Yes, damn it, I left you behind.
“I just think that I should be there. Maybe I made a mistake in taking the job, Tash.”
“Sam, we’re fine. Honest.” She says something to the kids, and then I hear her walking away from them. “Don’t worry about us.”
Of course, I’m going to worry about them.
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind. Maybe it’s not my dream job.”
“Right. And pigs fly. Sam Waters, you’ve been talking about this for years. Now, I want you to take a deep breath and remember how hard you’ve worked over the past few years. You’ve worked your ass off. You put it all on hold for too long. This is a great opportunity for you.”
How does she always know the right thing to say?
“Send me cookies,” I reply softly. She makes the best fucking cookies I’ve ever had.
I can only admit that because my mom is dead and it won’t hurt her feelings.
“I’ll send you all the cookies you want. I should have made some for the road. I guess we’ll just figure this out more and more as time goes on, right?”
I smile at the optimism in her voice.
“Yeah. I guess so. I’ll send you the mailing address when I get there.”
“Are you still bunking with the guy you know?”
“That’s the plan. He’s single, and if I’m only in town a week at a time, most of that at the station, I don’t really see a need to get a place.”
“Well, just get there safely, get settled, and then call me. Sam, it’s going to be awesome, and we’ll be fine. Just think of all the phone sex we can have.”
“That’s a bonus.” I laugh, feeling better. “Thanks for the pep talk, babe.”
“Anytime. The kids are arguing again, so I have to go be the referee. I love you.”
“I love y—” Before I can finish the sentence, she hangs up.
I already miss her. But she’s right, we’ll figure it out. And I’m excited for everything I’m going to learn at this new job.
It’s just nerves.
* * *
“Sam’s the new guy, so he’s buying,” Charlie says with a laugh as we walk into the bar after our shift. The six of us sit at a booth, order massive quantities of wings and beer, and settle in to watch a game and razz each other.
After just two days on the job, this is the new routine.
I’m hardly at my buddy’s place. I’m either at the station, or out with these guys. They’re harmless, and letting off steam is good for us.
Some of the shit I’ve already seen since I’ve been here isn’t for the faint of heart.
“I’ve been the new guy the last two nights, as well,” I remind Charlie, who just grins.
“Doesn’t make you any less of the new guy.”
“I’m not buying you shit,” I respond but clink my beer bottle to his. “You can buy mine. I pulled your ass out of that building this morning.”
His face sobers. “Deal.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see Natasha’s name on the screen. Guilt moves through me.
Aside from a brief conversation the night I arrived, I’ve barely talked to her. It’s been mostly text messages, and even those are few and far between.
It’s not at all what I envisioned when I left her house the other morning.
But I’m busier than I expected. Between calls and training, there just hasn’t been a break.
I send her to voicemail. I wouldn’t be able to hear her if I took the call in here, but I’ll be sure to call her back when we leave.
“Everything okay?” Charlie asks.
“Aside from long-distance relationships sucking ass? Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“If this is the life you want, relationships are hard, period,” Diego says. He has to be fifty, but he’s incredibly fit with a handlebar mustache streaked with silver. “We have crazy hours, and it’s just fucking demanding.”
“I’m used to crazy hours,” I remind him. “And I think some guys can have good relationships.”
“Our job is a mistress,” Diego responds. “And it’s one that most women don’t want to compete with. I live and breathe this job.”
I nod. I know other men in Cunningham Falls with similar philosophies.
But I believe, if you work at it, you can balance both.
The conversation shifts to the football championship happening next month. It falls on my week off, and I’m looking forward to being home for it.
Hell, I’m just looking forward to being home.
I glance down when my phone lights up again and frown.
“Something’s wrong.” I slide out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”
I hurry out the front door to the sidewalk and answer.
“Hey.”
“Hi. I hope you’re not too busy.”
“I was having dinner. What’s up?”
There’s a pause.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Whoa, wait.”
But she’s already hung up.
I take a deep breath and dial her number.