The Fireman I Loved to Hate by Jenna Gunn

Author:Jenna Gunn [Gunn, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jenna Gunn
Published: 2020-06-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I struggle out of bed and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, pushing away the sleep. I stayed up for a long time with Ms. Lynn and Mr. Jimmy; she rode with him to the ambulance, and I followed them, staying until we realized they weren’t letting Mr. Jimmy out that night. I drove Ms. Lynn home so she could get her car and drive straight back.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand. Monroe begins meowing directly into my face as I lean over to snatch it up; it’s an email from my agent, written with that false cheeriness he uses when he’s irritated. He can get over it. My neighbors’ house is halfway gone.

My eyes widen when I see the time. Eleven-thirty in the morning? Memories of last night come crashing into me like a ton of bricks - didn’t I tell Alex he could come over? Why did I do that? Has he been here already and left when I slept through him knocking on the door?

I decide to err on the side of caution and assume he’s just late; I jump in the shower and scrub myself clean, desperately trying to rid my hair of that smoke smell. There’s no time for makeup, I assume; I rush out of the bathroom and toward my dresser.

Carmen and Monroe meow insistently at me as I come back into the room. “Just a sec!” I tell them, yanking open drawers and shuffling through clothes. Why am I so nervous? Why did I agree to let him come over? What is wrong with me lately?

The doorbell chimes.

“Crap.” I hug the shirt I’m holding to my chest. It’s not fancy, but it’ll have to do. I throw it on - it’s an old t-shirt, a little too short from shrinking in the dryer. I pull on the closest pair of shorts and wince at the little strip of skin showing above the waistline. Stupid shirt. Maybe I can find a different one -

The doorbell rings again, followed by knocking on the door. I curse under my breath and leave the bedroom, both cats following and meowing.

My hair’s still wet, I realize as I pass the hallway mirror - nothing I can do about it now. I yank open the door for Alex.

He looks...nice. How is it that a man can look so good just by rolling his sleeves up to the elbow? He smiles at me; I see those dark eyes dip to my stomach before flitting back up to my face. I place my hand over my bellybutton as surreptitiously as I can before stepping back.

“Come on in.”

“I brought breakfast,” he says, lifting a stack of pink-striped boxes in his hands. He moves past me and I hurriedly shut the door so the cats won’t get out. “I came late in the morning so you’d have a chance to sleep.”

I pause in the entranceway as he walks past me to set the boxes on my little round dining table, which I’ve been able to unpack recently.

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