Washed Up (Bayside Heroes)

“Ready?” I ask.

She seems shaken from thought, forcing a smile as she nods, and then I open my front door for her and lock up behind us.

On the elevator, Amanda blurts out, “Can we keep this thing between us?”

I cock a brow, surprised. “This thing?”

“You know, us hanging out, the list…” She rolls her lips together when I don’t say anything in response. “I just, I’m not sure David would understand it, you know? Us being together without him.”

Her worried eyes say everything she can’t speak out loud.

I scrub a hand back through my hair, hating the burning in my chest that we have to hide — especially when we’re not even doing anything wrong.

“Sure. Of course.”

She breathes a sigh of relief on a smile, popping out of the elevator like nothing happened. But I trail behind her slower than usual, mind racing with what that agreement means.

She doesn’t want to tell him we’re hanging out.

Or anyone, for that matter.

It shouldn’t bother me so much, being a secret, but it damn near eats me alive as she drives me to the hospital.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say when we pull into the employee lot, kicking the passenger side door open with my foot.

“Hey, it’s your car. Thank you.”

I try to smile, but it falls short.

“You okay?” Amanda asks when I’m standing, hand curled around the top of the door.

I blow out a breath through my nose, forcing a smile. I don’t have a right to be upset. I didn’t ask her for anything more than to help me get out of the house more, even if it was a sorry ass excuse to spend time with her.

Maybe part of me thought she was feeling it, too, that there’s something more between us. That there could be more between us, if she would just let me in.

And maybe that’s the most foolish part of me yet.

Because by what she asked, she only sees two things between us — age, and her son.

Neither of which I can change.

“I’m good,” I lie. “Just getting focused.”

She nods on a smile. “Hope it’s a good shift. I’ll text you later.”

With that promise, I shut the door and watch as she pulls out of the parking lot.

On the walk into the hospital, I let my mind go through the motions, let it convince me I’ve made a terrible mistake by proposing this whole deal to Amanda. Then, I somehow convince myself that it’s fine if it doesn’t lead to anything more, that I’ll be cool just being friends with her, with getting to know her a little better.

I can be just her friend.

I can fill the role of the person who helps her live a little, who helps her find someone who will treat her right.

My chest aches just with the thought, fingers curling into fists at my side as I reach the hospital entryway.

But I don’t have the time or ability to think on it anymore, not once I walk into this building. I have to be fully focused.

So, I inhale deep, let it all go, and slip into doctor mode the moment my hand reaches for the handle.

It’ll be fine, I assure myself as I open the door.

And then I laugh.

Because I know that’s nothing more than a sick joke.

CHAPTER EIGHT

GREG

It’s pleasantly warm the morning of the stair climb at Raymond James Stadium, the humidity giving us a slight reprieve from its usual assassination. The place is absolutely packed, squads consisting of mostly firefighters in the area, but also their family and friends spreading out all over the stadium. There are already crews climbing the stadium steps when Amanda and I arrive, and while I look for Asher, she gapes at the activity happening all around us.

She looks gorgeous, the morning light washing rays of gold over her face. Her eyes are hidden behind aviator sunglasses, but her long hair is falling over her shoulders, her ample breasts pulled high and tight in a sports bra under her red tank top. The color blazes against her tan skin, and the black leggings she’s paired with it hug her ass in a way that makes me want to bite my fist and groan, but I somehow manage to just force a breath and tear my eyes away as we walk.

Asher. Look for Asher.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her as we walk through the different squads, firefighters with clipboards zipping to and fro.

“Intimidated.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you every step of the way.” I lean in a little closer as we walk, whispering in her ear. “Every burning, aching, hellish step.”

She elbows me in the ribs, and a breath of a laugh leaves me before I spot Dane near a concession stand in the vendor area.

Dane… and Larsen?

I frown at the sight, confused as to why they’d be together. Then I remember that Dane was assigned to her floor when he started his security gig at the hospital a few weeks ago, and it all starts to click into place.