Page 3 of The Firefighter’s Forever

He nods, as though the decision makes perfect sense. “Good.”

I laugh softly. “Good?”

“If you were miserable, you left.” His eyes hold mine. “Sounds smart to me.”

It’s a surprisingly comforting thing to hear.

“And you?” I ask. “How long have you been⁠—”

The station alarm erupts overhead, drowning out my words. All at once, voices echo through the building, boots pound against the concrete floor, and Lucas is already moving before the dispatch announcement finishes crackling over the speakers.

“Sorry, Harmony. I’ve gotta go.” He catches his turnout coat in one hand without breaking stride. Halfway to the apparatus bay, he looks back at me. “You free tomorrow night?”

“I…yeah. I am.”

“Good. Dinner. Six o’clock.”

I shake my head with a disbelieving laugh. “That wasn’t a question.”

Someone shouts his name. He reaches for his helmet as another firefighter jogs past.

“I’ll pick you up. You staying with your parents?”

I stare at him. “How did you know?”

He grins. “Lucky guess.”

I follow him outside in time to watch him climb into the fire engine. The truck roars to life, lights flashing as it rolls out of the bay, and seconds later it’s racing down the street with the siren echoing through town.

Everything happens so fast that I’m left standing frozen in place, trying and failing to process all of it.

I came here expecting to surprise the skinny boy I spent every summer with. Instead, I found a man I didn’t even recognize until he smiled.

I have no damn idea what to do with that.

2

LUCAS

Istand on Harmony’s parents’ front porch at six o’clock sharp, empty-handed and feeling less composed than I've felt walking into burning buildings.

The empty-handed part is deliberate. Fifteen minutes ago I stood in front of the florist’s cooler for a full minute staring at sunflowers and pink roses, then walked out because flowers felt too close to a date. This is dinner. Catching up. Two old friends sitting across from each other after too many years apart.

That’s the line I keep telling myself, and I’m not buying a damn word of it.

The truth is that seeing Harmony walk into the station yesterday knocked me sideways. One second I was checking equipment logs, and the next she was standing in my lobby with warm cookies in her hands and the same pretty mouth that used to argue with me over bike races and tree forts. I recognized her instantly. Ten years disappeared in one breath, and every feeling I buried when she left for college came back a hell of a lot harder to ignore.

I was in love with her when I was eighteen. I never said it because I was a stupid kid who figured there would be time, and then she was gone. After a while, I convinced myself it was a teenage crush and nothing more. That lie worked fine until yesterday, when she looked up at me with those wide eyes and made me feel eighteen and grown all at once.

The front door opens, and every thought in my head goes silent.

Harmony stands there in a flowy top and jeans that hug her plentiful curves, and my hand flexes at my side. Her hair falls around her shoulders, and there’s a tiny crease between her brows, as if she’s been arguing with herself about whether tonight is strange too.

“Hi,” she says.

I make myself smile instead of staring at her mouth. “Hi.”

Her eyes dip over me, taking in the dark pants and button-down shirt I changed three times before settling on. “You clean up well.”