He stirred when his back hit the gurney, almost like he was trying to climb off.
"Just wait a second," I told him quietly. "Take in a few more big breaths. You passed out for a while there." I pushed his dark brown hair back off his forehead.
He mumbled something that I couldn't understand. I wouldn't let him take off the mask yet, so whatever it was would have to wait.
"Phin!" Mrs. Boxer rushed over. Paster hadn't bandaged her forehead yet, but the wound had stopped bleeding. "I'm so sorry, son." Her wrinkled hands fluttered in front of her. "I know you told me it was dangerous to keep grilling, but I didn't think anyone would notice if I cooked up a few. They were a gift." She seemed to add the last part as a reason that would explain everything else.
Meanwhile, I was biting back my growls. Mrs. Boxer was sorry; that much was clear. Her eyes were watery, and her hands still shook. "We generally frown against people using charcoal grills inside, Mrs. Boxers. Is there something wrong with your stove?"
"No, but the smoky flavor is what brings out the seasonings."
I didn't think that was true but wasn't going to argue with the old woman. "If you do it again, you may receive a ticket. Even if it doesn't end with having to evacuate your entire building." We should've given her a ticket immediately. I'd made up my mind to do just that when Phin's hand collided with my arm.
I looked down at where we'd touched. He'd shoved me. Because I wouldn't tell Mrs. Boxer everything was fine? Fuck that. He could've been killed. I wouldn't think about what might've happened if I'd gone to the firehouse at the beginning of my shift instead of rushing in early to help.
Mrs. Boxer went back to where she'd been waiting. Except now her frail shoulders shook. I'd probably feel horrible about that later.
"You didn't have to be so rough with her," Phin croaked.
My joy that he looked like he was responding well to the oxygen faded with his tone. "Did you want me to tell her it's okay? Let her burn down the whole place next time?" I put the mask back over his mouth.
He lifted it immediately. "She's a lonely old woman. She didn't mean anything by it."
"And yet you're still sitting there sucking down pure oxygen in nothing but your rocket boxers because a lonely old woman didn't mean anything by it." Anger flashed a second time.
Phin pushed up off the gurney, and I moved, landing between his legs in my effort to stop him. His bare thighs cradled my hips. A few seconds longer and I'd spring the most inappropriate boner in the history of boners. I didn't get it. Phin wasn't my type at all. For one, he wasn't falling at my feet for saving his life. I didn't require the gratitude, but it felt nice when most people were appropriately thankful. Judging from his physique and coloring, he wasn't a big outdoors type either. I remembered the setup he had upstairs, and while I didn't know heads or tails about computers, it had certainly seemed impressive. That made him more Aver's type than anything. Aver liked those quiet nerdy ones. When he wasn't pretending he wasn't gay anyway.
But Aver was too diplomatic to tell it like it was to Phin. And apparently, he needed a big dose of reality. "You realize you were almost dead there, right?"
"We all die." He shrugged.
That just made me angrier. "Is that what you want on your tombstone? Suffocated to death in pursuit of smoky wieners?" I shoved the mask in his face, knowing I needed to relax. More than that, I needed to step back from where our bodies pressed together, but I could do neither.
"What do I care? I won't be around to read it."
"Well, someone will care. Worry about them." I should've just dropped it. Why did it matter to me that this guy seemed to care so little about himself? Perhaps because he seemed so very blasé about the whole topic. Like he lived in constant danger and had come to terms with the idea that he might not live the day every morning he woke up. He wasn't a cop. I knew all the police in Walker County. "Where did you come from?"
"I moved here a few weeks ago from Spokane."
That explained why I'd never seen the man before.
He frowned. "I should probably let my friends know I am okay."
Thank the lord, the guy had friends. So maybe a lot of what he was saying was just the shock talking. I lifted my face to the crowd of other tenants. They'd stopped focusing on us. Some had left, while those with no place to go lingered on the sidewalk. "I'll bring them over. Point them out."
"Online," he clarified.
I groaned. He was one of those.
"What?" Phin snapped.
One thing was for sure, he didn't take shit. But what had I expected? Him to open his eyes and immediately begin worshiping me?
Kind of.
"Nothing," I said, and I really, really, really should've left it at that, but I couldn't. "Just—I meant real friends."
Phin's face twisted into a glorious mask of anger. I felt his ferocity like a challenge that I was more than eager to meet. My heart pounded as my senses sharpened as if danger were nearby. "You know, thank you so much. I'm so glad that I know now. It is possible to save people while also being a complete and utter asshole."
Chapter Two
Phineas
"You need to sit there and continue breathing. You should go to the hospital and get checked, blood tests—"
"Nope." I hopped off the gurney. I already didn't feel as dizzy as I had when this guy had burst into my room, making me sure I was finally living a scene in Close Encounters.
I was lucky, really, that the gladiator who had rescued me was such a jerk. At least now, there was no possibility of us becoming friends. It was always a problem when I moved to a new town. Well-meaning neighbors, mothers who lived down the street who have a son I would just love. I'd already gotten too close to Mrs. Boxer.
We'd done no more than exchange pleasantries, maybe stopped to chat when our paths crossed. Now she was out here in her pink nightgown.
I shivered. Now that He-Man wasn't next to me, I could feel the cold morning air.
Something draped over my shoulders, startling me. It was that guy with one of those shiny blankets they pass out at disaster relief centers. I thought about yanking it off me, throwing it in his face, and standing up to bullies everywhere—but that didn't exactly make sense since he'd given me the blanket, likely to keep me warm. He wasn't a bully, he was…
Gorgeous.
But he knew it too. As foreign as the concept was, I had nothing against people who were self-confident. What I hated were people who thought they were better than other people. "Thanks," I mumbled, grabbing the two edges of the blanket and drawing them together. I finally looked down at his name tag. I didn't think he'd been wearing it the whole time. Had he snuck it on when I wasn't looking? "Thanks, Walker."
"Nash," he grunted. "You can call me Nash."
"Phineas." I stuck my hand out. Nash just looked at it until I slowly let it begin to drop.
He lunged forward and grabbed my hand like he was falling from a great height and my hand was the only thing left that could save him.
"Okay, that was weird," I mumbled as our joined arms pumped once. First, he'd taken forever to accept my hand; now, he wouldn't let go. A few seconds later, I tugged my hand out of his. How were his hands as sexy as the rest of him? Because he was perfect, that was how. Perfectly chiseled body, perfect lips, perfect glossy black hair that shone despite the close military-style cut. I appreciated how he wore it a little longer. I imagined him at the barbers. Military, but make it fashion. Smirking at the mental image, I found Nash's gaze directed at my lips. "What?"