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His nod is slow and wary, but he seems to move on from it after a few pained seconds.

“We can load up my truck with as much as we can fit today. I can ask some of the guys to come back and help take the bed apart. I could store it in my garage for the time being.”

Ah, shit. See? I knew I scared him with all the dead fish talk and watery eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, Boss—” Ooh. I like that nickname. “It’ll be okay. You’ve already done so much for me.”

He scoffs, but I ignore it and go back to shoving the contents of my dresser into my suitcase. Stuffing in everything I can, I finally manage to zip up my suitcase with Bostic’s help.

“All done,” I say, taking one last look around.

Bostic nods, grabs the suitcase with one hand, and proceeds out to the living room with a firm grunt and a “Let’s go.”

Can we just note that he doesn’t bother with engaging the wheels? It’s like he doesn’t want anything slowing our exit from this hellhole.

Let’s also note that Bostic needs a stuffed sea lion named after him. Pronto.

I refrain from flipping Tucker and Taylor off as we pass by, but then I feel a soft touch at my elbow. “Ainsley. I’m?—”

“Get your hands off of her.”

And that’s why his nickname is Boss.

I let a smirk stretch out over my face as Tucker slowly backs away with his hands up. Bostic’s growl is pretty freaking scary.

“Do not come near her ever again,” he threatens, looking from Tucker to Taylor. “Either of you.”

They both nod but it’s forced. They don’t want to piss off the big man, but they haven’t finished saying all they need to say to me, and that’s fine.

I sure as shit have more I would like to say to them, but I won’t.

Not now. Because whatever I did to deserve Bostic’s help at this moment, I’d like to keep it. And him, because he’s just amazing.

Without another word, Bostic turns and heads out the front door. I follow dutifully but not before placing my hand behind my back and flipping off the two love birds. Screw them.

“You can shower at the fire station,” says Bostic, descending the stairs with a hundred-pound suitcase hanging from his fist.

“Are we eating breakfast there too?”

He pauses when we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Yes. Is that okay?”

Uh, yeah, it’s okay—more than okay actually. I’m starving.

And okay, for those of you who are skeptical, I know all the talks about stranger danger, and I don’t plan on getting a ride in Bostic’s truck, no matter how helpful he’s been.

But the fire station can’t be that bad, right?

I mean, they do background checks on these guys.

If there was any place I could shower and get some breakfast, the fire station should be on the list as being safe.

I figure if the law allows you to leave your baby there, then they have to be good guys, right?

“Yep. That sounds good to me. I’ll even wash dishes as payment for letting me squat for the morning.” I’m not a taker. I’ll do my fair share.

“That won’t be necessary.”

I shrug when he starts walking again. “The offer stands should you change your mind,” I call out to his back.

Bostic shakes his head like he isn’t sure what to do with me. And that’s fine. Most people aren’t. I’ve grown accustomed to it.

“Come on.” He tosses my bag in the truck. “Do you know how to get to the station?”

“Nope.” GPS could probably help, but there are several fire stations around here. What if I pick the wrong one? I doubt they have the station numbers listed on the map .

Bostic rubs his forehead like a headache is brewing. “Follow me then.”

I can do that. “Yes, sir.”

I’m betting he regrets offering me anything at this point.

And while I’m still in a state of shock, I realize that maybe my eccentric personality could have been part of the issue between Tucker and me.

Tucker is calm. Reserved. Well-bred, so to speak.

Not that I’m not well-bred, but I can’t tell you who is a pro golfer and what charity my mom donates to every year.

Tucker is exceptionally well-rounded. That’s it. Well-rounded. And well, I’m not.

An ache in my chest knots up under my underwire. Today is a new day, though. Today, I can be anyone I want to be. I can start over. I don’t have to worry about impressing anyone or worrying if they like me or not.

I simply don’t answer to anyone anymore.

It’s a freeing feeling.

At least I hope it will be a freeing feeling once the ache in my chest wears off.

“Are you coming?” Bostic’s truck is running, and I’ve yet to get into my car.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Because I’m free and Tucker doesn’t get to tell me if this is an awful decision.

“These are the best-scrambled eggs I’ve ever had,” I mumble between chews.

The chef of the morning, Kyle, grins, finally sitting down at the eight-person table.

I’ve already showered, and I’ve had two cups of coffee. I feel almost human again.

“Thank you. It’s an old family recipe,” he returns.

Chokes and thinly veiled snickers echo around the table .

“Do not let the rookie lie to you, Ainsley. His first kitchen duty ended with us putting out a fire in our own house.”

Kyle’s cheeks redden as his co-worker, Luke (super-hot, by the way), ribs him from across the table. “It was the first time we had a fire in the station. We caught shit from the other stations for weeks.”

All the guys laugh, and I feel the need to let Kyle know he isn’t alone.

“I set my curtains on fire last night.” I shrug, catching his gaze.

“But you probably knew that already. I’m just saying people do it all the time.

Set their kitchens on fire, I mean. If they didn’t, I guess they wouldn’t need you guys, huh? Job security and all that.”

The table goes quiet until Luke pushes back in his chair, resting his plate of eggs on his chest, a pretty incredible balancing act to witness. “Tell me, Ainsley, did you at least get a hit in on the prick before we got there?”

It takes me a minute, but I finally understand what he’s referring to. I grin. “You mean, did I hit Tucker before you arrived?”

Luke nods.

“Sadly, no. With all the chaos of the alarms, I just yelled at him, and it wasn’t even a good yell.”

Don’t ask me what a good yell consists of. I doubt I really know, but I feel like it would make me feel better. Like, I wouldn’t still feel this weight sitting on my chest—this sadness that feels like if I just stop for a minute, it’ll take over and consume me.

I look at Bostic and notice his jaw working extra hard, chewing his eggs.

I guess I’m done here. I’ve effectively ruined their breakfast. I shovel the last bit of eggs down and push out of my chair.

“Thank you for breakfast and”—I finger my wet hair—“the shower.” I look at Bostic.

“I promise to find a place today and get my bag out of the storage closet.”

Bostic grunts but doesn’t pull his eyes from the table. “Give Kyle your plate.”

I glance at Kyle, who looks like he’s used to cleaning up the table. “That’s okay. I can wash it.”

“Ainsley. Give Kyle your plate.” He pushes up from the table. “I’ll walk you out. ”

Okay. I guess there is no room for arguing. Boss is all boss when we’re at the firehouse. I nod to Luke and the others. “It was nice meeting you all. Thanks for letting me crash your night and your morning.”

Luke is the only one who laughs. “Anytime. We could use some fun around here.”

Or the crazy, but he’s kind enough not to specify.

Bostic guides me down the hall—I certainly haven’t gotten my bearings—and leads me to the parking lot. “You’ll come by for dinner, and I’ll help you take your things to your new place.” It’s not a question. His stare is a warning that I better not sleep in my car again.

“Will do. And if I don’t?—”

“You will.”

I wave off his glare and bossy tone. “Let me finish.” Geez. “If I don’t find a place to stay, I promise I will actually call a friend and stay with them.”

One of his eyebrows rises a fraction. He doesn’t believe me. That’s okay because I’m lying.

“I promise,” I add for good measure.

Forgive me. I had to lie to him. I know it’s an awful thing to do to your newfound guardian angel, but the fact is I don’t have any friends to call.

If I’m unsuccessful at finding a place today, I’ll have to sleep in my car.

I literally do not have anywhere else to go.

I’m almost two hours from home: no family, no friends, and no money.

I am up shit creek. And really, I could endure one more night in the car.

It wasn’t that bad. Now that I know not all the bumps in the night are killers, I’ll sleep much better.

Maybe I’ll try the front seat, though, and recline.

I doubt the hump in the middle will be any more comfortable than before.

Here’s the thing. I tried. I really, really tried.

“I’m sorry, Ainsley, but we’re full. Maybe try a hotel?”

Lauren is lovely. Don’t get me wrong. She is. But right now, I want to push her down and charge through the door and flop down on her sorority’s couch.

“I don’t have the money for a hotel,” I beg her. “I don’t get paid until Friday.” And she should know that’s a couple of days away. “I just need a place to stay for tonight.”

Have some freaking mercy on my soul.

I’m really the one to blame. I know this. If I didn’t scare off most people, I would have plenty of friends, and this would be a non-issue.

“I’m sorry, Ainsley. I wish I could, but we aren’t allowed guests.”

I can’t believe she was able to keep a straight face. No guests? This is a freaking college, not a nunnery. Isn’t that like a common occurrence to have someone passed out on the floor or the couch on the daily?

I sigh, taking a step back. This is ridiculous. “It’s okay. I’ll try another friend.” I mean someone I have a class with, but it sounds better saying friend.

Lauren smiles hesitantly. “I hope you find something.”

The scoff claws at my throat. “Me too. Thanks. Have a great night.”

The door closes, and the sound of the lock clicking into place is the epic conclusion to this shitty day.

I grab the strap of my bag and adjust it up on my shoulder.

I can’t worry about where I’m sleeping tonight.

The more significant concern is how I’m going to endure this first shift with Tucker, the fuckface, and Taylor, the backstabber.

I have a feeling Bostic and his crew need to be on standby.

This catastrophe is just the beginning.