrill sound of the alarm blasted through the station as we made our way down to the bay.
I mentally reviewed who was where as we went through our routine of stepping into our boots and pulling on our turnout gear. Adam was paired with Lyla today as EMTs, so it was just Logan, Jay, Zack, and me in the rig. Being part of such a small crew was also something I had to get used to. In Charlotte, our shifts consisted of at least eight, sometimes ten people perteam.That was a double-edged sword. The larger house and consistent calls kept my mind and body busy, but at the end of a twelve—sometimes twenty-four—hour shift, I was socially exhausted.
Owen, our lieutenant—who was also being groomed to take over as chief once ours retired—headed out first in one of the utility trucks.
“That's the old Miller farm,” Logan announced as he climbed up into the driver's seat and started the engine on the quint.
“Crap. Hasn't that been abandoned for the last few years?” Jay asked.
“Yup.” Logan pulled the rig out of the bay and switched on the sirens.
I'd actually never seen a quint truck in action before moving here. In Charlotte we had a pumper and a separate aerial ladder truck. But the combination one they had here made sense for a smaller, more rural station.
