Page 61 of Combust (Everyday Heroes 2)
“Ah, the roommate.”
“Yes, the roommate.”
“Are you going to convince him to do the calendar?” he asks, which earns him a glare from Grady.
“What calendar?” I glance from Veego to Grady and then back to Veego, ignoring Grady’s warning look.
“We’re doing a—”
“Drop it,” Grady says, but Veego keeps going.
“—Sunnyville fireman calendar shoot. The beefcake kind,” he says with a wink, and the flush to his cheeks makes me smile. Marcy’s relevance to the conversation suddenly makes sense. “It’s to raise money for the fireman’s widow fund. Pretty-boy Malone here refuses to be the month of August when he’s the best looking of the ugly lot of us. Too bad that shiner will be gone by the time we shoot the photos though or else I’m sure that would just add to his bad-boy vibe the ladies will get all wet over—”
“It’s a dead issue,” Grady says again, cutting me off when I begin to speak. “Is that what Bowie called me in early for? To have a meeting on this bullshit?”
I may be confused as to what he’s referring to, but I see the panic flicker through Veego’s eyes just as easily as Grady does. Whatever Grady is referring to has nothing to do with the calendar and everything to do with something that’s brought an unwelcome chill to the conversation.
“Fuck this,” Grady says as he shakes his head. “Not now. Of all times, not now.”
I’m in the dark as to what’s going on, but the emotion that flows in the look the two men share is overwhelming. One defiant, and the other resolute.
“Grady . . .”
“C’mon, Dylan.”
“You can’t hide forever, Malone.” Veego?
??s voice is full of compassion, and a part of me feels like I should shrink into the shadows and give them privacy.
“I’m not hiding from shit. I’m walking Dylan to my truck. Figure out how not to make this happen or else I’m heading home with her.”
They glare at each other again.
“See you in a few,” Veego says, grief I don’t understand heavy in his voice. He turns to me. “Nice to meet you, Dylan.”
Grady is silent as we head out of the bay and toward the parking lot. I’m not sure what to say, I’m not even sure what just transpired, and yet, I feel on edge as I figure out how to handle this.
“I might be overstepping . . . but why are you so upset about the calendar?” I realize the answer the minute the question passes over my lips—his burns.
“There’s no way I’m going to stand there and let people stare at me. The calendar idea is crap.”
“Crap?” I push, not caring that I have no right to. “It’s for the widows’ fund. I’d think you’d be willing to help. When is the last time a firefighter died in the line of duty before Drew?”
“Christ, I don’t know.”
“Then wouldn’t the majority of the proceeds go to Shelby and Brody? Why won’t you participate?”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. “Stay out of it, Dylan.”
“What’s the big deal? You said it yourself. You’re vain. Let them take a picture of all your hard work. You have an incredible body. Sell some calendars. Help Shelby and Brody. I don’t know what your hang up is,” I say, knowing very well what it is but not caring as I shamelessly use his guilt to help him get over his own insecurities.
“No one wants to look at me, I can assure you of that.”
“I do.”
“Save it.”
“Save what?” I scoff. “Do you know how often I sit in the house when you’re out working on the playroom and stare at you?” I love the shocked look on his face and laugh. “What? A girl needs inspiration while she’s writing songs.”
