“Bill and Jimmy have been giving the new guy shit on your behalf, so really nothing you have to rush back for.”
“Oh, the new guy started already?” Matt asks, perking up for any news of the station, our home away from home. “He any good?”
“Yep. Knows his shit.”
I take the dustpan out of Matt’s hands and make quick work of the broken plate, then I wrap one arm around his side and the other around his good arm to help him up, and try to ignore the thrill I get at feeling just how solid he is.
Truth is, I haven’t messed around with all that many guys. I mean, I’ve known I wanted to pretty much since puberty hit, but since it became another one of those hide-from-Matt parts of my life that just feel so wrong, I just don’t get around to doing it much.
And truth? It feels weird when I do.
I mean, I definitely like it, and I don’t mean it feels weird to my dick, but I generally end up comparing whoever I’m with to Matt without meaning to, and then I feel… okay, told you this is weird, but I feel like I’m cheating on him.
“Earth to Johnny,” Matt says, waving a hand in front of my face and snapping his fingers. “Dude, where are you, bro? I asked you what the new guy’s name is.”
“What? Oh, yeah,” I say, dropping my arm from around him and stepping away. I scrub a hand over my face, thankful he can’t read my mind. “Name’s Asher.”
Matty laughs. “Asher? That’s the gayest name I’ve ever heard.”
I bristle inside, the comment hitting me harder than usual after where my mind had just gone, but then Matty pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, shocking the hell out of me.
“Oh, fuck, I am an asshole.”
“What? No, you’re not,” I say automatically, even though the little homophobic digs like that, which I’m not even sure Matt realizes he drops all the time, do start to wear on me, if I’m being honest. Still, he looks like he just sucked a lemon, genuinely contrite, and I’m a little floored. Has he been spending this downtime on some kind of sensitivity training or something?
“Please tell me this Asher guy isn’t really gay,” Matt goes on, trying to laugh it off. “Because I know I gotta stop saying shit like that, but how ironic would it be if he was, yeah?”
“Uh,” I say, because you know what? Hello, irony. Asher actually is. I wasn’t the only one who did a double-take when he put up a photo of him and another guy in his locker that looks, well, they don’t look just like friends, you know? And when Bill made a snarky comment about it—calling the dude Asher’s boyfriend in that tone that says the word’s an insult—Asher set him straight without batting an eye.
Said nope, not his boyfriend… his fiancé. Balls of steel, that one.
Bill shut up fast and ended up surprising me, too, by sort of taking Asher under his wing these last few days. Didn’t let up on giving him shit, of course, but kept it away from that topic, you know?
Matty obviously figured his own question was rhetorical, since he doesn’t push me for an answer on Asher. I’m happy to leave it alone for now. He’ll find out whenever he gets back to the station, and that’s soon enough for me.
Matt turns back to the sink like he’s going to try and finish washing dishes there, and I see him wince.
“Knock it off,” I tell him, hip-checking him out of the way. “You take some meds for the pain?”
“Eden gave me some before she left for work,” he whines, taking a seat at the kitchen table as I roll my eyes and get to work on the oh-so-offensive dirty dishes.
“Tell me something, Matty,” I say conversationally, whipping out the dish soap and scrubber like a boss. “How come you can rush into a burning building and do what you need to, always keep this house looking like something out of Better Homes & Gardens even after a long shift at the station, but you get the tiniest boo-boo and suddenly you’re reduced to being a toddler? How does that work, exactly? What, you can’t find your own pill bottle now?”
“Fuck off,” he says from behind me, sounding like he’s trying not to laugh. “My arm hurts. It’s broken. A little sympathy, maybe?”
“Awww,” I say sarcastically, grinning at the wall as I rinse and dry without bothering to turn around and get the one-fingered salute I’m sure is waiting for me.
“Hey, which one is Tabitha again?” Matt asks after a minute, the question telling me he’s flipping through the mail and found that birth announcement. “Is that Abby’s daughter or Barb’s?”
My two older sisters, and what does it say about my family that I have to stop and think about it?
“Tabitha is Barb’s girl,” I finally answer, popping the dishes back in the cupboard and then turning to face him. And yep, he’s got the mail in his hand… and found Santi’s letter, too. I swallow, waiting for the snide remark, but he just pulls it out and stares at it for a second, then starts tapping it against the table.
“Did you know both Eden’s parents died when she was a kid?” he asks, seemingly out of nowhere.
“No,” I say, my eyes following the bouncing letter. Tap tap tap tap taptaptap.
What’s Matty doing with it? He always throws them away.
“That book I saved for her, it’s a bucket list.”
“Huh,” I say, curious despite myself. I’ve heard of them, but never knew someone who actually wrote one out. And the way Eden was carrying on about it? It’s obviously important to her, and she’s… well, I guess you could say she’s important to me.
Silly, right? Just met the girl a week ago and most of the time she’s been here, I’ve been off working, but something about the connection we forged at the hospital got to me.
And then what came after?
Matty laughs. “I know that look. You’re thinking about Eden, yeah?”
“’Course I am,” I say, rolling my eyes. “We’re talking about her, aren’t we?”
“You were thinking about doing Eden,” he clarifies, leaning back in his chair with a shit-eating grin that says he knows he’s right.
Which… fine. He is. But for the record, I haven’t told him I fucked her that first night and don’t plan on spilling those particular beans right now, either.
I probably would’ve said something, not gonna lie, if she’d left the way she kept trying to, but now that Matty’s basically invited her to stay with us for a couple of months or however long it takes his arm to heal, sharing those details just seems kind of disrespectful to her, you know?
You might expect that she and I have either been ripping each other’s clothes off every night—something I wouldn’t mind, but that hasn’t happened again after that first time—or else walking on eggshells around each other in the world’s most extended morning-after awkwardness ever, but the reality has been different. I know she’s thinking about it sometimes when she looks at me, and damn, do those moments ever get to me, but between the long shifts I’ve pulled all week, her work schedule, and Matt always being around, there just hasn’t really been another private moment, you know?
Matty’s still grinning at me, and I just shrug, neither confirming nor denying.
He laughs, still holding the letter from Santi like he forgot about it. “Can’t blame you,” he says. “I know I think about doing her every damn day.”
I snort, turning away to rustle around in the fridge as I wonder how I feel about that. Not gonna lie, Matty and I have shared girls before. Not usually at the same time, but I mean, yeah, once that, too. I’ve never minded it… never felt jealous… if I’m honest, always kind of got off on knowing he was enjoying himself, actually.
But Eden’s different.
I mull it over, pulling out a few Chinese cartons left over from last night’s dinner.
Nope, I guess I still don’t mind.
Not sure Matt would feel the same, though, so I decide to leave it for now and go back to the other interesting subject he brought up.
“She tell you what’s on her bucket list?” I ask, dumping the last of the sesame chicken onto a plate and popping it into t
he microwave. I attack the fried rice cold, because my stomach suddenly reminds me that I need food now, not a minute-thirty from now.
“Some of it,” Matt says. “You wouldn’t believe what she’s done already, and she’s trying to get through all of it before she turns twenty-five.”
“When’s that?”
“A couple of months from now… and I think we should give her a hand. You know, help her finish the last few things.”
He gets a wicked grin on his face that’s sexy as hell, and I ignore what that does to me from long practice and just laugh, seeing right through him.
“I think you mean we should win some points so you can get in her pants,” I say, calling him on it.
Matt does a shitty job of looking wounded that I don’t buy for a second.
“What, I can’t just help out because I want to make her happy?”
“Oh, I’ve got no doubt you want to make her happy, bro,” I say, waggling my eyebrows. “But with one arm out of commish, you’re gonna have to get creative on that one.”
He flips me off, still grinning.
“So what’s left on her list?” I ask as the microwave dings.
Matty waits until I turn back around. “Skydiving.”
“Oh, hell no,” I say, hissing as the plate of chicken burns my hands. Doesn’t stop me though… I’m edging past hungry and straight toward hangry.
“You gonna share that?” Matt asks.
“Nope,” I tell him, taking a seat across from him and shoving the cold rice across as a consolation prize.
He turns his nose up at it and goes back to giving me shit about my… slight discomfort with high places. “Bet Eden would be grateful to have someone jump out of a plane with her,” he says, making it sound dirty as fuck. “Extremely… grateful.”
My dick sits right up and pays attention, liking that image a lot, but I ignore the randy thing and go to work on the sesame chicken, because there is no way on God’s green earth I will ever so much as go up in an airplane if I can help it, much less jump out of one. Sure, I can do ladder work if I have to on the job, but ninety-nine percent of the time the guys make sure I don’t have to, because adrenaline plus training can only carry you so far, you know? And heights… not gonna lie, they’re my kryptonite. Not proud of it, but no point pretending otherwise when lives are at stake.
“We’ll just have to make Eden grateful some other way, bro,” I say, grabbing the rice back, since he’s neglecting it and all. “What else?”
“She wants to learn to cook,” he says, eyeing my meal.
I snort, shaking my head. There’s a reason we’ve got all the best take-out on speed-dial.
“I’m guessing you didn’t really think through this idea about helping her out,” I say around the last mouthful of chicken. “Sounds like she’s hand-picking them just to stump us.”
“Right, because I’m sure we were a consideration when she put that list together,” he says, rolling his eyes.
I shrug. “Guess you’re out of luck, bro. Do not pass go. Do not get laid. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”
He wads up a piece of junk mail and throws it at my head—something I dodge with zero problems, I’d like to point out. Matt is not a lefty.
“There is one other thing she still wants to do,” he says, looking up at the ceiling.
“Yeah?”
He’s tapping Santi’s letter on the table again, and I slap his hand down and hold it flat, because he passed my tapping limit after the first round of that shit. I am the antsy one in this relationship, thank you very much. There’s only so much I can take when the shoe’s on the other foot.
“She wants to learn a foreign language,” Matt says after a minute, shrugging. “Says she doesn’t care which one, just that she always thought it would be awesome to be able to speak another one.”
Well… that’s interesting. I stare at him for a second, but he’s stuck, I can see it. Still, he’s the one who brought it up, and that surprises me as much as the fact that Santi’s letter hasn’t already found its way into the trash.
Surprises me and kind of makes me hopeful, too.
“Huh,” I say, gathering up my plate and the empty rice carton as I get up from the table, more than happy to provide the push he’s all but asking me for. “It’s too bad you don’t remember your Spanish, hermano. Guess I’ll have to be the one to dredge my memory for some words and find out if Eden’s grateful for the help or not.”
I wink at him, then turn away to handle cleanup.
The tapping starts up again while I’m washing my plate, and I exercise epic levels of patience as I wait for him to come around to where he obviously wants to go.
“Your accent has always sucked,” he finally says from behind me. “How many times I gotta tell you, you don’t pronounce the H.”
“Don’t tell me, tell Eden,” I say, grinning since I know he can’t see it.
It takes another minute, but then—
“Maybe I will.”
This day is just full of surprises, isn’t it?
And so far, I’m liking every one.
8
Eden
There’s a part of me that wants to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming, curled up on the couch between two hot firefighters after a long day on my feet like some kind of erotic fantasy that Auntie Maria might tease me about. Of course, it’s all perfectly innocent—we’re just browsing Instagram food porn and talking about what to have for dinner—but that’s even better, isn’t it? Because it gives me the perfect excuse for the way my mouth is watering.
“Doesn’t the Thai place have some dishes like that?” Matt asks, pointing to the phone Johnny’s holding for us. “I think their take-out menu is online.”
Johnny shoots down the idea of Thai and the two of them start bickering like an old married couple, and they’re so darn cute together that I can’t help giggling. The sound cuts them off mid-sentence.
“What?” Johnny asks, looking down at me with a teasing glint in his eye. “Please tell me you don’t agree with him on Big Guys Pizza. I’m so done with pizza this week.”
“Did you have an opinion you wanted to share, beautiful?” Matt asks from my other side.
I shake my head, worried I’ll blurt out something that has nothing to do with food and that would only cause problems if I open my mouth, and they let it slide and go back to arguing, because they’re… well, even with their flaws—and after two weeks living under their roof, yes, I’ve seen those too—I’m having a really hard time not feeling like they’re pretty much perfect.
Perfect for me.
Which is a problem. I’ve slept with Johnny and would do it again in a heartbeat, and Matt… oh Lord, Matt. He stars in my fantasies just as often as Johnny does. It’s easy to see how close the two of them are, though, and sure, at some point, everyone dates someone’s brother, someone’s best friend, and so on, but is this really a choice I’m going to have to make?
I bite my lip. The delicious way that the feel of those big, hard bodies sandwiching me between them sets everything inside me to tingling is going to have to be enough, because no, it’s not a choice I have to make. It’s not one I get to make. And even though they both flirt with me relentlessly, neither one pushes me.
I’m grateful, because I wouldn’t ever want to come between them.
I mean, maybe in the literal sense…
I squeeze my thighs together tightly as that tingle they inspire turns into a wet heat, surging between my legs, and I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle a naughty giggle. Oh my God, I’m just as bad as Auntie Maria.
Of course they notice.
Johnny drops a hand to my knee, squeezing it. “If you’ve got a better idea for dinner than this lunkhead, please, for the love of God, spit it out and save me now.”
His unbelievable body—that I remember so, so vividly—presses against me from thigh to shoulder on my other side. I shake my head, pretty sure if I try and speak, I’ll jump him.
“Come on now,” Matt teases, letting his left hand—flung across the back of the couch—smooth over the back of my hair. It’s deliciously sweet. “You’re going to have to share whatever that thought was.”
I know I have to say something before having both their hands on me at once drives me to distraction, so I make a monumental effort and come up with—
“I was… was just thinking how lucky I am.” Not exactly true, but it’s definitely not a lie, either. “I still can’t believe you’re letting me stay here.”
“Letting?” Johnny repeats, snorting back a laugh. “Pretty sure we’d both be on our knees begging you to if you tried to skip out on us before Sir Whines-a-lot gets his cast off.”
“Shut up, bro,” Matt says good-naturedly. He lets his hand slide down my hair to my shoulder, tugging me against his side. “You’re just jealous because she gives me sponge baths while you’re down at the station.”
“What?” I splutter, laughing despite myself as my face flares with heat. “I do not!”
“Do you know how hard it is to shower with this thing?” Matt asks, turning an adorably pleading look on me as he holds up his cast.
Johnny snorts back a laugh, shaking his head at Matt’s ridiculousness. “Hard, huh, buddy?” And then, winking at me, he adds, “Maybe you should help him out, princess. Keep this one happy and we’ll all be happier, you know?”
My jaw is on the floor and I can’t pick it up. I mean, I know Johnny’s just teasing, but that isn’t the kind of joke I’d expect from someone I’ve already slept with.
Is he testing me?
Tempting me?
Torturing me?
The two of them share a look over my head, then Matt uses his one good hand to tip my face toward his. “Did I mention that Johnny’s the smart one?” he says, eyes on my mouth. His voice drops low enough to make me shiver. “I mean, you wouldn’t want me getting… dirty, now, would you, beautiful?”
My breath hitches.
Yes.
Oh, Lord. Yes. I really would… but it would kill me to hurt Johnny, no matter how laid-back he is when we’re all flirting like this.
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