Page 10 of The Best Friend Problem
The second he asked the question, his phone chimed with an incoming text. Bruiser whined, tiny legs whirling in the air, nose pointing down. This wasn’t the first time his dog had known a call or text was coming. Weird. Maybe there was some high-pitched frequency that happened seconds before, which only dogs could hear.
Shifting Bruiser in his arms, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, a smile curling his lips as he read the screen.
“Pru?” Turner asked.
He glanced up to his fellow firefighter. “How’d you know?”
The man shrugged. “You always get that sappy smile on your face whenever she calls or texts.”
Finn scowled. “I do not have a sappy smile.”
“You do, man,” Ward called from his place at the sink.
Finn ignored his coworkers and focused on Pru’s message.
P: Are you free tonight to meet for dinner? We need to talk.
Uh oh. The worst four words in the English language.
Nothing good came after the phrase “we need to talk.” It was what you used when ending a relationship. But he and Pru weren’t in a relationship. They were friends. You couldn’t dump your best friend. Well, you could, but he didn’t think Pru would ever “dump” him. They’d been through thick and thin together. Since the moment they’d met in middle school, they’d had each other’s back.
He set Bruiser on his lap, and his thumbs flew across the screen, typing out a reply.
F: Everything okay?
He waited, holding his breath as the tiny dots finally turned into words.
P: Yes. Everything is fine. I just have some important news to share with you.
He breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he’d do if he ever lost Pru’s friendship.
P: So are you off tonight?
He was. Normally he liked to stay at home the first night off-shift. Decompress. But Pru’s text had his nerves on edge. He’d never be able to relax knowing she had something important to share with him.
F: Yeah. In a few hours. I can meet you at City Tavern around six.
P: Sounds good. See you then.
“Hey, Jamison. You okay?”
He glanced up to see Díaz staring at him, concern pinching her dark brows.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” If “fine” meant he was going to spend the next few hours worrying about whatever news Pru had to tell him, then sure, he was fine.
Díaz did not seem convinced. “Everything okay with Pru?”
Ward walked back over to the table, drying his hands with a dishrag. “Man, I do not know how you stay just friends with that woman.”
Tension had his back going stiff. “Pru’s fine, and I stay just friends with her because she’s awesome and I don’t want to screw anything up.”
Finn liked women. In fact, he loved them. But he didn’t want anything serious. As a firefighter, he risked his life every day to save others. He loved his job, loved saving people, but he knew the dangers. In the course of his career, he’d lost a few good friends to the hazards of the job. That was a possibility he accepted. He’d accepted he might die in the service of others. He couldn’t live with the chance of leaving a wife and kids to mourn him. He’d seen what that did to families, to futures.
Pru had always dreamed of white picket fences. A husband with a nine to five job, who coached Saturday little league. She and Finn were great friends, but they’d make a terrible couple.
“Hey,” Ward finished drying his hands and tossed the dishrag into the station’s laundry basket. “All I’m saying is Pru would make an excellent girlfriend, and I can’t believe numbnuts over here doesn’t see that.”
He saw that. Hell, he knew how amazing Pru was. And he wasn’t blind. She was beautiful—gorgeous, in fact. Her dark brown eyes always reminded him of rich, creamy chocolate. She was half a foot shorter than him, but it just made her easier to pick up and carry around, something she made him do whenever she got tired when they went hiking. Which was always. He’d never tell her, but it made him feel a bit like a superhero.
