I walked to where Jameson was holding open the passenger door. “Would you mind if you’re caught on the camera as part of the footage? Maybe you could explain where the lights and siren—”
“I’d rather not.”
That was the exact answer I’d expected. But since Alexander hadn’t said it was required, I figured he would just do edits and a voice-over along with the images.
“Okay, I just thought you might want to represent and educate the public a little bit—”
“I don’t.”
Right, well, that settled that. I climbed up into the passenger seat, and after Jameson shut the door firmly behind me, I watched him through the windshield as he walked around the front of the truck.
What was it about this guy that I found so intriguing? He was rude, abrupt, and not very likable at all. I thought firefighters were in the business of helping their fellow man, caring for their community. And while Jameson had stepped up to save me—a complete stranger—last Friday, I couldn’t help but think he would rather just disappear into the background.
He was an enigma, and I wanted to know more. Too bad I’d never get the chance, since he clearly couldn’t stand the sight of me.
Chapter 9
Jameson
“WELL, YOU LOOK like shit.”
“Hey to you too, Jon,” I said as I climbed onto a barstool and tossed my wallet and keys on the counter. It was my day off, and while I’d usually spend the better part of it recovering from my shift, I didn’t have time today. Not with the prospect of being tossed out of my place looming in the back of my mind. “I’ll have a scotch, neat.”
“Day drinkin’ huh?” Jon grabbed a glass and poured a double before sliding it over to me. “What’s that about?”
I lifted my hips off the stool, pulled out the crumpled piece of paper I’d shoved in my back pocket, and slid it over the counter.
Jon picked up, and as he flattened it out and the words EVICTION NOTICE came into view, I tossed back my scotch.
“Jesus, Jameson. When’d you find out about this?”
“About a week ago, when they started plastering it on my front door.”
Jon looked back to the piece of paper. “This says you have to be out by the weekend.”
“I can read.”
“Do you have someplace to go?”
No, I didn’t. Not anywhere permanent, anyway. I’d been looking online to see if there was anything to rent in the area, but so far everything was either a shithole or above my spending limit.
“I can bunk a few days at the station, but I’ll need something soon. That’s why I’m here. Wanted to numb the pain of having to scroll through a hundred nos in the hopes of finding one possible yes.”
“Sounds like dating.”
“Wouldn’t know, don’t do that.”
“Well, if worse comes to worse, I have the couch in the office here.”
Yeah, I knew that couch well. I’d crashed on it enough to know it would leave me with a stiff back and even more regrets than I already had. “Thanks, man. I’m sure something will come up. I’m going to grab one of the booths.”
“No problem.” Jon nodded at my empty glass. “Want another?”
It was tempting to pay for the bottle and spend the day drinking my problems away. But I really needed to find something and fast.
“Nah, I’ll just take a Coke.”
Jon filled a glass and slid it over to me, then held up the crumpled flyer. “Want this?”
“Fucking burn it for all I care.”
Jon crumpled the paper as I slid off the seat and made my way over to the booth, where I planned to search every fucking rental site available to me. It was quiet in here now, only a handful of locals stopping in for a quick beer, and as I stared out the grimy window to the side street, I was reminded of a well-dressed man who smelled too good to be true.
Seeing GQ—Ryan—down at the station last shift had been unexpected, but not unpleasant. After Friday night, I’d quickly shoved him out of my mind, believing I’d never see him again. But when he turned around in the station’s conference room, all put together in his black suit, I’d just about fallen on my ass.
I’d known Ryan likely had some fancy, high-paying job—you just had to look at his clothes to work that out. But to find out he worked with one of the most well-known faces in the news world was a little mind-blowing.
Not that I cared. I’d done what I needed to do, gotten him the shots his illustrious boss had asked for, then sent him on his merry way. But that hadn’t stopped me from thinking about him for the rest of my shift, and now.
Why couldn’t I get him out of my head? It wasn’t like I didn’t have a hundred other things I should be thinking about or that he was even my type. But every time I had a spare minute to myself, my mind automatically wandered back to the golden boy I had no business thinking about. He’d be a complication I couldn’t afford right now—literally.
I dragged my attention away from the street and back to the depressing job of looking for somewhere to live, pulling up the app. I hit search on the usual parameters I’d set, saw a few new listings pop up, and began to go through them one by one.
The first one was beyond cheap, and several lines into the ad, I knew why. The place had one bedroom for two occupants. I’d be sleeping on a sofa bed. Yeah, no fucking way. Jon’s couch was a better scenario than that. Next up was a cheap two-bedroom place. But it was located in a part of town that even I wouldn’t want to close my eyes in.
Rental properties around here were harder and harder to come by these days. With all these new developers coming in and tearing down the old homes to build these fancy new high rises, rent had gone up and the locals had been driven out. But if I was going to pay that much for rent, I might as well look for a place closer to work, something a little further downtown.
I let out a sigh and bumped up the maximum price I was willing to pay, along with widening my area of interest. Then I hit search and watched as hundreds of little red dots flashed up on the screen.
Jesus Christ. I’d gone from three options to three hundred, and the sheer amount was overwhelming. It was time to narrow it down to what it was I really wanted in a place, and what I could afford.
First thing was availability. I needed to be able to move in ASAP, because as of midnight on Sunday, the locks on my place would be changed and I’d be homeless. Second, I wanted a bedroom of my own. I didn’t mind sharing a bathroom—though a separate one would be preferable—as long as I had my own space to sleep. Third, I wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want any expectations from whomever I moved in with. I was a loner, and I liked it that way. I’d done the whole best-friend roommate deal before, and this time around, I wanted no part of it. I’d be cordial and polite, and pay my rent on time. But I didn’t want any misguided notion that I was going to be throwing parties and being buddy-buddy with whomever I moved in with.
My job was stressful, and when I came home, I liked to zone out and relax. If I wanted more than that, I headed to Jon’s or the local nightclub to find a sexy body to work out any extra kinks. But once it was over, it was done, and that was the way I liked it.