by BJ Harvey
“I am happy. I’m just…”
“Stuck,” he says. “And this is why jumping your partner is not a good idea. You don’t do strings, and there’s no way anything with Skye would come without one of you catching feelings.”
“She made it clear this morning that she sees sex as just a physical act that can happen without expectations and emotions.”
His eyes go wide. “So, Skye’s saying she’s just like you then,” Jamie says, his lips twitching. I glance at Ax to make sure he’s not watching before lifting my hand and flipping the bird at my brother.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay. So to speed this along, I’m gonna tell it to you straight. Last night, you watched a drunk woman rub up on Ezra like a cat in heat. The difference being it’s never been Skye doing the rubbing.” I clench my jaw tight, Jamie’s eyes lighting up at the move. “And there it is. You didn’t like that, so maybe that’s what set you off and put this idea in your head. This morning’s events were just the manifestation of that.”
I open my mouth to argue with him but stop when his words sink in.
“This isn’t just me talking as someone who doesn’t want to lose rental income during the build, so don’t think that when I tell you this,” he says, pinning me in place with his stare. “Move forward from whatever happened today. Lock it away, bury the key, and keep your friendship and working relationship intact. I’m yet to meet a woman or a man who can sleep together, work together, see each other every day, and one or both of them not get confused, conflicted, or messed up over it.”
He’s right, and it supports my initial reaction this morning when Skye made it crystal clear that she wouldn’t be opposed to taking things further. Then again, that stage-five clinger from dispatch also fed me that line and look how that turned out.
It would be a mistake, one that would only lead to pain, heartache, and the annoying need for me to train a new partner. All of it unwanted and unnecessary.
I nod. His words have hit exactly where I needed them to. “So basically, don’t let my dick get in the way of a good thing.”
Jamie looks impressed. “Exactly.”
“Dad,” Ax says, breaking the silence. “Dick is definitely a swear word.” Then he turns to me, holding his hand out. “Ice cream or cash, I’ll leave it up to you.” My eyes snap to his father, who just looks between us and shrugs with a chuckle.
“You heard the boy. A deal is a deal.”
And out of all the things Jamie has said, that sinks in, because twelve months ago, I made a deal with myself not to act on my attraction to Skye.
This morning’s events be damned. Both of us need to move past it.
We need to close that box, lock it up tight, and throw away the key.
We can just go back to how we’ve been for the last twelve months: workmates, best friends, platonic.
Men and women have been doing this forever. There’s no reason why Skye and I can’t do the same. I’ll just talk to her at the start of our shift to make sure there’s not going to be any awkwardness between us.
We need to move forward and get back to our comfortable status quo. I just have to forget how damn good she felt pressed up against me and the feel of her lips against mine.
Should be easy… right?
4
Skye
Having gone back to bed after Cohen left, I wake up feeling refreshed and clear-headed. After picking up my phone, I scroll through my photos from last night, smiling at the images of the Cook family in celebration mode.
Bryant and Faith were apart for twelve years before she came back, and in an ultimate game of double dare, he challenged her to prove she wanted him forever. Cue almost five months later, and last night was the party to end all parties.
Since becoming Cohen’s ‘work wife,’ for all intents and purposes, I’ve gone to a few family events and that wedding reception was definitely one of the best.
Love was in the air. Alcohol was flowing, and the catering was out of this world. Since I indulged in a lot of the former and not so much of the latter, I was decidedly tipsy and remember talking to Ezra, Faith’s brother, and best friend to all of the Cook brothers.
At one stage, I felt a bit dizzy, and he put his arm around my waist. I found it hilarious when he murmured that Cohen would probably get the wrong idea if we stayed standing like that. Then I suggested we do exactly that and not a few moments later, when I slid my hand down Ezra’s chest—much to his amusement—Cohen whistled at me, and after that, I don’t remember much.
I’ve always been trigger-happy when it comes to photos. I’m of the belief that there will never become a time when I won’t want to remember the little snapshots of my life that images can represent. I’m not one to live with regret, so nothing I have done or may do in the future will be something I’ll want to forget.
Go hard or go home isn’t just a motto to me—it’s my life’s mission.
I’m hoping he doesn’t do the typical girl thing and spend the day overanalyzing what it may or may not mean to our friendship. That would suck because it could make our twenty-four-hour-shift awkward if it doesn’t go well.
I’d rather pull my pubes out with tweezers than rehash any of that shit again.
I send some of my favorite photos from last night to my special app to order prints off and switch over to read the news when my phone vibrates in my hand.
“Hey babe,” I say, answering my best friend Dion’s call.
“Hey, sweetness. How are we today?”
“I’m good. I just woke up.”
“Oh, really? And did we wake up alone?” he asks.
“This time I did. How are you guys?”
“This time? Oh, please tell me there’s a juicy story there.”
I laugh, shaking my head. Dion is worse than a brother, and I should know—I have two, of the overbearing and protective variety. “Oh it’s nothing like that. I got drunk, Cohen brought me home, and I ended up crawling onto the couch with him in the middle of the night. He frotted against me in his sleep, woke up, freaked out, I got in his face, we kissed, he freaked out again, I told him I wasn’t opposed to going there if we had an itch to scratch, he declined, and the rest is history.”
“What?!?” Dion shrieks.
“It’s fine. I gave Cohen a quick lesson on ‘Skye’s approach to sex as a single woman,’ and he seemed a bit taken aback.”
“Most people don’t think a girl like you would think like that.”
I shrug. He’s not wrong. “It’s probably for the best though, because he decided to drop a bomb of his own.”
“Yes… let me guess: he’s in love with you and wants to have a gaggle of EMT babies with you.”
“Oh God, no. Are you trying to make me feel sick? No. He’s moving in.”
“What?” he screeches, louder than the first time.
I burst out laughing, rolling over the bed in a fit of giggles. “I mean, he’s moving into the bottom flat to be an on-site contact for the renovations.”
“Ohhh, now that is interesting.”
“How is that juicier than you thinking he was moving in here?”
“Because he’s moving downstairs. He’s gonna be under you.”
“You’re such a pervert.”
“And that’s why your cousin lurves me, sweetness. He’s all about my perviness, morning, noon, and night.”
“You’re so full of shit,” I say with a laugh. “You don’t even see him at lunchtime.”
“That you know about. Maybe I visit his hunky lawyer ass at the office and lock the door.”
“Do you?”
“Well, no. But that’s because I work.”
“As does he.”
“And his hourly rate is far too high for me. I’d rather spend it than pay it.” He’s the one cackling this time, and I soon join him.
“Did you call me just to say hi, or is there a reason?” I ask.
“A bit of column A, a bit of column B. Miss Penelope has asked for
a stay-at-home girls’ night with you, and I said I’d check in with her favorite aunty to make a date.” Penelope is Dion and Vinnie’s four-year-old daughter, and I’m her godmother. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for that girl. She’s a part of me and always will be.
“You know I’ll do whatever our Lady Penny demands,” I say with a giggle.
“Yes… that’s why she’s a spoiled little princess who has her dads wrapped around her little finger,” he says, not sounding at all disgruntled by the fact.
“You two are just as bad as I am when it comes to our precious.”
“Absolutely.” His voice goes soft and gentle. “So, check your schedule and let me know.”
“Will do.”
“Now, back to hunkalicious. Is the knowledge of how he kisses and how well the lord blessed him going to be a problem for the two of you?”
“I don’t think so.” God, I hope not. “Our friendship and working relationship has always come first, and I don’t see why anything has to change. I let it be known that I’m not opposed to taking things further; he gracefully declined. We left it at that.”
“There’s also the little fact of thug one and thug two.”
I snort at the names we’ve always used when referring to my brothers, there’s also a thug three called Gio, but he’s a police officer, not a firefighter. “They don’t—and won’t—dictate who I see and what I may or may not do with them.”
“You may think that, but remember just how many guys in your life they’ve scared off. If they hear Co has had little Co anywhere near you—”
“Definitely nothing little about Cohen Cook.”
Dion claps, making me giggle. “Now, that is good news.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. It was just a lapse in judgement or something. Nothing we both can’t forget and move on from. It’s not like we had bad sex and exchanged bodily fluids. It’ll be fine.”
“I hope so, sweetness. Not that you’ve ever brought him here to introduce him to your best bitch or anything—but from all accounts, he’s good people.”
“He is. And maybe I will bring him around one day.”
“Oh, goodie. Just give me some warning so I can go all out and impress the hottie. You know, just in case.”
“No need for that, D. He’s my best work friend.”
“And that’s exactly why he needs to pass the best life friend’s inspection. You know the rules, missy.”
“Yeah, D.” I turn my head to check the time on my alarm clock. “Look, I better get my ass out of bed and start getting ready for work. I’ll call you in a few days and let you know when Penny and I are taking over your couch.”
“My couch is your couch whenever you want it. With Princess Penny or just with V and me for drinks and downtime. You know that.”
“Always, D. Love you. And tell Vin you’re undersexed and overpaid.”
“Honey, that man knows what side his bread is buttered, and he knows just how to slather it all over me.”
“That’s definitely my cue to love and leave you. Bye, D.” I end the call, and my heart is full, just like it always is after hearing from my favorite man.
I drop my phone onto the bed and swing my legs over the side.
Cohen and I will be fine. Friends accidentally kiss and grind all the time. It was a minor slip that wasn’t going to turn into anything, so there’s definitely no awkwardness on my part.
I stand and make my way out of my room and across the apartment to my bathroom. Time for a bubble bath and a face mask before another long-ass shift.
If I just happen to use the memory of Cohen’s hard body against mine, his clean all-man smell, the feel of his firm, unyielding lips, and his tongue in my mouth as inspiration for a little self-love, then so be it. He’ll never know, and it’ll make for a much more relaxed Skye come worktime. I say that’s a win for me all-round.
I walk into the firehouse living area ten minutes before I’m due to start. Marco, Luca, and a few of the other guys are sitting on the couches, watching some football game. Normally Cohen would be with them but he’s nowhere to be seen. Strange. His car was parked outside.
“Hey,” I say, setting my backpack on the dining table and walking over to them. Marco gets up from his perch on the couch and comes my way.
I hold my arms open and he envelops me in a bear hug, giving me a squeeze before stepping back.
“Hey, brat. How was the wedding?”
I grin at my big brother. “It was good. A few too many drinks, but Co looked after me.” Amongst other things.
His lips tip up. “Still a party girl.”
I shrug. “You know it. But I had a nap, and I’m OK now.”
“Even better.”
“How was your weekend?”
“Nothing to write home about.”
“No hot date?” I ask, bumping him with my shoulder.
He snorts and shakes his head. “You know me. I’m waiting for a showstopper.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the understudies first.”
“Well, I didn’t say I’m going to be a monk till that happens, did I?” His eyes crinkle with amusement.
“That’s Gio. Have you heard from Mom and Dad?”
“Yeah, I swung by yesterday. Mom wants a family dinner the next time we’re all off shift.”
I nod. “Seems the women in my life are demanding my time. D called this morning, and Penny wants girl-time.”
Marco’s gaze softens. “How is our princess?”
“Ruling her kingdom with an iron fist by all accounts.”
“Typical Rossi then.”
“You know those Rossi genes are strong.”
“Just like the Rossi women, ’ey?”
“You know it.”
Luca sidles up next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me in tight. “How’s my favorite little sister?”
“Don’t let Val hear you say that; she’d be offended,” I say. Valentina is my older sister, coming in third in the birthing order behind Marco and Luca, followed by Gio, leaving me, the baby—the oops that my mom says completed her family. It’s that reason that Mama put her foot down and demanded she name me something different.
Luca dips his head. “Let’s not tell her then,” he whispers with a smirk, making us laugh.
“Oh, and Cohen has some news this morning,” I say.
Marco arches a brow. “You’ve seen him already today?”
“Of course. He took me home last night and slept on the couch.” And I joined him.
Marco narrows his gaze. “On the couch?” he rumbles, his unasked question clear as day.
“Yes, hulk Marco, cool your jets. It’s not like he hasn’t crashed at my place before,” I say with a sigh.
“Have you been drunk before? After attending a wedding where his last single sibling got hitched?”
I roll my eyes so hard I almost pull a muscle. “We’re friends, Mar. That’s it. That’s all we’re gonna be. He friend-zoned me the day we met, and nothing has changed.” I turn to Luca, who’s also looking concerned. Footsteps thud behind me. “Cohen’s like a brother from another mother. You two have nothing to worry about,” I say, catching a glimpse of my partner out of the corner of my eye. “Besides, even if he did see me as the hot, clearly sexy woman that I am…” My brothers groan, Luca, adding in dry-retching noises for effect. “… you two thugs would scare him off sooner than he could lay a single”—I jab a finger in Marco’s chest—“damn”—I do the same to Luca—“hand on me.”
Both of them lift a hand up and rub their pecs.
“You’re the thug, beating up your brothers like that,” Luca says, a proud shit-eating grin curving his lips.
“You trained me well,” I say, giving Cohen a chin-lift. His amused expression instantly puts me at ease. No awkwardness. So far, so good.
I move to the kitchen where he leans against the counter, water bottle in hand.
“Hey Casanova,” I say. I rest my elbows down b
eside his, mimicking his position.
He turns his head. “Hey, brat. You feeling better?”
“One hundred and ten percent.”
“Good,” he says softly. “That’s good.”
“How was your day?” God. Why does this conversation feel weird?
“Can’t complain. Had lunch with Jamie and Axel. That’s always entertaining.” He grins, and I grin back at him, both of us just looking at each other, a strange semi-awkward silence stretching between us.
“I hear you played babysitter for this menace last night. I hope she wasn’t too much of a handful,” Marco says, clapping Co on the shoulder. Having just taken a swig from his water bottle, he starts choking, spluttering as he struggles to recover.
I bite my lip, holding back a laugh as I fail to stop myself from poking the bear… just a little bit. “And Co’s moving in to the ground-floor flat. He’s going to be my live-in landlord,” I announce, a little too excitedly.
Every single set of eyes in the room swings our way, and there’s no missing the painful groan that escapes Cohen’s mouth.
I lift my head and sweep my gaze around my colleagues, finding varied levels of amusement and fascination on their faces. Luca and Marco, though? They’re frowning.
Thankfully, the bells start to ring, echoing off the walls of the big room. “Accident. Engine one-oh-one. Squad five. Ambulance one-oh-one.”
“Saved by the bell,” I say, as everyone jumps into action.
I walk back to the table, yanking my hoodie over my head as I go. Reaching into my bag, I shrug my shirt over my tank top. A strange growl coming from the kitchen, and looking up, I catch a puzzled expression on Cohen’s face.
His eyes are glued to my midriff and low-cut top. I clear my throat and quirk a brow. His gaze snaps to my face. “You ready?” I ask.