by Emma Nichole
I step back out of his reach and try to shake off whatever effect his touch seems to be having on me and gather my wits.
“One would think you were stalking me and causing these run-ins,” I tease.
“I like to think I’d be a bit smoother than trying to run you over like a bulldozer. I’m just here for the fire drill. Seeing you is a happy bonus though.”
“You think so? I’m sure your girlfriend would disagree.” It’s a stab, to be sure, and even though he said before they weren’t together, I’m still going to poke at him a little.
“Girlfriend?”
“The pretty redhead you were with.”
“Isabelle? She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends.”
“I’m not that cozy with my friends.”
“Then you have the wrong kind of friends.” He smiles and it nearly knocks me off my feet. “Are you a teacher here?”
I have to actively force myself to keep my eyes on his face because the way the T-shirt he’s wearing stretches across his chest and hugs his biceps should be illegal.
“I am. Primarily junior English, but I have an AP class as well.”
“English, huh? That was my least favorite subject in school. I’m more of a science guy myself, but I think if I had an English teacher who looked like you, I would have paid more attention.”
I roll my eyes. “Real smooth. What did your English teacher look like?”
“Mrs. Purdy? Hell, she was in her seventies, probably should have been retired, smelled like old socks and baby powder.”
I laugh louder than I mean to and throw a hand over my mouth. The sound causes everyone to look our way again.
“That was oddly specific.”
“It’s a smell you can’t really forget,” he chuckles.
“I can only imagine.” I shift on my feet a bit. I’ve never been really good at this whole flirting thing, so my mind is telling me to abort now while I’m ahead. “I should probably get back to my class before they go crazy in there.”
“Okay, I should probably go check in with the chief too.” He reaches out to shake my hand, just as he did when we first met. “It was nice seeing you again, Sawyer. Maybe next time, we can try to make sure you remain upright.”
I reach out toward him and place my hand in his, palm to palm, and we shake. The heat of our skin touching is hard to ignore, and so is the fact that he gently caresses the underside of my wrist before we finally break the connection.
“That would be nice.” I begin to back away. “It was nice seeing you too, Isaac.”
I take off up the stairs and back to my classroom.
***
“Don’t think I didn’t see you, young lady,” Olivia says, with an arched brow as we eat lunch in my classroom a couple hours after the fire drill.
I pause with my sandwich midair, halfway between my plate and my mouth. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb. I saw you chatting it up with Hottie McFirefighter in the lobby.” She chomps into a carrot and stares holes through me.
“Oh.” I place my sandwich back down on the plate. “It was a total coincidence. He happened to be here, and I basically ran over him again.”
“He is very attractive, you know,” she says, before sinking her teeth very loudly into another carrot with ranch dotted on the end.
“I do have eyes. It would be pretty hard to deny he is a very attractive man.”
“And judging by the smile on your face and the smile on his, I have to assume he finds you equally as attractive.”
“He’s just being polite.” I wave her off.
“Oh, please. Mr. Jordan holding the door open for us every morning is being polite. Isaac Black is more than polite. He’s laying the groundwork to show you how good he is with his big hose, if you catch my drift.” She holds up her hands, showing me what ten inches could look like.
“Oh my God. What is wrong with you?” I toss a napkin at her.
“I’m brutally honest and you love me.” She puckers her lips. “I gotta be honest, Sawyer, you’ve been here almost a year and you haven’t dated anyone at all. You need to get out there a bit. Have some fun.”
“He’s a firefighter,” I say plainly, to which she sighs heavily.
“I know, I know. You don’t date firefighters.”
“You know why, Liv. It’s too close. It brings back too many bad memories, and those memories aren’t worth a roll in the sack with—”
“A roll in the sack with a six foot three inch, Adonis-like god, who looks like he could dish out orgasms like he was born and bred for it?” she interrupts.
“Why don’t you date him then?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Nah. He’s clearly super into you.” She shakes her head. “Plus, I prefer mine a bit more rough around the edges. I want to be kind of afraid of them, if you know what I mean.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “I know what you mean.”
In any other circumstance, I might look at Isaac and jump at the opportunity to date him, or hell, even just sleep with him, but there is a big glaring thing standing in the way… well… two things.
“He hasn’t even expressed clear interest at all, so I think we are getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” I begin to gather up my trash after glancing at the clock.
“Now you’re just making excuses. No one is saying you need to marry the guy. Just don’t say no before you’ve even considered it.”
“I don’t date firemen, Liv.”
“Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that.”
Isaac
There is nothing better than coming off a twenty-four-hour shift, going home, sleeping like the dead for twelve hours then strolling into the bar, having a couple beers with good friends.
Vin’s Bar is just on the outskirts of Sunnyville, and we’ve been coming here since before we were even old enough to drink. Vin caught us trying to get in with fake IDs, let us in, then served us alcohol-free beer, all the while letting the placebo effect take over then promptly embarrassing the shit out of us. After that, Vin’s became our spot, of sorts. He always let us in and put us at the back table, mostly away from the hustle and bustle of business. I think he wanted to keep us out of trouble, and if we were coming here, he could keep an eye out like a pseudo grandfather.
It’s a small bar, with only dozen tables and bar seating, and dark, hunter green walls. The ceiling is shiny copper with imperfections, dents, and dings. Classic rock croons from the jukebox at the far corner by our table, and my friend, Finn, holds his beer in the air when he catches sight of me. The smell of cheap beer and bar food wafts through the air. I love everything about it.
“There he is. Come on over, princess. Your alcohol is waiting.”
“You’re lucky you’re like my family, you dick,” I say, as I toss my jacket on the back of the chair at the corner table we always occupy when we are here.
“Like your family? I’m offended. I am your family. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have put up with your shit for years.”
Finn has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We met in kindergarten, on the playground, and over time, he has become like the brother I never had, and made being an only child not so tough.
“Where is Caleb?” I lift the bottle of beer to my lips and let the cold liquid wash down my throat. Fuck, that’s good.
“He said he had to finish up grading some papers then he’d be here.” Finn looks over my shoulder then raises his bottle. “Speak of the devil.”
“Sorry I’m late. Chemistry is a big bitch to grade sometimes.” He adjusts his thick-rimmed black glasses as he sits at the third side of the four-sided square table.
Caleb was in our middle school science class. We always made fun of him for being a little on the nerdy side, but I’d be lying if I said Caleb didn’t pull more ass than Finn and I combined times five.
“I just got here. Late call right before my shift ended.”
“Yeah, I tried to find
you when we were heading back inside, but I wasn’t able to,” Caleb says.
“It was a bit hectic on the back end.”
“That’s what she said,” Finn announces proudly before standing. “I’m going to go get another round. Interested?”
Caleb and I both ask for another beer and Finn heads up to the bar to undoubtedly flirt with the new female bartender working tonight.
Talk of being at the school today, obviously, sends my thoughts right back to Sawyer, which seems to be a regular occurrence as of late.
“Hey, Caleb. You work at the high school.”
“Yes, I’m very aware. I’m glad to know we are on the same page with that.”
“Shut up. I just mean, I just realized you may be able to help me with something.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What do you know about a teacher in the English department named Sawyer Westbrook?” I managed to catch a glimpse of the badge that was hanging around her neck, attached to a Marvel Comics lanyard.
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Sawyer Westbrook.” He ponders for a moment. “I haven’t spoken to her much, but I do see her from time to time.”
“Is that it? What’s her story?”
“All I know is that she came here from a school in LA, and she is incredibly attractive. She tends to be the topic of conversation amongst the male students. Why?”
“I ran into her, literally, at the Harvest Festival last weekend, then again at the school today. I wanted to know more about her because clearly the universe wants her in my path or some shit.”
“What are we talking about?” Finn asks, coming back with our beers.
“Isaac is trying to get his dick wet with one of my coworkers,” Caleb jokes.
“Poor girl,” Finn adds.
“I hate you both.” I down the rest of my beer before popping the cap on the new one, tossing it into the bucket at the edge of the table.
Caleb laughs at me then claps me on the shoulder. “Sorry. Sorry. Look, like I said, I don’t really know much other than the things I just told you, and she and another teacher in that department, Olivia Harper, are pretty close. They run the track every afternoon after school.”
“If you wanted a quick lay, you’d call Isabelle. What’s the difference with this girl?” Finn asks.
Isabelle. Even thinking about breaking things off with her makes my chest hurt from guilt. She’s a nice girl. She just isn’t for me long term. I know that’s what she wants, even if she won’t say it outright.
“I’m not sure yet. I just… want to get to know her. That’s all.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle. “And as for Isabelle, I don’t know, man, she’s making it pretty clear she wants more than what we agreed on before. More than clear, actually.”
“And this is a bad thing?” says Caleb.
“With her, it is. I don’t want a relationship, and I know that makes me a goddamn hypocrite as I’m asking about Sawyer Westbrook in the same breath. It’s complicated.”
“Pussy tends to be that way,” Finn says, and Caleb nods his head in agreement.
Chapter 3
Sawyer
“My legs are burning. My chest hurts. I’m way too out of shape for this shit. Why do you make me do this every day?” I whine to Olivia, as we round into our fourth lap around the track.
“Because running is good for you. It is good for mental health, physical health, and it’ll make your thighs and ass iconic. Don’t you want iconic thighs and ass?”
“I’d rather have nonburning lungs.”
“Suck it up, baby. One more lap then we can go have margaritas.”
“Eyes on the margarita prize,” I say, both to myself and to her.
“Atta girl.”
The last lap brings a hot burning in my calves and I honestly think I’m going to collapse, but I press on.
“Home stretch,” Olivia says. “Go hard.”
I look out ahead of me toward our finish line and I can see someone stepping down from the bleachers and onto the track. As we get closer, it becomes more and more apparent who that person is.
“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” Olivia whispers, as we slow to a walk toward the stairs where Isaac Black is standing.
“Okay, it’s just creepy at this point, isn’t it?”
“It’s a small town, Sawyer. It’s not that creepy.”
“I’ve lived here for nearly a year and haven’t seen him one time and now I’ve seen him three times in a week. That’s weird.”
“Or it’s fate.”
Trying to catch my breath from the run, I place my hands on my hips and sigh. “I don’t believe in fate.”
“Better start looking into it,” she whispers, before waving to Isaac. “Well, isn’t this a small world,” she says loudly, as we approach him.
“I thought that was you two,” he says, as he secures his cell phone into the strap on his bicep. He’s wearing black shorts and a white tank top and looks absolutely delicious.
“Stalking us now?” I joke, reaching down for my bottle of water I left by the stairs. I open the bottle and gulp back three large mouthfuls, and it’s not lost on me that he’s staring.
“Couldn’t I ask you the same question?”
“Well, you came to where we are, not the other way around.”
“Maybe I run here all the time.” He crosses his arms and grins.
“No, you don’t. We run every day and I’ve never seen you.” I twist the cap back onto my bottle of water then hold it in the bend of my arm.
“There are other hours in the day, you know? I could run here.”
We stare at each other for a moment then both burst into laughter for no particular reason at all.
“Um, should I just go? Because there seems to be enough flirting here that my services are no longer needed.” Olivia waves her hand.
“No,” I say quickly. “No one was flirting.”
“Are you sure? It felt like flirting to me,” Isaac adds.
“If I was flirting, you’d know it.”
“Well, in that case, I’d like to get the chance to know it. Can I get your number?”
My initial instinct is to say absolutely yes, because he’s kind, charming, and so incredibly cute, but too many factors have wedged themselves into my brain that I just can’t.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell him.
“Why is that? Not that you owe me an explanation but call it morbid curiosity.”
I could tell him the truth, but how does one articulate something like that?
Oh, I don’t want to date you because dating a fireman would constantly remind me of my drug-addicted brother, who burned to death when my house burned down four years ago, plus I have some misplaced rage and hatred toward men in your profession because they saved me and let him die. My therapist says they did everything they could, but hating them is easier than accepting the truth. Sorry!
“I don’t date firemen,” I say simply with a shrug.
“What do you have against firemen?” He leans his shoulder against the fencing that separates the track from the bleachers.
“Bad experience. You’re all the same, and I’m not trying to be someone’s one-night stand.” I try to sound as sure as I can, even though I’m completely making this up as I go.
“That’s a bold assumption that I am trying to sleep with you.” He grins. “Maybe I just want to be your friend.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it, considering all I’ve seen so far is your eyes dropping to my chest when you think I’m not looking.”
“I’m a man who appreciates beauty when it’s presented to him but, Sawyer, I can promise you, I’m not the type of man who would just openly ogle you like a caveman. I prefer to ogle in private where I can touch too.”
I wish I didn’t shiver, in a good way, at the thought of that. I really do, but I’m only human.
Before I can respond to him,
my smartwatch on my wrist vibrates, pulling my attention completely away, flashing an incoming text message from my mom.
“I should go,” I say. “It’s getting late already, and I have a couple things I need to do. Plus, I was promised a margarita.”
“Okay. It was nice seeing you again, Sawyer. Maybe we’ll run into each other again, and maybe then you’ll be a little less stubborn with your phone number. Good to see you too, Olivia.” He nods and steps back out onto the track.
“I have a feeling you’ll make sure we see each other again, Isaac Black,” I tell him.
“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement, Sawyer Westbrook.”
***
No sooner do I slide behind the wheel of my car and turn on the ignition, does my phone ring loudly through the speakers. I accept the call on the steering wheel.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I tried calling you and texting you more than once. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I was out for a run with Liv.” I lean forward and place my forehead on the steering wheel, suddenly feeling every second of that run in my aching muscles.
“I was worried.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Ever since Jason died, my mom has become a bit of a hoverer. Even now, with me pushing thirty years old, she still worries as much as she would if I were a teenager. Losing a child, especially under the circumstances she did, has taken a bit of a toll on her mentally.
“It’s all right. I’m sorry too. You’re an adult, I know that, but you’re still my little girl.”
“Always will be.” I smile a little even though she can’t see me.
“You sound tired.”
“I am exhausted. It was a long day, then adding in the run—when you know I’m not a runner—has wiped me out.” I lift my head from the steering wheel and stare out toward the track. I can see it perfectly from where I am, which means I have an unhindered view of Isaac as he runs.
“It’s good you’re getting out there though. I was worried you’d become somewhat of a hermit when you left Los Angeles. That was so far from home, but at least you had friends there, but now you don’t even look like yourself anymore. You’re a different human being.”
