Lark (First & Forever 5)

I pushed off my light blue sneakers with my toes. Then I pivoted around so I was leaning against the arm of the couch with my knees bent and my feet on the cushion. He followed my lead, neatly tucking his boots under the sofa before moving into the same position.

I slid my feet forward until the tips of our toes touched, and he grinned at my socks. When my shoes were on, all that showed was a light blue stripe around my ankles. But now he could see the cartoon mermen printed on each sock.

“You’re full of surprises.” He showed me what he meant by lightly running one of his feet over a merman.

I nodded at that and said, “Always. I’m all about the unexpected layers. The more you peel away, the more interesting I become.”

“That’s saying a lot, since you’re already fascinating.”

“I don’t know about that, but thanks for the compliment.” As he drank some wine, I toyed with my glass and said, “I have a question for you. Last night in one of your texts, you mentioned how you were inspired by the Oakland Fire Department when you were growing up. So, why’d you get a job here, instead of there?”

“When I applied to become a firefighter at nineteen, I decided I should put a little breathing room between myself and my parents. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful people and we have a great relationship. But I could see them coming by the firehouse all the time to check on me, especially if I stayed in Oakland.

“I was right, too. When I got my first position at twenty, they used to drop by the firehouse unannounced with gifts for the crew, or cookies, or snacks. But since I was in San Francisco, they were only able to do that a couple of times a month, instead of several times a week, which I know they would have done if I’d stayed in my hometown.”

“That was sweet of them, though.”

“It was and they meant well, but it was also embarrassing. I got teased mercilessly by my crew, even though they adored my parents and were thrilled about all the things they brought. I was already the youngest person at the station, and they really didn’t help sell the idea that I was a full-grown, competent adult.”

“I can see how that could be tough.” I started spinning my glass by the stem, which created a tiny vortex in the pink liquid. “So, I have a very important question for you.”

“Okay.”

“As a firefighter, do you really get people’s cats out of trees?”

Dylan chuckled at that and said, “Yes, we do.” He held up his right hand with the outside edge facing me. There was a little question mark-shaped scar on it. “See that? It’s from a bad-tempered calico that I plucked out of a pine tree.”

“I can’t believe you guys are actually out there rescuing kitties.”

“Well, if we have some spare time and someone in the neighborhood needs help with something like that, we try to lend a hand. It’s a way to be a good neighbor.”

He finished his wine, and I snatched the bottle off the coffee table and refilled his glass to the rim. He drank some of it while I went back to making a little wineado in my glass, and I said, “The other stereotype I always hear about firefighters is that they all love to cook.”

“Definitely not true. I happen to love it, but six members of my eight-person crew would rather do literally anything than end up on kitchen duty.” He frowned and added, “I was looking forward to cooking for you tonight.”

I hit him with my best flirty smile and said, “It’s not like this was your only chance ever. Just invite me over again.”

Then I lost control of the wineado. It sloshed onto the front of my sky blue hoodie, and I muttered, “Oops.” I put the glass on the table and stood up as I said, “I should have known I’d do that. I have a bad habit of always needing to fidget with something.”

“Want me to run it through the wash?”

“No thanks. I don’t want you to go through any trouble.” I took off the hoodie and put it with my backpack.

Dylan stood up too and put his glass beside mine. When I turned to him, he was staring. “That’s a very sexy shirt.”

I looked down at my dark red mesh top, which fit like a second skin and was cropped to about three inches below my nipples. Combined with my low-rise jeans, there was a lot of exposed skin all of a sudden.

I grinned at him and said, “I did mention having a lot of unexpected layers, sometimes literally, like with this outfit.”

“You’re gorgeous no matter what you wear, but this is incredibly hot.”

He was still rooted in place, and it seemed like he was unsure about what he should do. I decided to make it easy for him and took a step closer. “You can touch me,” I said, as seductively as I could. “In fact, you can do anything you want.”

Dylan hesitated before slipping his hands around my waist. I tossed aside my baseball cap and leaned into him, and he buried his face in my hair. He was clearly getting more turned on by the minute, but he was holding himself back.

It was obvious he was struggling with something, probably the same thing that had made him run off after we kissed on New Year’s. I really didn’t know what it was, but I assumed he’d tell me when he was ready. For now, maybe he just needed a little encouragement.

I pressed myself against him and kissed his neck as I ran my hands up his back. Something about that finally flipped a switch. In the next instant, Dylan won—or lost—whatever internal battle he’d been struggling with and grabbed me with both hands.