Page 4 of From the Embers

“Do I look that bad?” I run a hand through my damp hair—I showered at the firehouse—and then over the five o’clock shadow on my face. Sadly, I’ve purposely been avoiding shaving. Some might say it gives me that ‘rugged’ look or some shit, but the truth is, I just haven’t had the time or inclination.

“You know how much he lives to stir shit.” Brax pops a shoulder. “He can’t help himself.”

“Speak for yourself.” Eric passes me an already waiting beer, my eyes scanning over the bar quickly to see who’s working tonight. Or moreover, if she is working tonight. I don’t see my favorite redhead just now, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t here. I mean, she said she’d be here.

I take the beer and clink bottles with the boys. Raising it to my lips, I take a long pull and let the ice cold liquid slide down my throat.

“You ain’t gonna find anything good back there,” Brax says to me, following my gaze as he rests his beer bottle back on the bar. He knows exactly who I’m looking for, but neither of them seem to want to put me out of my misery and tell me if she’s here or not. Assholes.

Instead, Brax taps his foot to the beat on the bar stool, and Eric drains the last of his drink.

The live music is a country kind of rock. The easy beat and the crowd of people getting into it on the dance floor bring the edge of a smile to my lips.

I raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“You know you could just ask the woman out.” Eric shrugs. “I’m sure you have her number?”

“Even if I did have her number, you know I can’t do that.”

Brax rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re on your moral high horse again, brother?”

“Didn’t realize I had one,” I toss back.

“You kinda do when it comes to her,” Eric points out. “Not that anyone blames you. She’s the hottest girl in this place, that’s for sure.”

I don’t know why that annoys me because she isn’t mine to claim, but just as I think of a clever enough retort, smarter than telling him to just fuck off like I usually do, I hear the voice of an angel.

“Who’s the hottest girl in the place?”

I straighten my spine, tingles rising in my chest as I hear her voice.

My eyes flick from Eric, and bright azure eyes—that could bring my already rocky boat to breaking point—meet mine. Oh, just one look and she capsizes me over and over again. I feel the dryness in my throat seize up long before I part my lips to speak. Sweaty palms, a racing heart and a throbbing cock inevitably follows.

Long lashes frame her striking and vivid eyes, brilliant and crystalline accentuating her pretty face; peaches and cream complexion, plump lips, and a tiny trail of freckles along her nose and cheeks. She’s fucking exquisite.

Adelaide.

She’s been working in Sinner and Saints for the past few weeks while she sets herself up here in Chicago. Just three weeks ago it was the first time I’ve seen her in years…

“You know I’m gonna be gone for a month or so, and I need you to watch out for Adelaide while she finds her feet in the city,” Daryl says the night before his big trip. He’s been talking about it for months, and it’s the first I’ll have seen of her in over ten years. He’s bummed he’ll be missing out on seeing her until he gets back. Adealide moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts for college, and visits were few and far between. Her and Daryl caught up all the time, but our paths have never seemed to cross all that much. Maybe it’s because I’m a constant reminder of that night… I push the memory out of my mind all the time because it’s just too hard to go there.

“You know it,” I reply. “Just remind me when she gets here and I’ll be her official bodyguard.”

“Hmm. Well don’t tell her that whatever you do. Adi isn’t the girl you knew from our childhood days,” Daryl reminds me. “Needless to say, keep your hands to yourself.”

Okay, well that’s a given. It’s Adelaide.

How was I to know that the very next night at this very spot, ordering a drink with my friends from a cute redhead with vivid blues irises that seemed to look right into my soul, that I’d regret those thoughts.

The second she locked eyes with me, recognition took over.

A crystal-clear rendition of the night of Daryl’s burning house ram-rods my brain like it was yesterday. When I’d passed Adelaide to the firefighter waiting on the ladder, she’d looked up at me with big, trusting eyes. It’ll be forever etched into my soul, even now. Her arms reached for me, her eyes cloudy as tears rolled down her little face.

“I’m right behind you,” I called out to her, something I only just remember saying.

So much of that night is a blur to me now like a thick fog, sometimes it wakes me in the middle of the night and I remember some other detail I’d repressed. It’s been on and off like this for the past twenty-three years. I last saw Adi was when she was seventeen and graduating.

There’s been nothing at all in between, though I don’t think a day goes by where I haven’t thought about her and the Wilder family.