Chapter 18

 

 

 

Luke

 

 

My first day back at work was a good one.

My captain, Dane Beckett, greeted me the same way he always does. I got a firm pat on the back and a question about what I’ve been up to.

Diving into that with an honest answer wasn’t about to happen, so I fell back to my standard response. I told him I was good and that I’d used the time off to catch up on a few things.

It was more of a stretch of the truth than an outright lie.

I spent time every single night since Brook got married on my computer. I wasn’t searching for any crumbs she may have left me on her social media profiles. Instead, I worked on something that has been brewing inside of me for years.

Brook got her eyes on it once and giggled her way through the dinner that followed.

I didn’t put much stock in that.

Brooklyn Cornell has never handled emotions like a champ. The death of her parents in a house fire when she was nineteen played a major part in that. She shut down. I took over and handled what needed to be done in the days that followed.

It was another brick in the foundation of my desire to be a firefighter.

I don’t carry around any delusions that I could have saved her folks from the three-alarm fire that engulfed their apartment in Morningside Heights. I did see the compassion in the eyes of the firefighters that were present that day as I stood on the sidewalk with Brook in my arms.

We rushed to the scene from her dorm room at Columbia University when we saw the live news report just as we were waking up.

By the time we got there, we were too late.

A knock at my apartment door pulls me from my thoughts. I sprint toward it, swinging it open before asking who is on the other side.

“You cleaned up nicely. You must be back on the job.” Dante pushes his way past me. “I brought beer.”

He holds up a six-pack of the beer we usually drink.

I slam the door shut. “It’s a hard pass for me.”

“Because you overindulged when Brook married Dennis.”

I don’t argue because he’s right. “I’m chugging water.”

He glances at the almost full water bottle on my coffee table. “I should join you. I’ve got an important job to tackle tomorrow, so I need to be sharp as a tack.”

Dante started a cyber security firm four years ago. He guards his client’s privacy as closely as his own. I learned a long time ago that asking pointed questions about what he does is a waste of my time.

The only thing I know with certainty is that he’s not suffering financially in any way. The three-story penthouse he recently purchased on Park Avenue is proof of that. 

“Tell me what’s going on?” he says, plopping himself down on the couch.

“You called it,” I laugh as I join him, tugging at the thighs of my jeans. “I’m back at work.”

“And over Brook?”

The pain has subsided. I don’t think about her every waking moment anymore. If I’m being honest, thoughts of Afton Neal have crowded their way into my mind.

I wanted to kiss her goodbye the other night when we were waiting for her Uber. I couldn’t place where that urge came from. I enjoy hanging out with her, but she just walked out on a guy she was engaged to. I tried to stop my ex-girlfriend’s wedding.

A million warning flags are circling both of us, but still, I like her. I like her a lot.

“We don’t need to discuss that.” I edge forward. “You showed up out of nowhere. Why?”

Dante tosses me a look. “Why do you think?”

I smile because damn, I should have guessed it the second I opened the door. “Marti.”

“You know her too well.” The hem of his T-shirt edges up as he leans back. “She’s worried about you.”

“I’m good.”

He slaps my bare forearm. “That’s what I told her.”

I appreciate that he has my back. It’s a good feeling since I’ve always had his.

“The best cure for a broken heart is to get back out there.” He taps my chest. “A woman I know has been trying to set me up with her niece for months. She’s more your type than mine, so what do you say?”

Keeping a straight face, I glance at him. “Hell no.”

He cracks a smile. “C’mon, Luke. Give her a chance.”

“What the fuck makes her more my type than your type?”

“Her aunt lives in my building, so after we enjoy our time together, I’ll get drilled with twenty questions I’d rather avoid.”

Dante has never been one to fuck and flee. He’s not a saint, but he treats women with the same respect that I do.

He’s not close to settling down, so if he hooked up with the woman in question, it would make for awkward elevator conversations with his neighbor once the relationship ran its course.

“I’ll pass, but thanks.” I plaster an exaggerated smile on my face.

He rubs his jaw. “Is there someone else?”

I have no fucking idea if that’s how I’d classify what’s brewing between Afton and me. I don’t see her wanting more than friendship.  I can’t say right now if I want more than that for us either.

I’m undeniably attracted to her, but I need a friend more than I need a casual fuck.

“You’ll be the first to know when there is.”

“Leave it to you to lie to my face.” He clucks his tongue. “If you’re not drinking the beer I brought, at least let me buy you a burger.”

I’ve been stuffing my face with Italian food for days, so the change is welcome. “I won’t turn that down.”

I’ll eat, take a walk through Bryant Park, and then I’ll call it a night.

I covered someone else’s shift today as a return of a favor. Tomorrow I start my regular rotation, so once I get home, my day is over.